Cumin lamb falls into a wholly different category, however. Given that it's slightly rich, has that wonderful cumin spice yet remains quasi-delicate on the palate, there are countless great pairings for this dish. Anything from S. Rhone/Languedoc stuff, to Cornas, to Loire Cab Franc, to Sangiovese, to Nebbiolo, to Burgundy... there are so many choices. Favorites of mine include the Cab Francs from Baudry (A bargain!), Montevertine "Pian de Ciampolo" from Tuscany, older Bordeaux (mostly left bank or Pomerol) and also the wines of Leon Barral. The Barral wines are magic."— Collin Casey, Namu Gaji (San Francisco)

As former Serious Eats editor Adam Kuban put it, crab rangoons, those little parcels of creamy filling surrounded by crunchy shell, are "just a big ol' excuse for crazy non-Chinese people to eat deep-fried cream cheese." And it's true—but that admission doesn't make them any less delicious. At your local Chinese-American joint, the crab rangoons are almost certainly made with surimi, those artificially colored sticks of reconstituted fish that you find in California rolls. Using real crab instead will give the dumplings a more assertive fish flavor; stick with surimi if you'd like to re-create the "crab" puffs of your youth.

The remaining aromatics are simple. A few tablespoons of chopped preserved Sichuan mustard root, some garlic, and a splash of Shaoxing wine to deglaze the skillet once it's all been stir-fried together.

Transfer noodles to serving bowl and top with pork mixture. Stir vinaigrette and spoon over and around the noodles (you may not want to use all of it). Sprinkle with roasted peanuts, Sichuan peppercorn, grated garlic, and scallion greens. Serve immediately.

The answer came when I was reading through Fucshia Dunlop's books, in which she mentions that in Northern China, the starchy water leftover from boiling noodles is often drunk like a silky soup or added to sauces to thicken them. It's exactly the same way an Italian cook will save some pasta water to add to their sauce—the extra dissolved starch thickens the sauce, binding it and helping it cling better to the noodles.

Return pot of water to a hard boil and add noodles. Cook, stirring regularly to prevent noodles from sticking to each other or the bottom, until barely cooked through with a springy bite, about 4 minutes. Drain, reserving 3/4 cup of cooking liquid. Add cooking liquid to bowl with sauce and stir to combine.

Dan Dan noodles are an ultra-simple dish of cold or warm noodles placed in a bowl with a ladleful of highly seasoned sauce poured on top. In this vegan version, starch-laden Noodle Food Culture|Https://Noodleinsight.Com/ water is used in place of chicken stock to bind the sauce to the noodles, and dry-fried mushrooms are used to give the meatiness and texture usually imparted by pork. It's finished off with fermented chili bean paste, black vinegar, pickled mustard root, and plenty of hot chili oil. Gentlemen, start your slurpring.

Speaking of that clinginess, I ran into my first issue with the vegan version of the dish. Traditionally, the sauce base gets mixed with some rich chicken stock, which adds some natural gelatin and body to the mix. Plain old water or vegetable stock is lacking in that body, making the sauce a little too thin. It runs off the noodles instead of sticking to them. The tahini helps a bit, but my base needed a little extra help.

Like Shao's Lo Mein with Beef and Broccoli , the noodles here are first blanched in hot water. Even though lo mien typically comes pre-cooked, this step will help soften them back up and separate the noodles so they don't clump or break when you stir-fry them.

To Finish : Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add noodles and cook according to package directions. Drain. While noodles are cooking, heat oil in a wok or a small skillet over high heat until smoking. Add pork and preserved vegetable and cook, stirring and shaking constantly, using a spatula or a spoon to break up pork until cooked through, about 1 minute. Transfer to a small bowl and set aside.

Heat 1 tablespoon vegetable oil in a wok over high heat until smoking. Add cabbage and cook, stirring regularly, until lightly browned, about 2 minutes. Work in batches if necessary to get the leaves nicely charred. Transfer to a large bowl and set aside. Add 1 tablespoon oil to wok and return to heat until smoking. Add mushrooms and cook, stirring regularly, until lightly browned and tender-crisp, about 2 minutes. Add chives and cook, stirring, until lightly wilted, about 1 minute. Transfer to bowl with cabbage.

While mushrooms are cooking, combine soy sauce, vinegar, tahini, sugar, chili oil (with its sediment), and broad bean chili paste in a medium bowl. Set aside. Bring 1 quart of salted water to a simmer in a medium pot and keep hot.

To make the roasted chile oil, just toast a handful of whole Chinese chiles (or if you want, red pepper flakes) in a dry skillet until fragrant and ever-so-slightly smoking (about 30 seconds). Transfer them to a food processor with a cup of neutral oil, like canola, and whiz the whole thing up. Let it sit in a sealed container in the fridge for a week or so, and you're good to go. You can even top up the jar with more oil and toasted chiles every time you seem to be running low. Make some, have it on hand at all times, and it will revolutionize your mapo tofu, ramen, dumplings, stir-fries, and countless other dishes.