·5/22/2026
from
Chongqing Spicy Fried Chicken
**Chongqing Spicy Fried Chicken** *(重庆辣子鸡)*
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**Ingredients**
Chicken — bone-in, chopped into small pieces, about three centimeters each
Dark soy sauce — enough to coat, for color
Fresh ginger — sliced thin, a few pieces
Garlic — smashed, skin left on
Dried red Sichuan chilies (朝天椒) — whole, a pile that looks like way too much
Whole Sichuan peppercorns (花椒) — a palmful
Coarse salt
Sesame seeds — a small handful at the end
High-heat cooking oil
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**How it's made**
The chicken goes into a bowl with soy sauce, salt, ginger, and garlic. You press it all together with your hands and let it sit. The pieces come out dark and glossy, each one coated.
The wok goes over high fire. Oil heats until it shimmers. The chicken pieces go in, a few at a time — each one hits the oil and the foam climbs up around it. You hold them there until the outside is set and golden, then turn them. The skin crisps. The bones show at the edges. You pull them out when they're done and set them aside.
The oil gets drained down to a film. The dried chilies and peppercorns go in whole — the moment they hit the hot metal they jump and spit, a thick cloud of spiced smoke rises fast. You stir them hard and quick. The kitchen fills. The chilies darken at the edges, from red to deep burgundy.
The chicken goes back in. Everything gets tossed together over the flame — the wok tilts, the pile tumbles, golden pieces and dark red chilies cascading together. A few sesame seeds scattered over the top.
Then it comes off the heat.
The finished dish is a deep red mass in the wok. Mostly chili. If you look closely you can find the chicken buried within — golden pieces visible between the dark folds of dried pepper. You dig with chopsticks to pull a piece out. The outside is crispy. The inside is still tender. The heat comes in stages: first sharp, then deep, then the slow numbness from the pepper settling at the back of the jaw.
The chilies are not really meant to be eaten. They are there to do something to the chicken, and they do it completely.
---
**Ingredients**
Chicken — bone-in, chopped into small pieces, about three centimeters each
Dark soy sauce — enough to coat, for color
Fresh ginger — sliced thin, a few pieces
Garlic — smashed, skin left on
Dried red Sichuan chilies (朝天椒) — whole, a pile that looks like way too much
Whole Sichuan peppercorns (花椒) — a palmful
Coarse salt
Sesame seeds — a small handful at the end
High-heat cooking oil
---
**How it's made**
The chicken goes into a bowl with soy sauce, salt, ginger, and garlic. You press it all together with your hands and let it sit. The pieces come out dark and glossy, each one coated.
The wok goes over high fire. Oil heats until it shimmers. The chicken pieces go in, a few at a time — each one hits the oil and the foam climbs up around it. You hold them there until the outside is set and golden, then turn them. The skin crisps. The bones show at the edges. You pull them out when they're done and set them aside.
The oil gets drained down to a film. The dried chilies and peppercorns go in whole — the moment they hit the hot metal they jump and spit, a thick cloud of spiced smoke rises fast. You stir them hard and quick. The kitchen fills. The chilies darken at the edges, from red to deep burgundy.
The chicken goes back in. Everything gets tossed together over the flame — the wok tilts, the pile tumbles, golden pieces and dark red chilies cascading together. A few sesame seeds scattered over the top.
Then it comes off the heat.
The finished dish is a deep red mass in the wok. Mostly chili. If you look closely you can find the chicken buried within — golden pieces visible between the dark folds of dried pepper. You dig with chopsticks to pull a piece out. The outside is crispy. The inside is still tender. The heat comes in stages: first sharp, then deep, then the slow numbness from the pepper settling at the back of the jaw.
The chilies are not really meant to be eaten. They are there to do something to the chicken, and they do it completely.