It's come to my attention that, even though I was a cook for years, I've never actually written a post here yet about food. How absurd! Over the past few months, I've been adding more spice to my meals. Learning the recipes has been so enjoyable—cracking Sichuan peppercorns into a dry, hot wok, filling the air with scents of citrus peel and electricity. Then, sizzling the doubanjiang (fermented broad bean paste) in toasted sesame oil. Silken tofu slides in as pale moons, poaching as the oil starts to blush red. You finish with hand-crinkled chili threads and a glug of chili oil infused with star anise and cinnamon. The heat of Mapo Tofu hits twice. The upfront hit of fried chiles, and then the numbing buzz-buzz tingle dancing on your lips long after the bowl is empty. A kiss you can't stop remembering. There are a lot of recipes I could describe like this I've been trying out. Like Jalapeño & Habanero Corn Chowder, Misir Wot (Berbere-Spiced Red Lentil Stew), or Volcán al Pastor. But…
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