Hi! My name is Jiaming Cao, you also can call me Simon. I was born and raised in China, and I am a senior student at UCSD, majoring in Sociology-Law and Society and international Studies-Sociology. I enjoy playing table tennis, golf, fishing, and cooking during my free time. Cooking is the most relaxing thing for me. I like trying to cook different dishes and especially cooking for my family and friends because it brings us together. Seeing them enjoy my food gives me a sense of satisfaction and makes all the effort worthwhile.

Peking Duck is one of China's most iconic dishes, famed for its glossy roasted skin and rich flavor. Yet its significance reaches far beyond the plate. Over centuries, Peking Duck has evolved from an imperial court delicacy into a cultural symbol, a tool of political diplomacy, and a magnet for culinary tourism. Peking Duck is not only a celebrated Chinese dish but also a vehicle of cultural identity, a medium of soft-power politics, and a Beijing tourism driver. 

The roots of the Peking Duck trace back over two millennia. Large-scale duck farming was documented as early as the Eastern Zhou dynasty (514–495 BC), indicating the long-standing domestication of waterfowl in the region (Qu et al., p. 1030). By the Northern Wei period (386–534 AD), texts like Qi Min Yao Shu described techniques resembling modern Peking Duck preparation, evidence that a tradition of fattening and roasting ducks had emerged by that time (Qu et al., p. 1030). The dish later rose to prominence during the Ming (1368–1644) and Qing (1644–1911) dynasties, when roast duck was refined and served to the imperial court. 

In the late imperial and early modern period, dedicated roast duck establishments in Beijing perfected the dish and made it accessible beyond the palace. Bianyifang, founded in 1416 near the Imperial City, was one of the first to specialize in roast duck. It used a "stew oven" closed cooking technique and became renowned, opening a branch near the imperial palace by 1855 to cater to high officials (Ashton, p. 154)​ . In 1864, a former poultry vendor, Yang Quanren, acquired a defunct shop and transformed it into Quanjude, now the most famous Peking Duck restaurant (Ashton, p. 155)​ . Yang hired a retired imperial chef and introduced an innovative open-fire hanging oven that could roast ducks in 45 minutes instead of Bianyifang's six hours, vastly increasing output (Ashton, p. 155)​. These time-honored restaurants set the standards for Peking Duck's preparation and presentation. Over the 20th century, they survived upheavals and continued to thrive; Quanjude, for example, was among the first traditional brands allowed to reopen after the Cultural Revolution (Ashton, p. 155)​ . Such restaurant helped transform Peking Duck into a must-try experience for visitors to Beijing. By the late 20th century, this dish had become nearly obligatory for tourists, often touted alongside visiting the Great Wall as essential for a "true" Beijing experience (Ashton, p. 163)​ . As the dish's fame grew, so did its role as a cultural emblem of China.

From its origins in the imperial era, the dish has been imbued with cultural symbolism. It embodies the heritage of "Old Beijing,".  In 2008, the dish was included in the national intangible cultural heritage list, a designation that acknowledges its authentic preparation methods and historical continuity (Ashton, p. 150). Both major Peking duck restaurants—Quanjude and Bianyifang—were acknowledged as bearers of this tradition, a rare honor that effectively canonizes their recipes and techniques as part of China's protected cultural patrimony​ . This governmental recognition affirms that Peking Duck is more than food; it is considered a cultural treasure. This governmental recognition affirms that Peking Duck is more than food; it is considered a cultural treasure. By preserving the dish's "authentic formula" and culinary rituals, China positions Peking Duck as a living heritage to be safeguarded amidst rapid modernization (Ashton, p. 153). Such efforts reflect a broader national strategy to celebrate and conserve elements of Chinese intangible culture, from traditional operas to regional cuisines, as symbols of national identity. 

