Perhaps the biggest key to making excellent dan dan noodles is to make your own roasted chile oil. When done right, it gets a rich, fruity, smoky flavor that none of the store-bought stuff can touch. It's really quite simple. Toasted Sichuan peppercorns have a sweet, citrus-like aroma with a mouth-numbing quality, while roasted chile oil brings on the heat.

This is a light, virtuous version of takeout lo mein that starts with a simple rainbow of vegetables: carrots, snow peas, Napa cabbage, shiitake mushrooms, and green onions. You can cut these up however you want (you can even buy shredded carrots for ease), but in my version I use a vegetable peeler to cut strips of the carrots, cut the snow peas into matchsticks by hand (the only fiddly part—you could just halve them), and shred up the cabbage, mushrooms, and green onions.

There are some cravings that only that iconic white box of Chinese-American takeout will satisfy. We're no strangers to the stuff—many's the night we've spent in front of the TV, inhaling a truly shocking amount of beef with broccoli and fried rice. But, as much as we love the ease and convenience of calling in our favorite dishes from the neighborhood spot—ideally while riding the train on the way home, so the food is five minutes away once we walk in the door—homemade versions of takeout standbys are not only possible but often tastier than the originals they copy.

One of the secrets to making a restaurant-style stir-fry is water-velveting —marinating meat with egg white, wine, and cornstarch, then blanching it, allows it to achieve an almost unnatural level of silkiness. This recipe shows off the technique, pairing water-velveted chicken with savory oyster sauce and both fresh and rehydrated dried mushrooms.

Heftier and chewier than chow mein, lo mein noodles are rarely accompanied by more than tiny bits of vegetables and meat when served takeout-style; what starts out delicious can wind up monotonous by the last bite. These stir-fried lo mein noodles get an injection of brightness from a mixture of crisp purple and Napa cabbage and julienned carrots. We soak the slivers of pork in baking soda before browning them, lending the meat a tender and juicy texture.

While the most traditional versions don't include a sesame product, I've recently taken to adding a touch of tahini to my sauce, after having tasted it in Chichi's vermicelli with chili oil recipe. Not enough to bring a distinct sesame flavor to the dish, but just enough to lightly bind the sauce and add a touch of creaminess to help it cling to the noodles a little bit better.

This homestyle Cantonese dish pairs scrambled eggs and shrimp with ginger, garlic, and Chinese chives—a classic flavor base in Chinese cooking. Brining the shrimp with baking soda helps keep them plump and tender. Not in the mood for shrimp? You could easily make the dish with roast pork, or no meat at all.

The second great thing about making dan dan noodles—it's an exceedingly simple dish to make. Once you've put together your roasted chile vinaigrette (which holds for months in the fridge, by the way), it's just a matter of cooking your noodles, frying your chopped pork, global Noodle recipes|https://noodleinsight.com/ and throwing everything together.

The answer came when I was reading through Fucshia Dunlop's books, in which she mentions that in Northern China, the starchy water leftover from boiling noodles is often drunk like a silky soup or added to sauces to thicken them. It's exactly the same way an Italian cook will save some pasta water to add to their sauce—the extra dissolved starch thickens the sauce, binding it and helping it cling better to the noodles.

The pork is the odd man out in the traditional recipe. Fortunately, much like with the beef in Sichuan mapo tofu, the pork is not the star player of the dish. Its role is mainly textural, adding a bit of meaty, bouncy chew that clings to the slippery noodles as you slurp them up. Having already addressed an identical issue when finding a suitable replacement for ground beef in my vegan mapo tofu recipe, I knew what I had to do here: I chopped up a bunch of mushrooms in a food processor, then employed the Chinese technique of dry-frying—cooking them slowly in oil—until they were mostly dehydrated, lightly shriveled, and deeply browned. The resulting little nuggets have great texture and a flavor that is not really pork-like, but savory and rich in its own unique way.

Heat 1 teaspoon oil in a wide nonstick skillet over high heat until shimmering. Add mushrooms and cabbage and season lightly with salt. Cook, stirring and tossing frequently, until barely cooked through but still bright, about 3 minutes. Transfer to a medium bowl. Add 1 more teaspoon oil to wok and return to high heat until lightly smoking. Add carrot and snow peas and season lightly with salt. Cook, stirring and tossing frequently, until barely cooked through but still bright, about 3 minutes. Transfer to bowl with mushrooms and cabbage.