Traditionally, when people ask me what they can bring to a Sichuan banquet, my answer has always been “cold beer.” I have a suspicion that some guests find this a bit disappointing. They yearn for a higher value-ad. This weekend I had an epiphany. Cold beer…. or Peanut Oil!
Because that shit is expensive and Costco doesn’t stock it.
I came to this conclusion after making my third different home-made chili sauce over the weekend. (Along with a mala dipping powder whose strength could possibly be measured with a Geiger counter.) In doing so, I consumed a considerable portion of my precious, precious peanut oil reserves.
But that wasn’t the only epiphany! I also finally solved a problem that had been bedeviling me. My track record in home-made chili sauce has been spotty. Sometimes awesome, sometimes not. I’ve tried a lot of different recipes with different kinds of chili peppers and a rotating cast of special ingredients, but consistent excellence has eluded me.
This weekend, however, I learned how to go slow.
The three sauces I made were variations of three recipes that I have come to rely on: Chili Oil with Black Beans from The Woks of Life, Carolyn Phillips’ Guizhou Chili Paste, and a basic chili oil from The Mala Market. I also made a Mala Dip Mix from Spicy Element.
I don’t know why it happened to be on this weekend that I finally found the requisite patience. Maybe it was the crazy weather – as windy as I can ever remember it being in the Bay Area, with bouts of rain that mitigated against any outdoor activity. I had a Sunday to myself and I wasn’t going anywhere. I put on a John Coltrane playlist, I found a functioning candy thermometer, and I told myself that no matter what happened, I wasn’t going to burn the chilis! I was going to take my time and simmer gently and seduce these sauces into existence.
The results were creamy and smooth, exquisitely spicy but not bitter or raw. The chili sauces of my dreams are in my refrigerator.
Some technical points: I have decided that some of the recipes that call for “medium” heat really mean “low” – at least on my range. And after much trial and error, I have discovered that once you get your oil up to a certain temperature, you can stay close to the desired level for a decent amount of time even after turning the heat down quite low. Whatever the case, low is the way to go. Go with the low flow.
But the most critical factor in this weekend’s success, I think, was my mental zone. I wasn’t trying to make the sauces while prepping something else, or striving to make two sauces simultaneously, or trying to get stuff done as quickly and efficiently as possible so I could move on to a new task on my to do list. I just turned Coltrane up loud enough to drown out the roar of the wind and I kept a close eye on the bubbling oil and I did not want to do anything else at all in the world but become one with my chili sauce. I let the chili sauce tell me how it wanted to be made. This is the principle of non-action as applied to spicy condiments.
The year of the dragon beckons and I am ready!