Chiles, fresh or dried, sweet or killer-hot, have been central to my food career for more than 25 years. I didn't fully realize how the kick and sass of spice permeates my home life until recently. Just for fun, I counted all the containers of chile-spiked condiments in my refrigerator. More than 10 _ everything from tubs of Korean gochujang to sliced jalapenos, Mexican chipotle paste and pepperoncini.
The spice drawer continues the story with more than 17 different options for upping the ante on home-cooked or takeout dinners. The freezer boasts bags of roasted green and red chiles from New Mexico, habaneros from the neighbor's garden, and all manner of jalapeno, serrano and finger peppers from our market days.
Curious, no Sriracha in sight. I prefer less sweet, less vinegary, more savory condiments and hot sauces. Indonesian sambal oelek, North African harissa and Mexican salsa macha, for example.
Tops on my current heat list: spicy chile crisp. This not-too-hot combination _ red chile flakes, toasted shallots, oil, Sichuan pepper and a touch of sugar _ tastes so good I eat it on a spoon.
For the family, I employ the deep red, chunky, crispy condiment on omelets, in stir-fries and over vegetables. For snacks, we spread it over rice cakes, crackers and toasted bread by itself or with cream cheese or peanut butter. A dollop on salad, in chicken soup and over buttered noodles adds zest to the mundane. There's internet proof that some folks like it on ice cream.
Serious Eats has an excellent homemade version of spicy chile crisp. Though time-consuming to prepare, the recipe makes plenty, about 4 cups. Technically, it keeps refrigerated for several weeks, but the flavor proves so addictive that I have to hide it from the snack king I married, lest it be gone in a few days.
Mostly, I order imported spicy chile crisp online; you also can find it in many Asian markets. Imported from China, the original Lao Gan Ma brand has such excellent flavor and crunch that it's grown into quite the foodie thing. Note that it contains the umami punch of monosodium glutamate, an ingredient some prefer to avoid.
Trader Joe's sells an MSG-free version called Chile Onion Crunch; it works well here, but does not have near the complexity of flavor as the Lao Gan Ma or the homemade. Crunch Dynasty, of Virginia, sells pouches of a hot topping with a similar flavor, sans oil; it's yummy on rice bowls and over steamed vegetables.
Marinate chicken thighs (on the bone with skin) with the oily version and then roast for an easy way to break up chicken monotony. Or, toss diced chicken thighs with the condiment before braising them with bead molasses, fish sauce and shallots. Or, substitute the fish sauce with soy mixed with unsweetened rice vinegar, if you prefer. Bead molasses is available in the Asian section of most large supermarkets; date syrup (made from medjool dates) makes a fine substitute, as do light molasses or dark corn syrup. Served with green beans and piles of rice noodles or cooked rice, this umami-packed, slightly hot dish proves worthy of the effort.
Chicken soup makes the perfect winter warmup _ especially when red chile garnishes the bowl. I love to spend a Sunday afternoon making Eileen Yin-Fei Lo's wonton and whole chicken soup from her 2009 classic book "Mastering the Art of Chinese Cooking." For weeknight meals, I simply enrich store-bought chicken broth with chicken breasts, ginger, dates and vegetables, then add baby bok choy and frozen wontons. Oh, and plenty of spicy chile crisp. Everything feels warm now.
