The Do’s and Don’ts of Kung Pao

When I first published this recipe for gongbao (kung pao) chicken, in May 2016, The Mala Market blog had just turned two years old. Now that it’s 12 years old, the recipe has received a thorough refresh, with more instructions and photos and a slightly altered recipe.

The immediate goal when I started this blog was to be a better mom to my immigrant daughter by being a better Sichuan home cook. I did it in blog form because I thought that if I committed publicly I’d be far more likely to stick with it. This particular recipe was No. 27 in my self-styled “Chengdu Challenge.”

And it worked! Two years on, I was a much better Chinese cook and had a significantly happier Chinese daughter. Fongchong still refused to eat traditional American food, but her home, at least, tasted like China.

Fast forward a decade, and we still eat Sichuan dishes at home all the time, but not because that’s all my grown daughter will eat, but because we love them now as much as we did then. Dishes as unique and satisfying as gongbao chicken (gōng bǎo jī dīng, 宫保鸡丁)—chicken cubes and roasty nuts in a sweet-and-sourish sauce with a mild kick of chilies and Sichuan pepper—never get old!

Better known outside China as kung pao chicken, gongbao jiding is the classic representative of lìzhī wèi (荔枝味), or litchi flavor profile, one of Sichuan’s 20+ complex flavor combinations, known as fùhé wèi (复合味). Litchi wei does not incorporate litchi fruit but is described as “resembling litchi, with a well-balanced sweet-and-sour taste” in the Encyclopedia of Sichuan Cuisine. It should be slightly sour and slightly sweet and well-balanced between the two. This is one of the few famous Sichuan dishes that is somewhat sweet, but don’t overdo it. I’ve had many overly sweet gongbao dishes, including in Sichuan, but it’s really best when the two complement each other and the dish remains slightly tart.

The surprise in this litchi flavor is the scorched chilies and Sichuan peppercorns that give it an edge and a buzz. Gongbao jiding is one of many well-known dishes that are a combination of two Sichuan fuhe wei, in this case litzi wei and hula wei (húlà wèi, 糊辣味), or scorched chili flavor.

Named after a Qing Dynasty Sichuan governor who had a previous honorific title of Palace Guardian, or Gongbao, gongbao jiding was known during the Cultural Revolution as hula jiding (scorched chili chicken cubes), according to Fuchsia Dunlop in The Food of Sichuan. Rather than ban a dish with imperial connotations—and be deprived of gongbao chicken—the Red Guards simply renamed it!

The Must-Have Ingredients for Gongbao Chicken

Sichuan’s litchi flavor is made from black vinegar and sugar, along with salt. I like a robust but slightly sweet black vinegar like Zhenjiang or Shanxi, though Sichuan’s more herbal and savory Baoning vinegar is also great. The hula flavor is made by toasting dried chilies and Sichuan pepper in oil—preferably Sichuan’s toasty and highly aromatic caiziyou.

Another major flavor in gongbao chicken is nuts, usually peanuts—and they should be treated as the indispensable ingredient they are. I learned a tip long ago from cooking with my friend Chef Qing Qing in Chengdu that I think makes all the difference: The first and most important step in the recipe is to start with raw peanuts, or cashews, and fry them yourself until golden brown. It transforms the dish, because freshly cooked nuts taste more fresh, more toasty, more nutty—and don’t taste like you’ve tossed your freebie airplane snack into your otherwise lovingly constructed dish.

Note that while peanuts are the most common nut for the dish, I prefer cashews—fried the exact same way!—because I love the contrast of the rich, buttery nut with the slightly acidic sauce. It’s the luxury version of gongbao.

Another Qing Qing tip: Cut the jiding, or chicken cubes, in small dice. They should be similar in size to the nuts and chili peppers, not large and chunky. Larger pieces take longer to stir-fry and have less sauce per bite, affecting both texture and taste.

How to Stir-Fry Gongbao Jiding

Traditionally, this dish is a xiaochao, or small stir-fry, meaning the whole thing is made in one go in the wok, with no pre-cooking of ingredients required. However, as mentioned above, pre-cooking the nuts is definitely worth the extra step. I’ve also found that even when the chicken pieces are quite small, it is difficult to get the chicken cooked without overcooking the other ingredients. It’s actually easier and more foolproof to cook and remove the chicken before starting the final stir-fry.

Either way, the stir-fry begins with the “hula flavor” of the dish, by stir-frying dried chilies and Sichuan peppercorns in oil until they are fragrant, toasty and browned (not burned!). Toasting them in Sichuan’s roasted rapeseed oil (caiziyou) makes for a bitter, smoky base that adds complexity to the sweet and sour flavors. A generous portion of minced garlic and ginger do the same.

Though, like all Americans, I’m guilty of trying to make any dish into a one-pot meal, I never add extraneous ingredients like bell peppers and celery to this dish, as some cooks do. Scallions are sufficient. But if you want to add other vegetables, just reduce the chicken proportionally.

As I’ve previously discussed, you can gongbao many things—my take on gongbao lotus root is here. You can also substitute shrimp to delicious effect. Just remember that different ingredients and amounts of ingredients might necessitate different amounts of sauce, which you can judge as you are adding it in at the end. There shouldn’t be pools of sauce on the plate—the cornstarch thickens the sauce to cling to the ingredients—but you also don’t want to be stingy with this genius concoction.

For more classic recipes with tips and tricks from real-deal mainland chefs, see posts like my Chengdu Stir-Fried Rice or The Queen of Mapo Doufu Recipes (Mapo Tofu) and Chongqing Chicken Like It’s Made in Chongqing.