Cantonese Dictionary Vol. 22: 10 Cooking Verbs That Reveal the Soul of Guangdong Kitchens

People cooking together in a home kitchen

If you want to understand a Cantonese kitchen, listen to the verbs. Guangdong cooking is built around technique, and every technique has its own precise word — one that changes the way a piece of chicken, a leaf of choi sum, or a fish head is transformed into something eaten with reverence. Today we're breaking down 10 cooking verbs every Cantonese home cook knows by muscle memory.

This is Vol. 22 of our ongoing dictionary. If you missed the earlier volumes, our sensory and texture words and food market slang go beautifully with this list.

Neon signage on a busy Mong Kok street at night
Cantonese food language lives on the streets of Hong Kong. — Photo via Pexels

Why cooking verbs matter in Cantonese

In English, we say "cook" and add qualifiers — "slow-cook," "pan-fry," "steam over high heat." In Cantonese, each of these gets its own single character. The verb tells you everything: the heat, the vessel, the time, sometimes even the expected texture. Learn these ten and you can read almost any Cantonese menu or recipe.

10 essential Cantonese cooking verbs

1. 炒

caau2  —  Jyutping romanisation

Meaning: To stir-fry over high heat in a wok.

Explanation: The workhorse verb of Cantonese cooking. 炒 is fast, loud and hot — it's the technique that produces 鑊氣 (wok hei), the smoky breath of the wok. Everything from choi sum to beef with black bean sauce is a 炒 dish.

In real life: 「今晚炒個菜心啦。」 — "Let's stir-fry some choi sum tonight."

2. 蒸

zing1  —  Jyutping romanisation

Meaning: To steam.

Explanation: The verb Cantonese cooks reach for when the ingredient is already excellent and needs no interference. A whole fish, minced pork with salted egg, or dim sum — 蒸 is the technique that lets flavour speak for itself.

In real life: 「條魚蒸咗未呀?」 — "Is the fish steamed yet?"

3. 炆

man1  —  Jyutping romanisation

Meaning: To slow-braise / stew in a covered pot with sauce.

Explanation: Think beef brisket, oxtail, or radish falling apart in a dark, savoury sauce. 炆 dishes are patient work — low flame, closed lid, hours of surrender.

In real life: 「阿媽炆咗煲牛腩,好味到不得了。」 — "Mom slow-braised a pot of beef brisket, it's ridiculously good."

4. 焗

guk6  —  Jyutping romanisation

Meaning: To bake / roast / cook in enclosed heat.

Explanation: The verb that covers everything from a HK-style baked pork chop rice (焗豬扒飯) to salt-baked chicken (鹽焗雞). 焗 traps heat and aroma inside a vessel — dish, dough, or salt crust.

In real life: 「我食焗豬扒飯。」 — "I'll have the baked pork chop rice."

5. 灼

coek3  —  Jyutping romanisation

Meaning: To blanch quickly in boiling water.

Explanation: The technique behind poached prawns and blanched leafy greens with oyster sauce. 灼 is about speed and control — in and out just long enough to lock in colour and snap.

In real life: 「灼個菜,唔好煮太耐。」 — "Blanch the vegetables, don't cook them too long."

6. 煎

zin1  —  Jyutping romanisation

Meaning: To pan-fry in a small amount of oil.

Explanation: The gentle cousin of 炒. 煎 is what you do to a piece of fish, a pork chop, or an egg — a wide, shallow pan and enough oil to crisp one side at a time.

In real life: 「幫我煎隻蛋。」 — "Fry me an egg."
A bowl of Asian stir-fried noodles
A finished 炒 dish — stir-fried noodles with the wok's smoky signature. — Photo via Pexels

7. 燉

dan6  —  Jyutping romanisation

Meaning: To double-boil — steam a sealed pot inside a bath of water for hours.

Explanation: The technique behind restorative soups and desserts like double-boiled papaya with snow fungus. 燉 is famously gentle — nothing is agitated, and every flavour is drawn out with patience.

In real life: 「今晚燉個湯畀你飲。」 — "I'll double-boil a soup for you tonight."

8. 煲

bou1  —  Jyutping romanisation

Meaning: To simmer or slow-boil for a long time (also refers to the pot itself).

Explanation: The verb behind the sacred lo fo tong — old-fire soups simmered for three to five hours in a clay pot. To 煲 is to trust time.

In real life: 「阿媽煲緊老火湯。」 — "Mom is simmering old-fire soup."

9. 撈

lou1  —  Jyutping romanisation

Meaning: To toss / mix ingredients together in sauce.

Explanation: The verb behind 撈麵 lou mein — noodles tossed dry in sauce rather than served in broth. It's what you do at the table when the dish arrives and you have to mix everything before eating.

In real life: 「撈勻佢再食啦。」 — "Toss it well before you eat."

10. 醃

jip3  —  Jyutping romanisation

Meaning: To marinate or cure.

Explanation: Every serious Cantonese dish starts with a marinade. 醃 is how you build flavour before heat ever touches the meat — soy sauce, sugar, cornstarch, sesame oil, a little Shaoxing wine.

In real life: 「醃咗啲肉半個鐘先炒。」 — "Marinate the meat for half an hour before stir-frying."

The pattern behind the verbs

Notice how every verb signals not just what you do, but how long, how hot, and in what vessel. Cantonese cooks don't need to explain a recipe in paragraphs — a single character does it. This economy of language is one reason Guangdong cuisine feels so precise. When you hear a grandmother say she 炆'd the brisket for two hours, you already know what her afternoon looked like.

Take the verbs home

Try slipping one into a real kitchen conversation this week. Ask a friend if the fish has been 蒸'd. Tell your mother you're going to 煲 a soup. Watch how quickly Cantonese food starts feeling less like a menu and more like a language.

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