It's not as popular with the U.S. audience as it is with the British (yet), but it seems that as palates are shifting and folks are becoming more and more accustomed to spicier foods, jalfrezi is getting primed to win over this side of the pond as well. With its origins in China, jalfrezi is more similar in its cooking method to dry-fried Chinese dishes rather than the typical wet Indian curry. This one incorporates chickpeas, potatoes and spinach, and a simple chutney of cilantro, garlic, chile, and lime juice finishes it off.

The key to the garlicky flavor in this fried rice is infusing the oil used to fry the rice with garlic beforehand, then straining out the garlic bits and adding them to the rice at the end. This prevents simply click the up coming website garlic from burning and leaving behind a bitter taste. The intense garlic flavor of this fried rice makes it the perfect accompaniment to savory and saucy dishes like Filipino-style chicken adobo .

Perhaps the biggest key to making excellent dan dan noodles is to make your own roasted chile oil. When done right, it gets a rich, fruity, smoky flavor that none of the store-bought stuff can touch. It's really quite simple. Toasted Sichuan peppercorns have a sweet, citrus-like aroma with a mouth-numbing quality, while roasted chile oil brings on the heat.

Tailgating staple, vegan-style, with Vegetarian Bean Chili served on top of fritos with Pickled Red Onions , jalapeños, and avocado. A sprinkle of fresh cilantro, a scattering of sliced scallions, and a squeeze of lime all add freshness.

These 'shrooms are marinated in a miso-based sauce that adds a rich, meaty flavor to the already umami-filled mushroom. They're then roasted and sliced thin, served carpaccio-style: sprinkled with coarse salt, black pepper, lemon zest, greens, and really good olive oil. Crushed pistachios add their nutty sweetness.

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.

While the most traditional versions don't include a sesame product, I've recently taken to adding a touch of tahini to my sauce, after having tasted it in Chichi's vermicelli with chili oil recipe. Not enough to bring a distinct sesame flavor to the dish, but just enough to lightly bind the sauce and add a touch of creaminess to help it cling to the noodles a little bit better.

Making the sauce for dan dan noodles is exceedingly simple once you've got the basic ingredients in your pantry. It's just a matter of mixing them in the right proportions. Soy sauce forms the base, while Chinkiang black vinegar lends its characteristic acidity—it has a sweet, almost balsamic vinegar-esque aroma to it, though not quite as syrupy as that. Fermented broad bean chili paste comes in many forms throughout China or can be purchased online. Chili oil is a given, and while it's best (and remarkably easy!) to make at home, there are a number of good options available at any decent Chinese market. Look for the kind which has actual chile, garlic, and ginger debris in the bottom of the jar, not the completely clear kind you see in easy-pour bottles. That debris is where the magic is at.

Here's another recipe in my quest to take the cute and cuddly animals out of all of my favorite foods in a no-BS, as-delicious-as-the-real-thing, good-enough-for-anyone kind of way. I'm particularly happy with this one, which makes sense, as it's a logical extension of my vegan mapo tofu recipe. I'm talking about the other great pillar of cheap-and-easy Sichuan cuisine: dan dan noodles.

Chow mein is another Chinese-American standard that's so easy to make at home and customize to your liking, you may never feel the need to order it again. For this DIY version, we quickly cook vegetables (chives, julienned carrots and scallions, bean sprouts) and tofu in a wok, then combine them with long, slender chow mein noodles and a soy-based sauce. Add extra vegetables, more tofu, or meat to turn it into a heartier meal.

The most famous ding in America is almost certainly kung pao chicken—you'll find it on pretty much any Chinese takeout menu in the country. Our version is made with bell peppers, celery, peanuts, and a mild sauce thickened with cornstarch. We use thigh meat for the diced chicken, which stands up to the heat of the wok better than white meat.

Lentil soup is one bowl of brown sludge that I can really get behind. It hits that sweet spot of being not so unappetizing that you wouldn't even try it, but being just unappetizing enough that the mental shock of how good it tastes compared to how it looks is enough to send an endorphin jolt running through your system.

Place mushrooms in the bowl of a food processor and process until pieces no larger than 1/2-inch remain, about 6 short pulses. Transfer to a small saucepan. Add vegetable oil and stir to combine. Place over medium-high heat and cook, stirring occasionally, until mushroom pieces shrink and are deep golden brown, about 8 minutes. Pour through a fine-mesh strainer set over a small bowl. Reserve mushroom pieces and discard all but 1 tablespoon oil.