Yunnan Grandma's Potatoes

Yes, these are grandma's potatoes, but they're not your grandma's potatoes, unless you happen to be from Yunnan Province. Georgia Freedman tells us why we shouldn't underestimate these taters. 

"It took me almost a year and a half of living in Kunming, Yunnan, to try one of the city’s most ubiquitous dishes: grandma’s potatoes (lǎonǎi yángyù, 老奶洋芋)," she writes. "The descriptions I heard made the dish sound suspiciously like Western mashed potatoes. I thought that perhaps the dish was something that had been specifically created to cater to expats and backpackers. And I’d learned early in my travels around China that the dishes created to cater to travelers were almost never the best options on the menu. 

"I was so wary of the dish that it wasn’t until pretty late in my two-year stay that I finally gave in and decided to see what all the fuss was about. With my first bite, I realized that I’d been missing out. The potatoes were delicious. Instead of the bland mash that I’d anticipated, they were a riot of flavors: There were bright pickles, aromatic chives, roasty slices of garlic, and fiery dried chilies all mixed into the potatoes, their flavors melding with the starch to create something both comforting and delightful. The oils these ingredients were cooked in also permeated through the starchy bits, making the whole thing feel rich and unctuous. Taken all together, the laonai yangyu was good enough that I could have made a meal out of  it on its own, but it also worked perfectly as a foil for the other meats and vegetables on the table. It was, in short, a pretty perfect food."

Georgia used our new tiao zi jiao for this recipe, saying their almost fruity flavor and punch of heat add a really nice note.
 

Xinjiang Big Plate Chicken

Several years ago our friend Sarah Ting-Ting Hou contributed this recipe for da pan ji, or big plate chicken, and I've recently updated it and added new photos as we've introduced products to the store that take this beloved Xinjiang dish to a whole other level.

But first I have to tell you how much our family loves this dish. We've eaten it repeatedly for years, and I hadn't really thought about why until recently. After being in China and eating (usually spicy) Chinese food morning, noon and night for a few weeks, like I did last month, there comes a point when I start to crave Western food. But rather than hunt down a KFC or a Subway, my habit is to head straight to a nearby Xibei restaurant, which serves food from Xinjiang and other parts of China's Northwest, and order a big old plate of big plate chicken. 

Even though di pan ji is a Chinese dish, it totally satisfies the Western food craving: It's chicken stew with bell peppers and potatoes served on a bed of wide wheat noodles, after all! It tastes of cumin and those tomatoey Xinjiang chilies, with Sichuan pepper and doubanjiang bringing subtle depth without stealing the show. I think it's the stewed potatoes that make it feel like home for me. In any case, it's the ultimate East meets West comfort food, pleasing palates across cultures and eras. 
 

Sichuan Tangy Stir-Fried Cabbage

In most stir-fries, you can toss in whatever chili moves you, especially if you are using it whole, as Xueci Cheng does in this recipe for vinegar-stir-fried napa cabbage 醋熘白菜 (cùliū báicài). This home-cooking classic is enjoyed across China, but in Sichuan, as Xueci explains, it takes on a bolder flavor profile: 

"Made with either napa or green cabbage, it’s infused with Sichuan pepper and dried chili. These aromatics are also fried until deep brown, giving the dish a subtle scorched chili flavor known as húlà wèi (糊辣味)—a hallmark of many Sichuan stir-fries, including gong bao (kung pao) chicken."