Preserved mustard root like this (often labeled “Sichuan Preserved Vegetable”) can be found in cans or jars in your Chinese market. Once opened, they’ll last for months in a sealed container in the fridge. You don’t need much to add big flavor to dishes.
Our original attempt at real-deal Chinese kung pao chicken , adapted from a recipe by a Sichuan chef working in Boston, gets its mouth-numbing heat from Sichuan peppercorns. So does the kung pao chicken from Kenji’s book , based on the version he tried in Sichuan Province. This Chinese-American take, meanwhile, is much less spicy, with cubes of chicken in a thick, slightly gloppy sauce, permeated by a gentle heat. It’s a quick and easy recipe, too: Just stir-fry marinated diced chicken with roasted peanuts, diced celery and peppers, ginger, and red Chinese or árbol chilies, then coat it all in a mixture of soy sauce, chicken broth, vinegar, sesame oil, sugar, and cornstarch. Dinner’s on the table in 30 minutes.
“A lot of people like sparkling wines with really robust, spicy food because it is clean and the bubbles accentuate the dish’s spice. On the other hand, if the food is really spicy, I love wines that help to tame the fire and have relatively low alcohol (chances are, I’ll be drinking a lot of it very quickly!); my favorites are classic Mosel kabinett or spätlese rieslings. For sweeter dishes, especially ones that showcase crispy duck or pork, I’m a huge fan of cru Beaujolais. For either category, try to find wines from classic vintages and quality-minded producers. The more specific the site, the better; if the most you know of the wines provenance is “Mosel”, it might be a good opportunity to dig deeper to find one with a town and vineyard designation. The wine will reward you.”— Eamon Rockey, formerly of Aska (Brooklyn)
“Ma po tofu is a lot of fun with a demi-sec wine from Alsace, like Sylvaner, or a bigger Pinot Gris. These wines have a mellow sweetness and bright acidity. For mushu pork, I think pairing with Riesling or a dry Tokay goes well; Furmint has a lot to offer to all the ingredients from this dish and we don’t play a lot with Hungarian wines, but there is a lot of great potential here. For the Pièce de résistance, peking duck? Well, you must break this down to white, red, or what the person in front of you likes better. If your dining companion likes white better, go with Loire Chenin Blanc. For red, I would go with Languedoc—a medium to bigger body, jam-plummy wine. Corbieres any one?”— Gerardo Acevedo-Vanni, Bocanova (Oakland CA)
The answer came when I was reading through Fucshia Dunlop’s books, in which she mentions that in Northern China, the starchy water leftover from boiling noodles is often drunk like a silky soup or added to sauces to thicken them. It’s exactly the same way an Italian cook will save some pasta water to add to their sauce—the extra dissolved starch thickens the sauce, binding it and helping it cling better to the noodles.
The problem with so many steam-table iterations of this dish lies in the broccoli: It’s too often mushy and bland. To keep it crisp and flavorful here, and get a good sear read on the strips of beef without overcooking them, we stir-fry the ingredients over very high heat, using a wok or a wok insert over a grill.
The pork is the odd man out in the traditional recipe. Fortunately, much like with the beef in Sichuan mapo tofu, the pork is not the star player of the dish. Its role is mainly textural, adding a bit of meaty, bouncy chew that clings to the slippery noodles as you slurp them up. Having already addressed an identical issue when finding a suitable replacement for ground beef in my vegan mapo tofu recipe, I knew what I had to do here: I chopped up a bunch of mushrooms in a food processor, then employed the Chinese technique of dry-frying—cooking them slowly in oil—until they were mostly dehydrated, lightly shriveled, and deeply browned. The resulting little nuggets have great texture and a flavor that is not really pork-like, but savory and rich in its own unique way.
The history of Singapore noodles is unclear—they probably aren’t actually Singaporean—but we are confident about how to make the tastiest version. Most of the seasoning comes from curry powder, which we add to the noodles and vegetables separately so that everything turns out perfectly spiced.
If you’re looking for an introduction to Cambodian cuisine, start with cha kreung satch moan. The stir-fry brings together a combination of salty, sweet, pungent, spicy, and herbal flavors. It starts with a paste made by pounding lemongrass, galangal, fresh turmeric, and plenty of makrut lime leaves. This paste gives the chicken a vibrant yellow color while holy basil and jalapeños offer fresh, crisp, and bright flavors.
Return pot of water to a hard boil and add noodles. Cook, stirring regularly to prevent noodles from sticking to each other or the bottom, until barely cooked through with a springy bite, about 4 minutes. Drain, reserving 3/4 cup of cooking liquid. Add cooking liquid to bowl with sauce and stir to combine.
