Stewed in Culture

With one of the highest concentrations of Michelin-starred restaurants, Macau is a food-lover’s dream. But it’s the region’s historic national dish that’s the real showstopper.

by Kate Dingwall

Macau is sometimes referred to as the Las Vegas of Asia, and understandably so. The region, just a quick ferry or a short drive from Hong Kong, is glitzy and high-rolling, built out with behemoth hotels and bastions of gambling. But while the skyline is dotted with neon casinos and towering mega-properties, hang a right off the main road and you’ll find quaint cobblestone streets, built when Portugal ruled the region. Continue wandering and find 22 UNESCO World Heritage Sites, including the ruins of 15th-century Chinese temples, 17th-century lighthouses, 18th-century Catholic cathedrals and 19th-century Moorish fortresses.

A-Ma Temple

Equally as layered is Macau’s cuisine—in particular its unofficial national dish. African chicken, or galinha à africana, combines Chinese, African, Goan and Portuguese histories and cooking techniques into a tangy, smoky, delicious dish that traverses cultures.

African chicken.

Of course, there’s much more to cuisine in Macau than African chicken. Good eats abound in the region, so much so that it’s been declared a UNESCO Creative City of Gastronomy. There are sky-high rooms serving immaculate dim sum, dedicated temples of Japanese cuisine, and hot-pot spots, highlighting such lush ingredients as lobster and abalone.

On our first day in Macau, we sit down at Ying, where Michelin-starred dim sum is the specialty. We’re hoping the selection of steamed and fried dumplings will cure the jet lag, but seated at our table overlooking the entire city, the experience is far more than just a filling meal. Each dumpling is meticulously folded, from crunchy taro dumplings shaped into swans to perfectly swirled soup dumplings. Even standard shrimp dumplings are served with a dollop of caviar. To finish, char siu flambéed tableside and sourced from black Iberian pigs that feast solely on acorns.

Loster from Ying Restaurant

At Lotus Palace, the award-winning restaurant inside The Parisian hotel on the glittering strip, we fill our hot pot with well-marbled Wagyu (both Kagoshima and Kobe varieties). The seafood lovers choose from lobster claws, razor clams and prawns pulled fresh from the ocean. Each ingredient is carefully served on icy trays alongside hand-pulled noodles.

Lotus Palace restaurant

On other days, we take advantage of the option to enjoy the casual end of things. In a city of so many cultures, it’s easy to snack on traditional Chinese soup dumplings in one stall, then turn down the next block for Portuguese cuisine—think salty cod or custard-packed pastéis de nata. These iconic egg tarts aren’t just famous in Portugal; they’re a must-have on any trip to Macau: silky and creamy with a crispy shell and the perfect amount of caramelization. (Stop in at Lord Stow’s Bakery for the best version.) Take a stroll down Cunha Street, the city’s top street-food strip. The narrow avenue’s choice eats include pillowy mochi ice cream, crunchy peanut toffee, and egg rolls wrapped by hand and delicately fried as pedestrians watch.

Iconic tarts pastéis de nata

So where does the famed African chicken fit into the city’s food mosaic?

Historically, local lore suggests that it started as a riff on a creamy, nutty-spicy African curry, brought to the city via hired soldiers hailing from Mozambique, Angola, and other African countries. These soldiers settled in the city as part of a Portuguese garrison, bringing with them their spices and dishes to keep home close at hand. After Portugal’s upheaval in the 1970s, the garrison was removed but many officers stayed in Macau, opening restaurants or lending their African heritage to local eateries.

As each culture that calls Macau home added something new to the plate, African chicken evolved. Portuguese spice traders contributed flavor—black pepper from India; mace, clove and nutmeg from Indonesia; and cinnamon from Sri Lanka. There’s a Goan influence—the South Indian territory was once under Portuguese rule—that brings coconut milk to the dish, while Africa leans in with the peanut butter. Dried chilies come from China (Macau became a Chinese Special Administrative Region in 1999) while Portugal contributes paprika (plus a portion of Portuguese sangria to wash it all down).

Every chef has their own recipe for this famous dish. Restaurante Litoral opts for individual plates—a large piece of chicken coated in a thick sauce and served with fried potatoes. At Henri’s Galley, it’s chargrilled, then drowned in peanutty peri-peri tomato sauce and dotted with olives. When we visit, it’s served family-style, heaped in a big cast-iron pan with a sizzling sauce that envelops the chicken. Silence falls over our table as we lean in to grab a leg or wing, then pass around a hot bowl of Portuguese paella and a pitcher of Macanese sangria, spiked with Portuguese Madeira.

If deciding among all the city’s food offerings proves challenging, rest assured that getting to Macau won’t be. It’s a quick 45-minute drive from Hong Kong (across the world’s longest sea bridge), or a short flight from most major Asian cities. Macau is also a port of call for many cruises, and an excellent layover destination for those flying home from a beachier location. Whatever you’re craving, Macau is a world of wonders.