Discovering the World Through the Footsteps of the Chicken

Disappearing Foods
Original Title: Eating to Extinction:
The World’s Rarest Foods and Why We Need To Save Them
Author: Dan Saladino
Planner: Beiye Books
Publisher: Wenhui Publishing House
Translator: Gao Yubing
Publication Date: November 2023
Foodthink’s Take
On 2 July, at the *Eating to Extinction* Book Club co-organised by Foodthink and Beiye Books, Zou Lei, a PhD student at Central Minzu University, presented on ‘Disappearing Local Chickens’. The session offered an in-depth discussion on the diversity of indigenous poultry and the conservation of local breeds.
Our thanks to The Paper’s Book Review collective for compiling the transcript. Please follow Foodthink’s video channel to watch a recording of the book club session.

I have divided this presentation into two parts. The first will offer a brief overview of *Eating to Extinction*. The second will draw on my own research and experiences, alongside some stories from my family.
1. The Lianshan Black Chicken and the White-Feathered Chicken
According to the Korean National Heritage Administration, the breed was most likely introduced and domesticated from China. The earliest confirmed records consist of poems from the late Goryeo dynasty referencing the bird. Consequently, its breeding history in Korea stretches back over seven hundred years.

Currently, the breeding and upkeep of this breed falls primarily to the Lee Seung-sook family, who manage its conservation, breeding, and husbandry. In the fourth generation, an ancestor named Lee Hyo-kyung presented the bird to King Cheoljong of the Joseon dynasty, securing it the distinction of ‘imperial poultry’.
The family has kept the breed ever since. Yet, with the decline of the feudal monarchy, the Lianshan black chicken ceased to be a symbol of wealth and power, reducing to merely a commonplace farm animal. As a result, its cultivation in Korea faced severe threats. The family-led conservation programme continues to this day, now bolstered by a growing number of volunteers.
The book also alludes to the ‘Chicken of Tomorrow’ competition staged in the United States from 1946 to 1951, an event that fundamentally shaped the trajectory of modern meat-poultry farming.
Modern white broiler chickens are chiefly a cross between the White Cornish of Cornwall and the White Plymouth Rock of the United States. The Cornish is prized for its heavily developed breast meat, while the White Plymouth Rock is noted for its rapid growth rate. Selective crossbreeding between these two lines yielded the foundational prototype for today’s commercial white broiler.

The book also suggests that the white-feathered broiler could serve as a symbol of the Anthropocene. The term “Anthropocene” was primarily coined by atmospheric scientists and geologists to underscore humanity’s profound impact on the Earth’s biosphere.
But how exactly do humans influence the planet through white-feathered broilers?
Today’s white-feathered broilers differ markedly from their ancestors in skeletal morphology, pathology, and genetics. While bred for rapid growth, they have virtually lost all ability to survive in the wild. Their feet are poorly suited for scratching up food, their wings are severely underdeveloped, and without human intervention, they simply cannot survive.
Indeed, they are a species born entirely to fulfil human needs. Consequently, Bennett of the University of Leicester posits that the white-feathered broiler qualifies as the emblematic species of the Anthropocene.
II. The Ancestors of the Chicken: The Red Junglefowl
In his writings, Darwin noted that the modern domestic chicken likely originated from the red junglefowl of the tropical forests in eastern India.
Further research in archaeology and modern biology has revealed, however, that the chicken’s ancestry isn’t solely red junglefowl. Genetic introgression from the wild grey junglefowl gave rise to traits such as yellow skin and yellow beaks in modern domestic chickens, characteristics largely inherited from their grey junglefowl relatives.
In 2020, Wang Mingshan’s team published a study in Cell Research investigating which of the five extant red junglefowl subspecies was actually domesticated to become the modern chicken. Their findings indicate that the southern subspecies of red junglefowl, currently ranging from southern Yunnan to northern Thailand, is the primary ancestor of the modern domestic chicken.

