On Thanksgiving Day, more than a dozen hopeful holiday diners crammed into benches just outside a worn Sharpstown strip mall. The four families, chattering in Cantonese, English and Mandarin, were waiting for a chance to pass through Peking Cuisine’s heavy wooden doors.

As I approached the register for a to-go order, the cashier already knew what I was going to ask. “No more duck.”

Peking Cuisine and many of Houston’s Chinese restaurants have always been crowded during the holidays. And like many of those restaurants, Peking duck is the first menu item to sell out. Though the dish has a clear parallel to whole turkey and other popular bird entrées, this mega-popular delicacy has a deep history that Houstonians are still learning. For one, it’s great for holidays.

“Peking duck is the fancy meal you eat to impress people,” laughed Mei Qi, a senior development manager at Asia Society Texas.

Named after the old transliteration of China’s capital city Beijing, the dish’s lore stretches back before the 16th century. According to legend, a general marched his army into a small rural town, demanding a local chef to feed his entire army. With only one duck, the chef separated the crispy skin from the meat and sliced everything thin. Supplementing the meal with steamed crepes and vegetables, the meat-filled wraps became a culinary hit. The iconic meal has even inspired the name of the Chinese Basketball Association’s Beijing Ducks and was featured in the last minutes of the holiday film A Christmas Story.

The U.S. first heard about Peking duck when President Richard Nixon visited China in 1972. According to Qi, Nixon adored the dish during his weeklong trip. He reportedly talked it up so much, it spurred a rise in popularity among America’s Chinese restaurants, especially in New York City. In recent years, restaurants across America have started innovating on the classic favorite, like a flambe Peking turkey in Hutong. The dish has even taken main billing at a number of upscale Seattle restaurants.

In Houston, we’re not quite there yet. At Peking Cuisine, the sliced duck is served on a lazy Susan with freshly steamed pancakes housed in a tortilla warmer. Typically, the meal also includes a soup made from the duck’s carcass or a stir-fry made with leftover meat.

To the staff at Peking Cuisine, Thanksgiving and Christmas are simply lucrative business opportunities. Employees said the restaurant sold around 180 roasted ducks on Thanksgiving Day alone. Usually, the restaurant churns out closer to 150 on a busier weekend. The monumental feat takes nearly days to accomplish, with ducks prepped hours before the roasting.

Roasting a Peking duck is said to take at least 24 hours, though some recipes call for 40 hours of prep. In order to get a crispy skin, chefs must separate the skin from the fat before cooking. With modern technology, this feat has been accomplished by inflating the duck like a balloon during prep stages.

Elsewhere in Houston, with a Chinese population of more than 100,000, a growing interest in Peking duck has resulted in more duck-centered restaurants. Recipes and demand for duck have come alongside ongoing waves of immigration. Gradually, non-Chinese Houstonians have been trying the dish and have loved it. Currently, the city is host to nearly 20 Peking duck specialty restaurants, including staples like Peking Cuisine, Bamboo House and Duck N Bao, which opened in 2021. Qi said Asia Society used to maintain a spreadsheet of their favorite Houston duck restaurants.

“Before the pandemic,” laughed Qi, “we got through four or five of those restaurants!”

These restaurants’ menus still largely focus on perfecting the classic dish, while offering other Chinese goodies. The duck itself is an exhaustive dish, requiring both finesse and time, and the skill of roasting duck takes years to master and even longer to perfect.

Technical aspects aside, Houston’s Chinese immigrant population is sorely lacking something found in New York or Seattle: time and size. In larger cities with more established Chinese populations, cities are likely to see more and more second- and third-wave generations.

In Houston, where Chinese immigration began to increase in the 1990s, there’s a larger population of first- and second-generation residents, alongside the elusive 1.5 generation—a class of Americans born abroad, but immigrating to the U.S. at a young age. The 1.5 and second-generation kids are the bridge between two different cultures.

The younger generations have pioneered innovation among Asian restaurants, bringing fusion twists to traditional favorites. In Houston, places like The Blind Goat and Blood Bros. BBQ come to mind, which fuse together Asian and American cuisines. With the rise of local eateries offering Peking duck, maybe Houston, like Seattle and the Big Apple, will see innovation and growth soon.