Published: 2 November 2026 | Author: Karl Huang
Most visitors come to Xinjiang for the lamb. We did too, for years, until a Kazakh host in the Ili Valley slid a plate of pale, marbled rounds across the low table and said, simply, “This is kazy. Eat the fat.” That evening changed how we order in the north. Xinjiang horse meat is not a roadside snack like kebabs; it is a winter, northern, pasture food tied to the Kazakh, Kyrgyz and Mongolian communities who have kept horses for meat as long as for riding. The cured sausage version, called kasaz or kazy (қазы), is the dish worth seeking out, and the one most travellers never hear about.
Xinjiang horse meat at a glance
| What it is | Horse rib meat and fat, cured in a casing and boiled; served sliced cold or warm. |
|---|---|
| The sausage name | Kasaz / kazy (Kazakh қазы), sometimes spelled qazi; a finer cousin is chuchuk. |
| Where it lives | Northern Xinjiang only: Ili Valley, Zhaosu, Tekes, Altay, Tacheng. Not Kashgar or Hotan. |
| Real season | Home-made stocks run roughly December to April; vacuum-packed is sold year round. |
| How it is served | Boiled 1.5 to 2 hours, cooled slightly, sliced thin, eaten with broth, onion and noodles. |
| Halal status | Permitted by most schools; Hanafi scholars call it discouraged (makruh), not forbidden. |
What “kasaz” actually is
Strip away the romance and kazy is a practical thing: long strips of horse rib meat and its attached fat, rubbed with little more than salt and pepper, packed into a cleaned intestine casing, tied at intervals, then left to cure and dry through the cold months. When it is time to eat, the whole sausage is boiled in plain water with an onion, rested, and cut across the grain into rounds. What you see on the plate is the point: distinct bands of muscle and a fat seam, proof it was built from real cuts rather than emulsified into paste. A second sausage, chuchuk, is finer and often eaten without boiling. The food encyclopedia TasteAtlas describes kazy as a formal, ceremonial meat of the Central Asian table rather than an everyday one, which matches what we saw at Kazakh gatherings.
The evening we first ate it
We were in the Ili Valley in late January, invited to a winter meal at a relative’s house outside Yining. The room was warm from a stove, and the table, a dastarkhan, was already heavy with bread, onions and bowls of broth. Then came the boiled-meat course: pale rounds of kazy fanned over wide noodles, a ladle of cooking broth poured across, and a small glass of koumiss, the fermented mare’s milk that cuts the richness. Our host watched as we hesitated over the white fat band. “Eat the fat,” he said. “That is the part we keep for guests.” He was right. The meat was lean and clean, closer to beef than lamb, with none of lamb’s perfume. The fat melted rather than clung. We left understanding why a northern family treats a horse sausage as a sign of respect, not just food.
Where to find it (and where not to)
Kazy is a northern speciality, full stop. The best all-round hunting ground is the Ili Valley around Yining, then the county towns of Zhaosu, Tekes and Nileke, the Altay region around Burqin, and Tacheng and Emin to the far north. Kazakh restaurants across the region serve a sliced plate, usually with beshbarmak (the boiled-meat-and-noodle dish). Prices we noted from a 2026 Xinjiang travel guide run from about 80 to 140 yuan per 500 grams loose in small county towns, 90 to 160 in Yining markets, and 110 to 200 for factory vacuum-packed in Urumqi supermarkets; a restaurant plate is typically 60 to 120 yuan. Do not go looking in Kashgar or Hotan. Down south, lamb and beef rule, and asking for horse sausage will get you a puzzled look. If you want the full nomad context first, spend a night in a Kazakh homestay before you start ordering.
When to eat it
The honest season for fresh, home-made kazy is winter: roughly December through April, the months when northern families traditionally slaughter and cure. Buy it in August and you are buying either last winter’s stock or a factory product, which is fine but flatter. Vacuum-packed, dated and boxed kazy travels well and is sold specifically as a gift in Yining and Urumqi, so you can taste the real thing any month if you accept the trade-off. We plan horse-meat hunting for a January or February trip, when the loose, home-cured version is easiest to find at small butchers and market stalls.
How it is made and served
The making is slow and cold on purpose. After the casing is filled and tied, the sausage hangs in a cool, dry shed, sometimes over light spruce or birch smoke, for one to three weeks. It is never eaten straight from the smoke; kazy is boiled before serving, usually 1.5 to 2 hours in plain water with an onion, then cooled slightly and sliced thin. Restaurants that bring it out raw and warm have skipped a step. On a proper spread it arrives as part of the boiled-meat course, beside plain noodles or pasta sheets, with raw onion rings and a ladle of broth. The etiquette is worth knowing: take from the plate nearest you, with your right hand, and do not dig through the meat to find a better piece. And eat the fat, or take a smaller slice next time rather than dissecting the one you have.