Between 2021 and 2025, I have been conducting field observations in Xinping County, Yuxi City, Yunnan Province. The natural habitat of the red junglefowl is relatively dry and hot, situated in the tropical zone south of the 23rd parallel north in China. I have filmed videos capturing female red junglefowl foraging. As a wild bird, the red junglefowl possesses remarkable flight capabilities.
Did humans find chickens, or did chickens find humans? is the question posed in the book.
Archaeological research in Thailand has provided some early examples of red junglefowl entering human ecological niches. The cultivation of rice drew red junglefowl closer to human settlements, and through this proximity, they were gradually domesticated by us.

At one of my research sites, an elderly man surnamed Tao told me that the main difference between the red junglefowl and the domestic chicken lies simply in their habitat: the wild birds inhabit the hillsides, while their domestic counterparts keep to the household.
From the locals’ perspective, the relationship between these populations is seen as a continuum bridging nature and culture. That is to say, wild and domesticated birds are regarded as belonging to the same category, or as being capable of ongoing interaction with one another.
As the ancestor of the domestic chicken, the red junglefowl frequently hybridises within its native range. This crossbreeding has given rise to several miniature domestic breeds across China, such as the Dehong, the Dali mountain miniature, the Camellia, and the Ant chicken from Wuzhishan in Hainan. Some are kept for exhibition, while others serve as decoys to attract red junglefowl—a practice that has earned them the local name ‘decoy chicken’.

This type of chicken is used locally to lure red junglefowl and also forms an important part of the local diet. Locals will finely chop its skin, meat, and bones together and stir-fry them, creating a dish known as “bone mince,” traditionally served to honoured guests.
It is evident that the hybridisation or gene flow between the red junglefowl and domestic chickens has shaped the species we now call “chicken,” while also fostering a diverse array of culinary options.
Red junglefowl lay very few eggs, with January to May constituting their fixed breeding season. Following the breeding period, they experience a phenomenon known as “feather wear,” where the feathers on their necks become short and black. This is widely considered a self-preservation strategy employed by wild birds during the non-breeding months.
Compared to domestic chickens, the red junglefowl has a distinctly streamlined physique, making it well-suited for foraging and escaping predators in the wild.

III. Vanishing Local Chicken Breeds
As of 2024, China’s Livestock and Poultry Breed Catalogue lists 140 local chicken breeds. Adapted to local climates and widely recognised within their communities, these breeds carry distinct regional, genetic, and cultural characteristics.
Take the well-known Taihe silkie, for instance, which was once presented to Thailand as a state gift. The Yanjin silkie ranks among Yunnan’s six most celebrated chicken breeds; it closely resembles the Lianshan silkie documented in *Vanishing Foods*, though it is noticeably larger. The Haidong chicken, pictured bottom right, originates from northern Qinghai and parts of the bordering regions in Gansu. The Bai’er huang, meanwhile, stands as one of China’s most prolific egg-laying local breeds today.


Next, let me tell you about the chickens from my own household.
This particular bird was a birthday gift from my uncle thirteen years ago. It was an egg-laying breed widely kept in our area back then. Though short in stature and weighing only about 1.5 kg, it was a prolific layer. It was also commonly used to hatch our local breeds of geese and ducks.
The black and yellow hens beside it are a yellow-feathered broiler breed introduced to the area at the time. These yellow-feathered birds differ greatly from local chickens, creating a neat complementary pairing.

Why the complementary pairing?
We have a notably tall breed in our area known as the long-legged chicken. Roosters can grow to nearly a metre tall or even taller, weighing up to 3.5–4 kg. The hens, however, lay very few eggs and are prone to paralysis during incubation. Consequently, people traditionally keep both breeds together, using the smaller hens to brood the eggs of the larger breed.

