Lost in translation

Passport & Plate - La Zi Ji

China | Tuesday, March 3, 2015 | 1 photos

Ingredients
2 chicken breasts (or 4 thighs)

For the Marinade

2 teaspoons Shaoxing Wine (Rice wine)
1 teaspoon light soy sauce
1 teaspoon dark soy sauce
2 tablespoons potato flour

Other ingredients

Vegetable oil
Dried chillies – about one large bowl full (50-70g)
3 cloves of garlic sliced
2 tablespoons sliced ginger
1 tablespoon Sichuan peppercorns
3 spring onions
2 teaspoons sesame oil

 

How to prepare this recipe
Cut the chicken breasts or thighs into bite-sized portions (about 1.5-2cm cubed). If you’re using thighs it’s more authentic to chop them on the bone and leave the bone in. Mix the chicken with the marinade ingredients and set aside.

Using scissors, cut the chillies in half and gently shake them to get rid of as many of the seeds as possible.

Pour the vegetable oil into a pan or wok so that it is about 1 cm deep and heat to a high temperature.

Fry the chicken in batches until it is crispy and golden. Remove from the pan with a slotted spoon and drain on kitchen paper.

Once the chicken is cooked discard all but 4 tablespoons of the oil and set over a medium flame. Quickly add the garlic and ginger and stir a few times until they start to release their fragrance. Add the chillies and Sichuan peppercorns and continue to quickly fry for 20 seconds or so.

Return the chicken to the pan with spring onions and warm through.

Remove from the heat and stir in the sesame oil.

Serve with a smile on your face.

 

The story behind this recipe
In the year 2000 I was at a crossroads in my life. The career I had enjoyed for the previous 13 years had ended. Instead of worrying, I embraced the opportunity and looked for ways to combine my love of travel with the search for a new career. Opening up a business magazine one day I chanced upon an article about the rapid growth of the Chinese economy. I didn’t need any more convincing – China it was!

I tidied up my affairs in the UK and enrolled on a Chinese Language Course in Beijing. China at that time was not for the feint hearted and English was rarely understood. Luckily my language course would stand me in good stead, or so I thought.

The teaching methods at my University were traditional and methodical. The needs of foreign students were not readily appreciated. Although we needed to buy food to survive, we instead learnt the words for photocopier and secretary. The food module would be taught in the third term!

In survival mode I searched the dictionary for food words, copying a selection into my notebook. It was now time to hit the restaurants. Scanning the menu I recognised the Chinese character for ‘chicken’. This particular character looks a bit like a chicken – sort of. I ordered this chicken dish with rice - the symbol for which looks like a star – sort of. When my meal arrived I couldn’t have been more surprised.

I was presented with a bowl which seemingly consisted solely of blood red dried chillies. Using my chopsticks to move the chillies aside, I began to notice small chunks of chicken. I cautiously took a bite. Despite the abundance of chillies (which were not intended to be eaten), there was no raging heat – just a pleasant warmth and a tingling sensation on the tongue. The aroma of the dish was wonderfully floral and fragrant.

That first Chinese meal, LaZi Ji (chilli chicken), would become a firm favourite of mine. It also became a great conversation piece whenever it was served to my unsuspecting companions!