Tang Ba Hu Skewers (唐爸虎铁签烤牛) – Chengdu Hidden BBQ Gem, A Fiery Local Feast in a Courtyard

Bringing a 4-year-old on holiday to Chengdu, I honestly didn’t expect to go all out on a foodie adventure. Most of our meals were child-friendly and convenient. But on the very last night, I just couldn’t resist making a detour to visit 唐爸虎铁签烤牛 (Tang Ba Hu Iron-Skewer BBQ Beef), a humble courtyard BBQ spot that kept popping up on Xiao Hong Shu with rave reviews.

Tucked away in a narrow lane, the place was hard to spot at first glance, but once you walk in, it feels like stepping into another world. Plastic stools, simple wooden tables, makeshift tents, and big fans blowing across an open courtyard — it’s the kind of no-frills setting that oozes local Chengdu vibes. The smoky aroma of charcoal and sizzling skewers fills the air, and despite the simplicity, the atmosphere has its own unmistakable charm.

The eatery has the soul of old Chengdu — red bricks, lush greenery, and a vibrant courtyard buzzing with chatter. Even on a cool evening, the heat from the charcoal fire kept us warm, adding to the homely, street-side feel. Diners weren’t just there for the food — groups of friends gathered to laugh, chat, and linger over skewers late into the night. It felt like an authentic slice of Chengdu’s everyday life.

We started, of course, with their most talked-about spicy beef skewers (香辣烤半壮). At only RMB0.8 a stick, they were everything the reviews promised — smoky, juicy, and coated in a fiery blend of chilli and cumin that hit all the right spots. One bite in, and I finally understood why every Xiao Hong Shu user called this the “signature must-order.”

The skewers kept coming, each one more tempting than the last. Charcoal-grilled prawns arrived next, their shells blistered and crisp while the flesh inside remained sweet and bouncy. Beside them sat marinated beef skewers, simple in appearance but bursting with flavour — tender, juicy, and addictive enough that we polished them off without realising how many sticks we’d gone through.

Then came the surprises. A plate of golden tofu, crisp on the outside yet silky inside, oozed juices with every bite and soaked up the house sauce like a sponge. Right beside it was the dish I didn’t expect to fall in love with — eggplant crowned with a hot spring egg. The yolk was half runny, and when we broke it open, it flowed over the soft, smoky eggplant, wrapping everything in a velvety sauce that was so rich and savoury, I couldn’t stop myself from going back for more.

For those with adventurous tastebuds, the locals swear by the pig’s brain — bubbling hot in a clay pot with herbs and chilli. Creamy and delicate, it was surprisingly moreish once you got past the idea of it. And if brains aren’t your thing, there were chicken feet grilled until sticky and smoky, pig’s tendons with a satisfying chew, and even small intestines that exploded with juices as you bit in. Each dish carried its own charm, adding layers to the feast.

Just when I thought I’d reached my limit, the server brought over something that looked like dessert gone wrong — grilled tangyuan. I hesitated, but one bite in and I was hooked. The glutinous rice ball was crisp on the outside, but inside the sesame filling oozed out in molten sweetness, mingling with the smoky char from the grill. What I thought would be “dark cuisine” turned out to be one of my favourite discoveries of the night.

To wash it all down, the locals recommended yangmei (bayberry) soup. Sweet, tart, and refreshing, it cut through the spice and oil perfectly, resetting my palate so I could go back in for yet another round of skewers.

Prices are reasonable, and the food comes out fast. Just be prepared — with orders starting at 20–30 skewers per type, it’s best to come with friends so you can sample more dishes.

This little courtyard BBQ might be hidden and humble, but it’s a real treasure. It’s not just about the food — the whole experience is what makes this place memorable. It captures the raw, everyday flavour of Chengdu that no fancy restaurant can replicate. The smoky air to the clinking of beer bottles, it’s messy, it’s lively, and it’s as Chengdu as it gets. It’s one of those places that remind you why street food will always be the heart and soul of a city.

Ending our trip here felt like the perfect finale — Chengdu’s fiery spirit, served on skewers.