Posts tagged Spicy
Spicy Hunan Beef with Cumin

 One of the best parts about revisiting recipes from previous years is seeing how little changes can make a big difference. Take, for example, this Spicy Hunan Beef with Cumin dish. The version from June 2010 involved fresh red chilis with crushed red pepper flakes. Over the weekend, I tweaked the recipe with dried red chilis with chili oil and a bit of chili sauce. The result was an even better dish, with a hint of smokiness from the dried red chilis and chili oil that the first version didn't have. It'll be my go-to version from now on.

When I moved into my new apartment a few months ago, the first thing I did was take inventory of the cupboards. (The previous tenants had left a decent supply of spices, oils, and condiments.) The second thing I did, even though it was almost 10pm by the time I was done unpacking, was march over the Trader Joe's and buy ground cumin. I had not planned on cooking that night. It just made me sleep better, knowing my kitchen was no longer egregiously understocked.

Other than sea salt, cumin is the spice that I cannot with without. If I were only allowed two spices on a deserted island (with an otherwise fully-stocked kitchen), and had to choose between cumin and a pepper grinder, the former might win out. Just a whiff of toasted cumin seeds brings back a flood of memories of the best foods I have ever eaten: melty lamb shoulder from a Yemeni restaurant in Brooklyn, late night beef kebabs from a street vendor in Beijing, or pilau from an Afghani restaurant near Boston.

Read More
Hot and Sour Chicken Noodle Soup

As much as I love to cook, I never have time to plan weekday lunches. After a frazzled morning at the desk, trying to get just one more bit of work done, I am ravenous by 1 or 2pm. My lame attempts at breakfast (usually Wheatables and fruit gummies) do not suffice.

I storm out of the building in a mad search for anything edible on the street. Unfortunately, other than mediocre $10 sandwiches and faux-Mexican, there is nothing except Safeway and Whole Foods. So I go for supermarket soup. Soup is filling. Soup is warming. Soup is cheap (well, not at Whole Foods). But sooner or later, you get sick of Chunky Chicken Noodle and Spicy Southwestern Bean. I still craved a piping hot bowl of broth-and-protein in the early afternoon, but needed a change.

This week I decided to add a Chinese take-out touch to chicken noodle soup. And make a big batch on Sunday night. While I still like the hot and sour soup I posted two year ago, this one is much, much more filling. And if you are low on Asian pantry staples like canned bamboo shoots and lily buds, you can still make this. I went to the market and bought chicken breast, mushrooms, and scallions, et voilà. 

Read More
Sichuan Boiled Beef in Fiery Sauce

I made this for dinner early last week. By the time Jacob and I were halfway done, we were already sniffling, with sweat beads ready to form. Even in the pantheon of Sichuan cuisine, this is one helluva spicy dish.

Shuizhu niurou (水煮牛肉) is translated literally into English as "water-boiled beef", a rather benign name for such a potent tongue-burning dish. Restaurant versions usually come in a clay or iron pot, with about 100 chilis foating on the surface of the bright red broth, and a few pieces of beef poking through. It could more aptly be named "water-boiled chilis with beef garnish." The fish version can be equally alarming. But for spice fiends and native Sichuanese, this fiery dish is pure delicious comfort food.

Fortunately, the version I made at home is manageable, though just barely. The nice part is that if you don't care about how impressively red the broth is, you can adjust the spiciness to your tolerance level, by 1) using less chili bean sauce, or 2) leaving the dried chili peppers whole instead of chopping them up and unleashing the beastly seeds.

Read More
Sweet Chili-Glazed Tofu

In the dead of summer in Sichuan province, folks regularly eat incredibly spicy, stomach-burning hot pot with the belief that sweating profusely will cool you off. It makes sense, then, that some of the world's spiciest cuisines (Mexican, Indian, Malaysian, etc.) hail from the hottest climates.

I cook and eat spicy food year-round, even if I have to pour myself an enormous iced drink and blast the fan to enjoy it. My latest dish from two nights ago is a simple but very addictive Sweet Chili-Glazed Tofu. If you're a fan of mapo tofu, like 99.5% of people who have ever eaten Sichuan food, this is another good tofu recipe to try. More tongue-tickling spicy than ma la, with a sweet kick and subtle fruity aroma from cider vinegar, this quickish stir-fry makes an easy one-bowl dinner. With lettuce wraps instead of rice, it also becomes a good backyard cookout appetizer. 

Read More
Kung Pao Tofu

This afternoon, less than 24 hours before hopping on a train to Hong Kong, I was faced with a dilemma. Do I boil some instant ramen noodles and start packing early, to ensure I remember everything and not wait until the last minute? Or do I make myself a good, hearty lunch, while updating my iPod with all the new music and podcasts necessary for a long train ride?

A perpetual procrastinator, I chose the latter.

The plan was to make Kung Pao Chicken (Gongbao Jiding), because that was what I was craving. Then I looked in the fridge and saw a pack of lonely-looking tofu, which would certainly go uneaten before the trip.

Read More
Noodles with Hot Bean Sauce

Remember when I wrote about the kaleidoscope of tofu available in China? Here's a couple I picked up today at the market:

The lighter colored pack is 豆干 (dòu gān), the super firm kind I like to use in dishes like caramelized tofu. The other was new to me, and intrigued me because the name on the packaging: 啤酒肉片 (píjiǔ ròupiàn) literally reads as "Beer Meat Slices." I know the character for "meat" in Chinese can also mean the flesh of any food, from pigs to pineapples to tofu. But the "beer" part I couldn't figure out, since it wasn't listed as one of the ingredients.

Nor did it taste much like beer. Then again, Chinese beers themselves don't taste much like beer. (So either it really was cooked with a Tsingdao-like hop-less concoction, or the marketers were desperately trying to find an appealing name.) Either way, the tofu was fried, and although it didn't taste like beer it had the nice slightly sweet flavor and meaty texture I wanted for noodles with hot bean sauce.

Read More