What it tastes like, honestly
Cleaner than people expect. Horse meat is lean, slightly sweet, and mineral in a way that sits between beef and venison, without lamb’s musk. The smoke in good kazy is present but restrained, more wood than campfire. The surprise is the fat: it melts at a lower temperature than mutton fat, so it coats the mouth rather than sitting on it. If you already like bresaola or cold-smoked beef, you will be comfortable. If you dislike the idea more than the flavour, the idea will win, and that is a fair position. Plenty of Han Chinese travellers politely pass, and no host takes offence if you say so early.
A note on halal and who actually eats it
Xinjiang is Muslim-majority, so the question comes up. Most Islamic schools of law, including the Maliki, Shafi’i and Hanbali traditions, treat horse meat as permitted when properly slaughtered. The Hanafi school, which influences many Uyghur communities, classifies it as makruh, meaning discouraged but not forbidden. No major authority calls it haram. In practice, the people eating horse meat in Xinjiang are overwhelmingly Kazakh, Kyrgyz and Mongolian families of the north; many Uyghur households avoid it out of that Hanafi preference rather than any prohibition. We cover the wider picture in our guide to halal food rules in Xinjiang. If you follow a strict Hanafi line yourself, simply skip it; if you are curious, you are eating something the region’s own communities have eaten for centuries.
Pairing it with the rest of the table
Kazy is rarely the whole meal. It comes after bread and tea and before something hot, and it leans on a few steady companions: flatbread to wrap the slices, raw onion to cut the fat, broth to loosen it, and noodles underneath. That makes it a natural bridge to two staples of the northern table. Our piece on Xinjiang nang explains the bread that carries almost every Xinjiang bite, and Xinjiang polo covers the rice-and-meat dish that fills the same cold-season niche. Together they make a winter plate that is heavier on horses and sheep than most guidebooks admit.
Practical tips for ordering
First, say early if you do not eat horse. A quiet “I don’t eat horse meat, but the lamb is wonderful” before the plate reaches you lands fine; refusing a slice already placed in front of you is the awkward version. Second, look at the cut end before you buy loose kazy: good sausage shows clear muscle strips and an intact fat layer, while uniform pink paste with scattered fat specks is emulsified factory product. Third, smell it: clean woodsmoke, not sharp liquid-smoke or sourness. Fourth, remember geography. You will find it north of the Tianshan, not south. If you want to learn the hands-on version, a a Uyghur cooking class is a forgiving place to ask questions a restaurant kitchen will not answer.
A carnivore’s day in the Ili Valley
If you want to build a day around it, here is the shape we used. Morning: walk the Yining food bazaars and the loose-meat stalls, watching which casings look hand-tied. Late morning: a Kazakh family lunch with beshbarmak and a kazy plate, taken slowly with tea. Afternoon: buy a vacuum-packed stick from a dated, boxed producer as a gift or souvenir. Evening: a northern hot-pot or grilled-meat dinner where horse sausage is one option among many. It is a full day of meat, honestly, and we were glad we paced it with broth and bread rather than racing the plate.
Common questions about Xinjiang horse meat
Is it safe to eat? Yes, from inspected sources. The cured sausage should come from a reputable maker or a family you trust, and kazy is boiled before serving, which handles the food-safety basics. Buy dated, vacuum-packed product if you are unsure.
Is it halal? Permitted by most Islamic schools; the Hanafi school calls it discouraged but not forbidden. It is a normal part of Kazakh, Kyrgyz and Mongolian Muslim cooking in the north.
Where will I actually find it? Northern Xinjiang: Yining and the Ili Valley, Zhaosu, Tekes, Altay, Burqin, Tacheng. Not Kashgar or Hotan.
What does kazy taste like? Lean, slightly sweet, mineral, between beef and venison, with restrained smoke and a melting fat seam.
Can I take it home? Vacuum-packed, cooked kazy travels well and is sold as a gift; check your airline and home-country rules on bringing meat across borders before you fly.
A note on accuracy and your own judgment
Prices, seasons and availability shift by year and by town, and our notes come from a 2026 reporting trip plus published regional guides, not a fixed menu. We have described what we ate and what local sources report; we are not veterinarians, imams or food-safety inspectors. Confirm halal status with your own scholar if it matters to you, and confirm current prices at the stall. Treat this as a traveller’s note, not a guarantee. Horse meat is a strong, specific food; if you do not eat it, Xinjiang’s lamb, polo and noodles will more than fill the gap.
About the author
Karl Huang is a travel writer who has spent extended seasons driving and eating across Xinjiang’s north, from the Ili Valley to the Altai. He focuses on first-hand, practical guidance for foreign visitors and works with local hosts to document foods most guidebooks skip. His other writing on this site covers Xinjiang polo, Xinjiang nang and the region’s halal dining rules.
