The first time I encountered spicy chili crisp was about 18 months ago in the kitchen of Steinbeck’s Ale House in Oakhurst. Chef Andy Gonzales was showing me how he prepared his eggplant and noodle dish that I had tried once and wanted to inhale every day since. His Chinese-style noodle sauce — applied amply and glowing red — was everything: sweet, hot, savory and bright, an incredible foil for the ingredients and the aromatics like cilantro and green onion. But it was more, both crunchy in a surprising way and a little tingly.
The sauce’s base ingredient, he said, was Lao Gan Ma Spicy Chili Crisp — a chile oil condiment that contains fried onions and Sichuan peppercorn in addition to the expected peppers. He bequeathed me half a large jar, which I nursed as long as possible. Once the jar was scraped clean, I went in search of more. Lao Gan Ma products stood out on Asian market shelves for their red labels centered by a drawing of company founder Tao Huabi. While the company made a number of different chile sauces — some with black beans, mushrooms, or little cubes of pickled vegetable — the spicy chili crisp proved elusive. Those in the know were buying out the stock, I presumed. Eventually I learned to sate my spicy chili crisp needs with mail order.
Yet something interesting happened in the intervening months. Spicy chili crisp lovers formed a full-fledged cult. Cooking publications filled with love letters to the condiment, and crazy uses for it made the rounds. Apparently, spicy chili crisp with soft-serve vanilla ice cream is a thing. Now there are a number of competitors as well as increased availability of the OG. On my last visit to a big Chinese market, I saw a pallet of large jars stacked by the entrance.
But I don’t need any of it because I devised a recipe that I now prefer. Mine is crunchier, spicier and cleaner tasting. I like it as a table condiment to dollop on, say, a bowl of ramen and as a cooking ingredient to give punch to stir-fries.
Credit: John Kessler
Credit: John Kessler
My ingredient list is simple, but contains two items that may give you pause. First, you need Sichuan peppercorns, which are now readily available at Asian markets (where they sometimes carry the label “wild pepper”), showing up in mainstream supermarkets and a click away online. Next, I unapologetically use MSG, as does the original. Part of the luscious surprise of spicy chili crisp is the way the savory undertone of umami shatters into crunch and tingle. If the thought of MSG gives you pause (despite its presence in nature and nearly every salty snack out there), you can use nutritional yeast or mushroom powder for umami. Just don’t use anything liquid.
Credit: John Kessler
Credit: John Kessler
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