A Guh-reat but Really Easy Recipe For Kung Pao Chicken

I’ve had a standard stir-fry recipe for many years that can fit either chicken or beef depending on the stock/broth used and other variations. I don’t think lemon juice goes with beef, for instance, so I substitute sherry. It’s served me well, but recently I’ve become interested in developing a good homemade version of kung pao chicken. When we lived in Falls Church, VA, we ate a number of times at the Peking Gourmet Inn, a restaurant less than a mile from us that was a favorite of many celebrities, including the George W. Bushes. The walls are lined with many framed and signed photos. Gideon especially loved their kung pao chicken, saying that it wasn’t like any other version he’d ever tried. I loved their egg rolls, and sometimes for lunch I’d call in a takeout order (with extra garlic sauce), swing by and pick it up, and consume the two scrumptious, golden, packed-with-filling rolls in about five nanoseconds. Heaven! (Well, nearly.) In homage to that memory I made some egg rolls not too long ago that weren’t bad, although I didn’t deep fry them. Too messy! Then I decided to make a run at the kung pao. While the end result wasn’t really much like the PGI version, I have to say that the results were pretty gratifying. You know you have a hit on your hands when people keep taking seconds . . . and thirds. There was a tiny portion left. (Which I ate for lunch today, and it was just as good as freshly made!)

I won’t get too deep in the weeds about the origin of the title for the dish; I thought it would refer to the spiciness in some way, but it’s actually named for a Chinese official in the Sichuan province and means “palace guardian.” It’s sad but true that many ethnic dishes and not just Chinese ones get remade when they migrate to the US, especially in the area of sweetness. My son likes the PGI version so much in part because it isn’t sweet at all. (He also likes it because it has hardly any sauce–how did I raise such a child?) My goal was to get the sweetness level down substantially and keep it spicy without endangering the lives of those around our dinner table who can’t tolerate too much heat. I think I succeeded.

I’ve consulted quite a few recipes for this, with the latest one being from the food blog HalfBakedHarvest. I incorporated some of her ideas, but here’s what I changed:

1. I didn’t use hoisin sauce. There’s no need for this ingredient that I can see, unless you’re striving for absolute authenticity. The real version is made with fermented soybean paste, which I’m sure adds a unique note, but most recipes call for very little. The HBH one calls for only a tablespoon. I fail to see how much of a difference it makes. (There are many recipes out there for a homemade hoisin, which are almost universally made with peanut butter. Call me skeptical, but I don’t think peanut butter is the same thing at all.)
2. I didn’t add any honey or sugar.
3. I didn’t make it with all the hot/spicy ingredients called for. Honestly! I thought the end result for my version was plenty spicy, and that was without red pepper flakes or Sichuan peppers and without fresh red chili peppers, and with only one generous teaspoon of chili-garlic paste/sauce. There wasn’t much of the paste left in the jar and I almost tossed it all in–I was very glad, when I tasted it, that I’d been restrained. The HBH recipe calls for 1-2 teaspoons of Sichuan pepper or red pepper flakes. That amount is just crazy. I also get a little irritated with recipes that call for any specific chili peppers other than poblanos or jalapenos. Maybe my regular grocery store carries the Fresno chilis that were specified, but I don’t recall seeing them.
4. I did use what I now consider to be a great ingredient for Chinese food: balsamic vinegar, which HBH called for. I don’t know how many other KP recipes do so. It’s commonly available and a good substitute for the authentic item, which is Chinese black vinegar.  Also, cheap balsamic (the only kind I buy) often has added sugar. I will say, though, that I just took a look at the label of the huge bottle I bought recently at Costco and it doesn’t have that. I expected to see at least “caramel flavor” or some such, but it’s not there. In fact, it seems to be pretty much the real thing. Huh. So there it is. Yet another reason to have a Costco membership!
5. I’ve simplified the measurements, calling for equal amounts of three of the four main liquid ingredients: sherry, chicken stock, and soy sauce. I have a little less of the vinegar, but you can, of course, always adjust to your personal taste.. Note the nice easy way I tell you to mix up the sauce in the recipe below.  Oh, and a side note here: Don’t buy low-salt soy sauce. In fact, make it a principle that you will never buy anything that touts itself as low-salt or low-fat. Those labels always mean that they’ve monkeyed around with the original in some way. (Note: I later revised this recipe and cut down a little on the vinegar, but it’s still very easy to measure. See my note in the recipe on this technique.)
6. I also made sure to include toasted sesame oil, a great, strong-flavored ingredient that’s easily available at the regular grocery store. You don’t use much, but, unlike the hoisin sauce, I think it does make a real difference. Be sure you’re getting the toasted variety, which shouldn’t be difficult if you’re buying it in the Asian foods aisle, as it should say so clearly and will be dark in color. It can be somewhat expensive, but a small bottle will last you a long time. Keep it in the fridge.

Okay–here goes. I plan to make this again in the near future but with cubed pork, as I have some frozen pork loin roast that I’d like to use up. But this is my version for now. You’ll note that I have some options for you to incorporate as you wish.

Well! This turned out to be a little longer of a recipe than I had thought it would be. Don’t let that scare you off, though. I per-omise you that it’ll be really tasty. I’ll report back on the pork version when I make that.