The white frizzle-feathered black-bone chicken shown below is a renowned medicinal breed, mainly found in local ethnic minority villages. Among them, the white-feathered, green-eared frizzle variety holds particularly high medicinal value.
It is valued not only for medicine but also for its cultural significance. For instance, when a household faces misfortune, locals would traditionally invite a shaman to perform a ritual using this chicken to ward off evil. The so-called warding-off-evil ritual is simply meant to cleanse the home of ill fortune.

Following 2010, the frizzled black-boned chicken gradually vanished, interbreeding with yellow-feathered broilers and Silkie chickens. As various commercial broilers, laying hens, and imported breeds took hold, our local gene pool steadily diluted.
It is fair to say that the original three local breeds are now gone. Across the country, regional chicken varieties are similarly on a path to extinction.
Let us briefly examine why these regional breeds have disappeared.
After China’s transition to a market economy, the relaxation of household registration rules spurred greater population mobility. As waves of rural labour moved into urban centres, the number of small-scale poultry keepers steadily dwindled.
I still faintly recall how, during the height of that migration boom, our local market days would overflow with regional chickens. Within just a year or two, every adult bird, chick, and egg was snapped up. I have never seen those local varieties again.
On another front, globalisation brought in commercial broilers and laying breeds that outperformed local stock in terms of husbandry efficiency, growth rates, and yield. This shift not only reduced backyard flocks but also fundamentally altered the breeds being reared.
The third factor is commercialisation. The rise of agribusinesses and professional poultry farms centralised production, while smallholder and household flocks steadily contracted. Urbanisation only deepened this transformation in the motivations for keeping poultry.
I observed that during the ‘Beautiful Countryside’ initiative in my home region, authorities required every household to pen in their free-range birds. Once confined, regional breeds proved prone to illness, struggled to sustain natural breeding cycles, and prompted new sanitation requirements alongside zoonotic disease risks. In the wake of global avian flu outbreaks, public caution towards poultry has only grown.

IV. Chickens and Cultural Diversity
Take chickens as an example. Traditional terms describing chicken plumage, such as Gai Sha, Lu Hua, San Cai, and Kui Hua, are now largely forgotten, as modern life rarely brings us into contact with chickens of such varied colours.
In my home province of Guizhou, when a Miao family arranges a betrothal, the entire village contributes the largest chicken each household has reared. Neighbours then gather for a communal feast to witness the engagement, a ceremony traditionally known as the “Yang Mao Chicken” feast.
The large birds once used for these engagements were actually High-Legged chickens. Towering and prolific meat producers, presenting one to relatives was a mark of great respect and prestige. Following the extinction of the High-Legged breed, they are now typically replaced by commercial broilers such as the “882” strain, or meat chickens with black and red plumage.
As natural incubation by hens becomes increasingly rare, smallholder farmers no longer breed their own local stock, preferring instead to buy chicks directly from the market. The disappearance of hens capable of brooding has led to a sharp decline in local duck and goose populations; traditionally, domestic ducks were hatched and reared under the care of mother hens.
Among the Yi people of Little Liangshan, chickens are believed to have originated from “Red Snow” alongside humans and ten other creatures, a lineage collectively known as the “Twelve Branches of the Snow Clan”. Like humans, chickens are thought to possess fingers and are generally classified as “clawed beings”. Consequently, they must not be mistreated or slaughtered indiscriminately, neither in daily husbandry nor during ceremonies. In ritual contexts, they are held in particularly high esteem for their perceived ability to drive away malevolent spirits.

A lineage chant concerning chickens has been passed down locally, tracing their origins and their place in the world:
The local vernacular is rich with vocabulary to describe the chicken’s build, feather colour, and other physical traits. These highly varied, vividly plumaged, and distinct breeds were once a common sight in everyday life here.
But this was merely an observation from my fieldwork. Looking back now, the landscape has shifted dramatically.