Both Quanjude and Bianyifang established in-house museums dedicated to the history and art of Peking Duck (Ashton, p. 155)​. Quanjude opened its Roast Duck Museum at its flagship branch in 2007, displaying antique cooking tools, archival photographs, and even personal memorabilia connected to famous patrons (Ashton, p. 156)​. Bianyifang followed suit in 2008 with its museum space (Ashton, p. 155)​. These museums educate the public on the dish's evolution, how recipes were passed down, how techniques like the hanging oven versus the closed oven diverged, and reinforce each restaurant's claim as an "authentic" originator of the tradition (Ashton, p. 155)​. During the Olympic Games, Peking Duck was prominently promoted as a key aspect of Beijing's heritage. Such images link the dish to historical lore and contemporary global events, alongside exhibits like a Qing Dynasty imperial kitchen chef's knife or the tableware used by U.S. Vice President George H. W. Bush in 1984 (Ashton, p. 156)​. By curating their past, these restaurants not only attract tourists but also validate the cultural authenticity of Peking Duck. The museum displays function as a culinary archivist, assuring visitors that the duck they taste today is part of an unbroken chain of traditions. In this way, commercial enterprises and state cultural policies converge on the same goal: preserving Peking Duck's status as a living cultural heritage and ensuring that its story is continually retold to new generations.

Peking Duck has been an important tool of culinary diplomacy and national branding for China over the long. This dish, however, typically appears as part of high-profile state banquets to represent Chinese cuisine at its best. Premier Zhou Enlai may have considered a famous example - when, in 1972, U.S. President Richard Nixon took an historic trip to China, Zhou hosted an elaborate 'all-duck banquet' in Beijing. Centerpiece of the meal was Peking Duck, symbolizing goodwill, and as a memorable introduction for the American delegation to Chinese culture. Nixon also came off well in media coverage toasting Zhou Enlai over small glasses of baijiu liquor at the banquet, with Peking Duck plates present on the table. 

Serving the Peking duck to foreign dignitaries has since become a tradition in Chinese statecraft, reinforcing a message of cultural pride and hospitality. Chinese leaders understand that cuisine can be a powerful soft-power tool: a carefully prepared Peking Duck can convey respect, generosity, and the richness of Chinese heritage in a single meal.

In recent decades, market reforms and tourism booms have transformed Peking Duck from a speciality of a few venerable Beijing kitchens into a worldwide culinary franchise. In the 1990s, the Quanjude restaurant company was partially privatized and expanded aggressively: it became a public company in 1993 and soon opened multiple branches, catering to mass demand (Ashton, p. 155). Bianyifang and other competitors likewise scaled up operations in the 2000s. The result has been the global spread of Peking Duck – today, one can find restaurants bearing the name "Peking Duck" or imitating its style in cities from New York to Singapore. This commercialization has undoubtedly increased accessibility and generated economic gains, turning the dish into a lucrative business and a tourism draw. However, it has also raised questions about the preservation of quality and tradition. As production is streamlined and recipes adapted for efficiency, purists worry that the authenticity of Peking Duck might be compromised. Scholars observing this phenomenon note that maintaining "convincing continuities" with the past becomes challenging when a culinary tradition is reproduced at an industrial scale (Ashton, p. 158)​. For example, the traditional method of air-drying and slow-roasting ducks over fruit wood fires is difficult to uphold when serving hundreds of tourists a day. Even Quanjude's early history illustrates this balance: its 19th-century innovation of the hanging oven dramatically cut cooking time at the expense of departing from the older closed-oven method (Ashton, p. 155)​. 

Peking Duck’s road from imperial banquet halls to tourist must-eat lists is indicative of the multiple facets food can conjure in society. From being a royal delicacy prepared for emperors, it has become a globally known dish attached with culture, politics and economy. Peking Duck is a cultural heritage form which has been properly preserved and celebrated as an intangible heritage status while is passed down in the kitchens of storied Beijing restaurants. It has been used as a political weapon, with diplomatic finesse served up from Zhou Enlai's table to state banquets of the present day. It has become economically a thriving enterprise, and a pillar of Beijing's tourism economy, attracting diners from all over the world. From its slow transformation to be the global favorite, the evolution of Peking Duck reflects a delicate balance between tradition and modernity, as its custodians take measures to keep authenticity intact even as they embrace mass appeal, and global demand. However, commercialization cannot be without its challenges as debates over quality and true practice arisen. As Peking Duck has become increasingly popular around the world, however, far from degrading its importance, it has instead helped raise its reputation as a symbol of Chinese culture. Innovation has frequently reinforced, rather than undermined, the core traditions of the dish, making sure that succulent meat and crispy skin continued to be served with great care and respect.