In the past few years I’ve grown so fond of the myriad flavors that make up Thai, Vietnamese and Korean cuisines that I’ve more or less back burnered Chinese food. But Szechuan has restored my interest.
Szechuan province, in southwestern China, is a land of bold flavors and a variety of chili pepper that will clear your sinuses and cool you down on the hottest of days. “One dish, one shape, hundreds of dishes, hundreds of tastes” they say there, referring to their passion for balancing flavors, aromas, textures and colors. I’d say they’re speaking my language, metaphorically at least.
A number of people have told us that the most authentic representation of Szechuan in the Los Angeles area is the food at Chung King in Monterey Park. It seems every food blogger in town has written about this place, but with all those endorsements, Himself and I knew this was where we had to go for the goods.
The dominant color in this meal was RED, for all the peppers so liberally strewn over our dishes.
And for the fire extinguisher mounted on the wall right next to our table (next to the thermometer). AND for the color of my face when I’d finished my chili-laden meal (see the last pic). This was definitely a waterproof mascara meal!
Our big discovery: the lip-numbing quality of Szechuan food does not come from those hot peppers. I always assumed that they were so hot that the sensory overload would finally drive your nerve endings to cry “uncle!” and numb out on you. But no, there’s a completely different ingredient at work here: the Szechuan peppercorn, which is not actually a pepper or a chili at all. Szechuan peppercorns are aromatic and lemony–they come from a plant that’s in the citrus family. But they hold a secret: this is where the lip numbing comes in–they contain a substance that causes a “general neurological confusion,” to quote culinary science go-to guy Harold McGee. Beyond flavor, Szechuan peppercorns are added to help you deal with those fiery peppers by producing both numbness and a sort of sensory effervescence, kind of like when you drink a carbonated beverage while eating spicy food. (By the way, water is the last thing you want to drink while eating hot food, because it spreads the heat, rather than washing it away.) The outer husk is toasted, ground and added to dishes just before they’re served.
You actually do have some control over how much heat you get in a Szechuan meal. These hollowed out super-hot chilis are lavishly served over your order, and you control the amount of heat you consume by eating a few or a lot–or by picking out the meat and veggies and leaving the peppers behind. It’s up to the individual diner. In spite of the heat, though, the flavors shine right through–ginger, garlic and Chinese five-spice, a blend of cinnamon, cloves, star anise, fennel seed and, ta-dah! Szechuan peppercorn.
My concern all along has been that the heat would completely wipe out the flavor and leave me a done-in pile of sweat, tears and pain. But I was wrong, and I’m champing at the bit for more. Szechuan rocks!