Chinese Chicken Crack
At my third dotcom, I met a wicked smart dude named Ross who told tale of a fantastical Chinese-esque dish he'd invented that was so addictively good, he named it Chicken Crack. But I lied, it doesn't grant you super powers. That's Chicken Heroin.
Ingredients
- boneless skinless chicken thighs - 3 lbs
- green beans - 1 lbs
- ginger - 3 D-batteries-worth
- garlic - 4 giant cloves
- soy sauce - 2 splashes
- Lee Kum Lee premium oyster sauce - 9 oz
- vegetable oil - 3 tbsp
- chili oil - 2 splashes
- jasmine rice - optional
- Sriracha - optional
Instructions
- Go buy a giant wok because this recipe is intended for days-worth of leftovers.
- Wash green beans and cut into halves or thirds.
- Mince four large cloves of garlic. Or more, that's cool, too.
- Shave the skin off the ginger and discard. Then cut into "toothpicks" approximately the same length as the green bean segments.
- Cut chicken thighs into bite sized pieces.
- If you opted in for jasmine rice, now is a reasonable time to get that going.
- Pour three tablespoons of vegetable oil and two large splashes of chili oil into the wok and heat on high.
- Add garlic and ginger.
- In 30 seconds or when you start to become concerned that the garlic will burn, add chicken.
- Add two conservative splashes of soy sauce.
- Stir. As in 'stir fry'.
- Add half of a nine ounce bottle of Lee Lum Kee premium oyster sauce. Why so brand-specific? 20 years ago my kung fu teacher told me never to trust any other brand. Oh, and also to use my Iron Fist to defend K'un-Lun with my life. (Okay, only one of those two statements is true.)
- Stir more. Not as in Stir of Echoes.
- When the chicken is nearly cooked through, add the green beans and the remaining oyster sauce.
- Stir, as if your name were Stir Mix-a-lot.
- When the chicken is fully cooked, the ginger is soft, and the green beans have turned a rich green (but are still a bit crisp), you're done.
- Serve over a bowl of steaming hot jasmine rice.
- Drizzle some Sriracha over the top.
- Eat.
- Discover that your addiction to the chicken crack has somehow granted you super powers a la Cloak & Dagger (assuming they got their powers the same way as Cloak & Dagger). Now that I think about it, this is a terrible analogy. Oh well, too late to turn back now because the recipe is done.
In the context of this article, the first thing you should know about me is that I’m of Chinese descent. The second thing you should know is that I’m incredibly skeptical of any highly rated Chinese restaurants on Yelp, because an alarming number of those positive reviews inevitably mention that “The crab rangoon was so good!” Depending on who you ask, crab rangoon was likely something that originated somewhere in Hawaii or San Francisco in the 50s. NOT China.
(That reminds me, you should go watch The Search for General Tso.)
That’s said, I have to admit I like an occasional rangoon. And I definitely appreciate food that tastes good. Which brings me to today’s recipe. A recipe born of Chinese influence, but created and mastered by an incredibly smart and lovely human who happens to be white.
This is my rendition of Ross’s Chinese Chicken Crack.
Add to Favourites
