Xinjiang BBQ’s grilled and powerfully seasoned skewers pack a Texas-sized punch of Northwest Chinese goodness.



9260 Bellaire Blvd, Houston, TX 77036

(713) 773-9999

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4PM–11PM (Mon, Wed–Fri); 12PM–11PM (Sat); 12PM–10PM (Sun); Closed Tuesdays

IT IS TEXAS. The graphics on Xinjiang BBQ’s front door playfully engage the culinary parallels between northern China and the Lone Star State. Inside this Asiatown joint, the similarities to Tejas continue: wood surfaces, cheap beer, grilled meats, and decorating the wall, an image of a guy playing an electric guitar.

On a recent drive out west to scope out Bellaire Food Street and indulge in pre-dessert cream puffs at Beard Papa’s, we wandered across Bellaire to the shopping center anchored by Jusgo Supermarket, eventually landing in a booth at Xinjiang (named after the autonomous region of Northwest China). Half hungry, we ordered a few grilled skewers but ended up liking everything so much that we returned the following weekend to explore more of the menu, replay favorites from our first visit, and dig into some big plate chicken.

Skewers (price varies). Most of the time and money we spent at Xinjiang BBQ went into the “Charcoal Grilled” section of the menu. All skewers feature a cumin-heavy spice mixture, and the vegetable, tofu, and seafood items that we sampled also come encrusted with a savory, sweet barbecue sauce—more of that seeming syncretism of Xinjiang and Texas. Charcoaled treats on a stick make great beer-swilling companions, and Xinjiang is happy to oblige with sub-$2 macro-brews: Budweiser, Corona, Ichiban, and Kirin. The skewers that we tried on our two trips included:

Lamb ($1.25): Our favorite of the bunch on both visits, the grilled lamb proffers a bite equally perfect in taste and texture.

Our favorite of the bunch on both visits, the grilled lamb proffers a bite equally perfect in taste and texture. Beef tendon ($1.75): The gelatinous chewiness of tendon gets a welcome textural lift from the coarse-ground spices and charcoal-grilled edges.

The gelatinous chewiness of tendon gets a welcome textural lift from the coarse-ground spices and charcoal-grilled edges. Beef back strap tendon ($1.85): These lean and clean cuts didn’t satisfy us as much as the regular beef tendon skewers—skimpier and tougher but ideal for those wishing absolutely no gaminess.

These lean and clean cuts didn’t satisfy us as much as the regular beef tendon skewers—skimpier and tougher but ideal for those wishing absolutely no gaminess. Chicken heart ($1.15): The slight organ funk of chicken hearts is a nice match for the spice rub.

The slight organ funk of chicken hearts is a nice match for the spice rub. Chicken gizzard ($1.15): Similar to the chicken hearts but significantly chewier.

Similar to the chicken hearts but significantly chewier. Squid ($5.99): A whole squid, chopped up, grilled, and slathered in barbecue sauce. The crispy tentacle tips were our favorite parts, so next time we might just go for the less-pricey squid tentacle skewer ($1.89) .

A whole squid, chopped up, grilled, and slathered in barbecue sauce. The crispy tentacle tips were our favorite parts, so next time we might just go for the less-pricey . Enoki mushroom ($1.95): A bunch of needle-thin enokis threaded onto several skewers. This one did an especially good job of trapping generous quantities of Xinjian’s tasty sauce.

A bunch of needle-thin enokis threaded onto several skewers. This one did an especially good job of trapping generous quantities of Xinjian’s tasty sauce. Steamed bread ($1.00): Steamed buns dusted with spices and toasted on the grill. These tasted great dipped in big plate chicken gravy (see below).

Steamed buns dusted with spices and toasted on the grill. These tasted great dipped in big plate chicken gravy (see below). Oyster mushroom ($1.45): Packing plenty of earthy flavor and vegetal meatiness, these fungi exhibit less sauce-trapping action than the enokis.

Packing plenty of earthy flavor and vegetal meatiness, these fungi exhibit less sauce-trapping action than the enokis. Chinese chives ($4.50): For some reason, an order of these will set you back more than most of the proteins, but you do get a personal garden bed of chive. More important, they are delicious and shockingly savory. Like the umami of the enokis, the Chinese chives permit vegetarians to not miss a damn thing flavor-wise.

Dry bean curd ($3.99 for 10 skewers): Another repeat order. Ribbons of chewy, chile-hot pressed bean curd receive a massive upgrade, graduating to the higher plane of bacon flavor via a sprinkling of spice, a slathering of sauce, and quality time above the coals.

Another repeat order. Ribbons of chewy, chile-hot pressed bean curd receive a massive upgrade, graduating to the higher plane of bacon flavor via a sprinkling of spice, a slathering of sauce, and quality time above the coals. Garlic ($0.99): Like roasted garlic, except superior thanks to extra charring and Xinjiang’s omnipresent spice rub.

Big plate chicken ($12.90). A homey, oily stew of bone-in bird, potatoes, and green peppers, big plate chicken is a Sichuan-inspired Xinjiang dish spiced with chiles, star anise, Sichuan peppercorn, cinnamon, and bay leaves and typically served with noodles. We were eager to try Xinjiang BBQ’s version since Eater had recently featured it in a roundup of regional Chinese dishes to try in Houston. While we savored the flavors of their big plate chicken, we were not blown away by the accompanying noodles, which were cold and overcooked.

If this is Texas, we’d like to stay for awhile. Xinjiang BBQ is a great pit stop while navigating Asiatown’s throbbing arteries and bustling plazas. Hide from the Houston sun, nurse a cold beer, and nibble grilled skewers, swapping cleaned sticks for fresh ones loaded with charcoaled meats and veggies. Aside from the big plate chicken, we haven’t investigated the menu much beyond the front page of skewers. But for us, this place is all about the magic happening on the grill.