The first time someone ordered roast squab at a Chinese banquet, I was confused. It looked like a tiny roasted chicken. Maybe a pigeon? I wasn’t sure.
I’d never had squab before. Honestly, I didn’t even know what squab was. Baby pigeon, apparently. That sounded… not great.
But everyone at the table was excited. So I took a piece.
The skin was shatteringly crispy. The meat was dark, tender, and juicy. Nothing like chicken. Richer. Deeper flavor. I ate a whole one by myself.
That’s how I learned what ru ge is actually about.
What makes it good
The skin is the star. It’s thin, glossy, and crackles when you bite into it. The meat underneath is dark and tender — closer to duck than chicken, but richer. And the bones? In a young squab, the small ones are soft enough to chew. You don’t have to pick around them.
Where to get it
I haven’t tried roast squab everywhere. But here’s what I learned.
Hong Kong
The best one I had was in Hong Kong. A tiny shop in a busy street. No English sign. Just people lining up for takeout. The squab was chopped into pieces, skin still crackling, meat still juicy.
Guangzhou
Also great. Cheaper than Hong Kong. Some places serve it whole, you tear it apart yourself. More satisfying that way.
My advice
Don’t go to a fancy restaurant for your first try. Find a busy roast meat shop. If you see locals lining up, you’re in the right place.
And eat it fresh. Don’t take it to go. The skin loses its magic fast.
Final Thoughts
Look, it’s a baby pigeon. I know how that sounds. But when it’s roasted right — crispy skin, juicy meat, bones you can eat — it’s one of the best things I’ve tried.
If you see it on a menu, don’t overthink it. Just order it. You might surprise yourself. I did.