When I returned in 2023, I ran into this same lady again. However, the sale of live poultry had been banned at the local market, and crossbred chickens had become commonplace in the area. She told me that the birds on sale were no longer locally reared native breeds. She explained that it had become impossible to source them at all; the entire procurement chain had broken down.
Among the Yi people there is a proverb that goes, “A broiler is no true chicken.” Consequently, divination is performed exclusively with local or Yi-native birds. Divination takes place after the sacrificial rites, often intended to foretell the family’s fortune in the coming years and the weather for the days ahead. For instance, if the bird’s occipital bone bears a dark spot, it is taken as a sign that rain is imminent.
During the Torch Festival, the Yi people require young hens that have never laid an egg and possess white skin for their sacrifices. If the local breeds known in the Lesser Liangshan region as “Nuosu Wa” or Yi chickens were to disappear, could the festival’s sacrificial rites possibly continue? At the time, I harboured genuine doubts.
V. Protecting the “Chicken of Tomorrow”
On 29 December 2005, the Animal Husbandry Law of the People’s Republic of China was promulgated, followed on 1 July 2006 by the Measures for the Administration of Conservation Farms, Nature Reserves and Gene Banks for Livestock and Poultry Genetic Resources. These measures marked the beginning of a step-by-step approach to safeguarding local breeds.
This image was taken in 2018 at Daping Village in Yuanyang County. The villagers are predominantly Hani and are deeply averse to outside breeds. Unwritten customary laws operate in the area, specifically designed to shield their native stock. For instance, chickens from outside the village or those purchased at the market are strictly forbidden from entering. Through this practice, the preservation of local breeds has occurred quite naturally.

In Gasa Town, Xinping County, in 2023, I saw this pine-needle chicken again after many years. The local population of these birds remains relatively robust, and the broader cultural environment differs little from my hometown in Guizhou. At that moment, I began to consider whether it might be possible to introduce some of these breeds.

The establishment of a breed conservation village for Camellia chickens in Manhenacuo, Xishuangbanna, has likewise facilitated a collaborative process in safeguarding local breeds, uniting efforts from the national level right down to the individual village.
By way of a brief summary: between the 1970s and the 1990s, surging demand for meat, eggs, and dairy in developing countries drove a boom in livestock and poultry production. Yet, as individual farms rapidly scaled up, impoverished farmers and small-scale operators were swiftly marginalised and pushed out of the industry.
This profound, demand-driven shift in production saw industrial livestock and poultry breeds from developed countries flood into developing nations. These commercial varieties quickly monopolised the market, compelling local farmers to repeatedly fork out substantial sums for breeding stock. The influx of industrial breeds has homogenised global food systems and dealt a severe blow to indigenous varieties.
As one of the world’s primary centres for poultry domestication, China is home to a wealth of superior local breeds, each capable of meeting the diverse needs of communities across the nation. Yet, those indigenous varieties ill-suited to intensive farming have gradually faded away, squeezed out by commercialisation, globalisation, and a host of social pressures.

The decline in local, self-sufficient poultry keeping means smallholder farmers stand to lose their food sovereignty, alongside a reduction in food diversity. While commercial markets appear to fill the void, they instead burden small-scale household rearing with higher costs and mounting pressure that undermines sustainable, circular farming practices.
As a wild species, the red junglefowl now benefits from institutional safeguards that allow it to maintain its ecological niche and preserve the gene pool of its wild relatives. At the same time, “local chicken breeds” are likewise protected under national policy, though they still require greater backing from regional and community networks. The continuity of traditions such as the Yi chicken culture of the Xiao Liangshan region hinges on the survival of these local varieties.
This intricate entanglement between biodiversity and cultural diversity, which stretches back thousands of years to when the red junglefowl first lived alongside humans, will remain as vibrant as it is unpredictable.
By resisting reductionism and safeguarding a broader range of options, we can keep our own “chicken of tomorrow” firmly in our own hands.


Compiled by: The Paper’s Fan Shu Dang
