Does anyone but me remember the Szechwan/Hunan cooking craze of the late ’70’s and early ’80’s?
About the time boomers were emerging from their adolescent shells enough to pay attention to the world, a number cookbooks were published on the subject, inspired, in part by the success of Uncle Tai’s Hunan Yuan restaurant in New York City. The original Uncle Tai’s closed long ago, but the restaurant ignited the hot Asian food craze in America, and was responsible (at least for a time) for weaning us off of the bland, cornstarch-ridden, gloppy Cantonese food that had been innundating America for fifty years or so.
Being a slave to fashion in all the best ways, ELV dutifully worked his way through a few dozen recipes — and produced edible versions of one of the spiciest cuisines on earth. All that work was worthwhile (both in taste and experience) because twenty-seven years ago, we could compare our cooking to the real (or semi-real) thing…because back then there were dozens of small, Chinese restaurants in most big cities that featured the chile-infused cooking of southwest China.
Then pffft! All gone. Around twenty years ago, this trend towards creative, authentic (and spicier) Chinese restaurants all but vanished — leaving us with a bunch of the same old, same old, sweet and sour slop. We’ve heard this attributed to everything from restrictive immigration laws to the uneducated American palate, but regardless of the reason, it didn’t set well with lovers of the real thing.
Las Vegas now has three restaurants: Dong Ting Spring, Yun Nan Garden, and Emperor’s Garden Szechwan that provide a least small relief from this gastronomic malady.
And sometimes, as you’ll see from the tasty snaps, this sort of warm, tingly, back of the palate heat is just what the doctor ordered on a cold, December evening.
The shrimp with fish-Fragrant (garlic) sauce is a sweet/salty/hot/sour delight — containing btw, no fish, and the dumplings in chile oil are addictive. Emperor’s mu shu (chicken, beef, pork or vegetarian)is prepared properly and tableside, and the hot and sour soup (something of a litmus test of Szechwan cooking) is both. Dan Dan and various cold noodle dishes employ those freakishly compelling Sichuan peppercorns that numb your lips, and titillate your tongue. Other classics like ma po tofu and Mandarin fish soup are faithfully prepared and equally interesting to experienced chowhounders and novices alike.
And if the excellent noodles are a little too steamy for you, ELV suggests you buy one of these:
Click here for a nice overview of some of the flavors and cooking styles employed by Szechwan/Szechuan/Sichuan cuisine — courtesy of Emperor’s Web site. You just gotta love any place that boasts of hiring chefs “…that have complete knowledge of traditional Szechwan cooking….,” and states on its Web site: “Our waitstaff might not be the strongest English speakers, but because of bilingual necessity we only require everybody does their best to meet customer needs(sic).”
FYI: ELV has eaten here at least ten times over the years and has always found the service to be exceedingly friendly and preternaturally fast.
A meal for two with a mountain of food (4-5 dishes) will run you no more than $50, including tip.
EMPEROR’S GARDEN SZECHWAN
4215 West Spring Mountain Rd. Suite B 203
Las Vegas, NV 89102
702.889.6777