Guiyang's siwawa, the snack you fold yourself from a table of small bowls

The plate of wrappers arrives first. Each one is about the width of a palm and thin enough to read a menu through. Then the bowls come, one tray and then another, until the table is crowded with shredded things: carrot, cucumber, kelp, pickled radish, fried soybeans, a pale tangle of bean sprouts, and a heap of chopped, jointed root that makes some visitors set their chopsticks down. Nobody brings you a finished dish. In Guiyang (贵阳), the capital of Guizhou province, that is the point. Siwawa (丝娃娃), the ‘silk doll’, is a snack you put together yourself, one wrap at a time, and the city eats it as casually as other places eat a sandwich.

What arrives at the table

The wrappers are the quiet part of the meal. They are made from a thin batter, usually rice or wheat flour, cooked on a flat griddle until just set, then stacked in a small bamboo steamer or under a cloth to stay soft. Pick one up and it droops over your fingers like a handkerchief. That softness matters, because almost everything you put inside it is crisp, sour, or both.

The bowls change from counter to counter, but some things turn up again and again. Haidai si (海带丝), shredded kelp, is slippery and salty. Suan luobo (酸萝卜), pickled radish, brings the sourness the province is known for. Most counters also put out fried soybeans for crunch, juegen fen (蕨根粉), dark noodles made from fern-root starch, cucumber and carrot cut into matchsticks, and often cuishao (脆哨), small cubes of pork fried until they rattle. Some places set out a dozen bowls and others more. Nobody expects you to use them all in one wrap.

You usually order at a counter by pointing at a board. Some shops charge by the number of wrappers and others sell a set for one or two people. A few will top up a filling bowl if you ask. The board tells you which way the shop works, and the person at the counter will tell you faster.

How to fold a silk doll

The name explains the method. Si (丝) means shreds, and wawa (娃娃) means baby or doll. A finished wrap looks like a swaddled infant, its face, the open top, turned upward. To make one, lay a wrapper flat across your non-dominant palm. Use chopsticks to take a pinch from three or four bowls and lay the strands lengthwise down the middle rather than piling them up.

Fold the bottom edge up over the filling first. This is the seal that stops the sauce running out. Then bring the left side over, then the right, so you are holding a small cone with its mouth open. It should be about the length of a finger. Watch a table of regulars and you will see a loose rhythm: fold, pour, eat in two bites, reach for the next wrapper while still chewing.

The most common first-timer mistake is overfilling. Wrappers this thin tear when packed, and a torn wrap becomes a handful of wet vegetables. Three or four strands of each filling is plenty. Variety comes from the next wrap, not from cramming this one.

The sauce poured into the cone

In Guizhou, most dishes come with a small bowl of zhanshui (蘸水), a dipping liquid made to suit the dish. For siwawa it is thin, sour and hot: vinegar, soy, chilli, sometimes a little stock, often a scatter of chopped herbs. You do not dip the wrap into it. You spoon a little into the open top of the cone and eat straight away, before the wrapper softens.

丝娃娃要自己包，蘸水最后才浇。

That line means you wrap it yourself and pour the sauce in last. It is close to what a counter worker will act out if they see you hesitate. The sourness is no accident. Sour flavours run all through Guizhou cooking, from the pickled radish in the bowls to suantang yu (酸汤鱼), the sour-soup fish associated with the Miao and Dong communities in the southeast of the province. Its name shows up on restaurant signs across Guiyang.

Then there is zhe'ergen (折耳根), the chopped raw root of Houttuynia cordata. Locals eat it with obvious pleasure. Newcomers often say it tastes of fish and pepper at the same time. Make one wrap with it and one without, and decide for yourself. It turns up again in the zhanshui served with other dishes, so it helps to know early whether you like it.

Two more small plates from the same streets

Across most of the city, siwawa is eaten in the afternoon and evening, and the counters that serve it tend to sit among other small-plate stalls. One you will smell before you see it is lianai doufu guo (恋爱豆腐果), ‘love tofu’: small blocks of tofu grilled on a wire rack over charcoal until they puff up, then slit open along one side and filled with a spoonful of chilli zhanshui. The name comes with a story about courting couples who met over the grill, and the details change depending on who tells it.

In the morning, look for changwang mian (肠旺面): thin egg noodles in a broth slicked with red chilli oil, topped with pork intestine, cubes of blood curd and more crisped pork. It is the city's best-known breakfast, served fast at counters where the bowls are lined up before the noodles go in. Erqi Road (二七路), near Guiyang Railway Station, is the snack street most locals will send you to for all three. Qingyun Market (青云市集), an evening market of food stalls, is busier and more photographed.

Getting there, when to go, and what to check

Most visitors arrive by high-speed train at Guiyang North (贵阳北站, Guiyang Beizhan), well outside the old centre. Metro Line 1 runs from there into town. Get off at Guiyang Railway Station for Erqi Road, or at Penshuichi (喷水池) for the central shopping streets. From the centre it is a short walk down to the Nanming River and Jiaxiu Tower (甲秀楼), the riverside pavilion the city uses as its emblem. Check train times and seats on 12306, the national rail booking platform, and check the metro operator's own site for any line changes.

Guiyang's summers are mild for southern China, and the city leans on that reputation. Spring and autumn are comfortable too. The one thing you can count on is rain. A local saying, tian wu san ri qing (天无三日晴), holds that the sky never manages three clear days in a row, so pack something waterproof in any month.

Siwawa costs about what you would pay for a street snack, but shops charge in different ways, so read the board or ask before you sit down. Opening hours vary and change. Check a counter's listing on Dazhong Dianping (大众点评) or Amap (高德地图, Gaode Ditu) before crossing town for it. Many counters display a payment QR code, so set up Alipay or WeChat Pay with a foreign card before the trip, and carry some cash for stalls that prefer it. The one mistake to avoid is pouring the sauce before you fold. A wet wrapper splits in your hand, and siwawa only works because it holds together just long enough to eat.