While mushrooms are cooking, combine soy sauce, vinegar, tahini, sugar, chili oil (with its sediment), and broad bean chili paste in a medium bowl. Set aside. Bring 1 quart of salted water to a simmer in a medium pot and keep hot.
Now, you're just ten minutes away from dinner. Flash stir fry the veggies in a skillet. Then add freshly grated garlic and ginger and pre-cooked lo mein noodles. Once the garlic and ginger are fragrant and the noodles and veggies have become tangled together, just add soy sauce. Then, get your chopsticks ready, and dig in.
Remember that article Mark Bittman wrote for the New York Times a few years ago recommending that we flip the script on pasta, and serve it with a ton more sauce? I like to think of this dish in a similar way, though instead of extra sauce, it's extra veggies. While stir-fried lo mein is typically noodles with some vegetables for flavor and color, this version comes out with veggies and noodles in almost equal proportions. That means it's packed with more flavor, in this case cabbage charred until sweet, along with meaty shiitake mushrooms, and big stalks of chives.
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.
In a wok or large cast iron skillet, heat 1 tablespoon (15ml) neutral oil over medium-high heat until shimmering. Add ginger, garlic, and white scallion pieces and stir-fry for 30 seconds. Increase heat to high and add purple cabbage, Chinese broccoli (or Napa cabbage), and carrots. Cook, stirring and tossing, until vegetables are charred in spots and just softened, 3 to 5 minutes. Transfer to a plate.
Making the sauce for dan dan noodles is exceedingly simple once you've got the basic ingredients in your pantry. It's just a matter of mixing them in the right proportions. Soy sauce forms the base, while Chinkiang black vinegar lends its characteristic acidity—it has a sweet, almost balsamic vinegar-esque aroma to it, though not quite as syrupy as that. Fermented broad bean chili paste comes in many forms throughout China or can be purchased online. Chili oil is a given, and while it's best (and remarkably easy!) to make at home, there are a number of good options available at any decent Chinese market. Look for the kind which has actual chile, garlic, and ginger debris in the bottom of the jar, not the completely clear kind you see in easy-pour bottles. That debris is where the magic is at.
One of the problems with ordering dan dan noodles at a Chinese restaurant is that you never know exactly what you'll get. Are they gonna deliver the hardcore Sichuan version swimming in red-hot chile oil and laced with pickled zha cai (mustard root) and mouth-numbing Sichuan peppercorns? Or can you expect the equally delicious but totally different Chinese-American version with more pork, a vinegary soy-based sauce, perhaps some greens, and a sprinkling of peanuts?
Actually, I ended up liking this high-veg world noodle dishes|https://noodleinsight.com/ idea so much that maybe next time I'll take it to the extreme. I can read the Cook's Illustrated-style headline now: "The Best Chinese Noodles: The Secret is No Noodles!"
The prototypical street food, dan dan noodles are an ultra-simple dish of cold or warm noodles placed in a bowl with a ladleful of highly seasoned sauce poured on top. Flavored with minced pork, preserved pickled mustard, black vinegar, fermented broad beans, garlic, and plenty of chili oil, the dish is eaten by swirling the slick noodles through the oily sauce, picking up bits of meat and pickles as they go.
"When pairing with Chinese food, you're looking for wines that are spicy, soft, and on the richer side. Chinese food is a generous cuisine, bringing expressive and muscular wines is important. For Mapo tofu, you're looking for spice and energy to match the dish. Red wines from the Douro in Portugal would play well with this dish. Mushu pork has a crunchy and fresh tone. Cabernet Francs from the Loire Valley, Cote de Beaune Reds, and Austrian Blaufrankisch would be a good fit, offering bright fruit and a fresh nature. Peking duck needs some richness and sweetness. Try rich and bold California Cabernets or Grenaches from the Languedoc Roussillon. Experience this dish with a mature Maury (fortified wine from Roussillon)—a great combination."— Adrien Falcon, Bouley (NYC)
"Ma po tofu is a lot of fun with a demi-sec wine from Alsace, like Sylvaner, or a bigger Pinot Gris. These wines have a mellow sweetness and bright acidity. For mushu pork, I think pairing with Riesling or a dry Tokay goes well; Furmint has a lot to offer to all the ingredients from this dish and we don’t play a lot with Hungarian wines, but there is a lot of great potential here. For the Pièce de résistance, peking duck? Well, you must break this down to white, red, or what the person in front of you likes better. If your dining companion likes white better, go with Loire Chenin Blanc. For red, I would go with Languedoc—a medium to bigger body, jam-plummy wine. Corbieres any one?"— Gerardo Acevedo-Vanni, Bocanova (Oakland CA)
