"The one wine in the world that tastes good with most Asian food: German Riesling. If you have spice, there’s no better foil than a little bit of sugar. (I try to match the sugar with the spice—if you like it 4-star, get thee to an Auslese. The rest of us reasonable 2 star people will enjoy our Kabinett and Spatlese.) If you have sweeter dishes, try to get a Riesling that is just a tad sweeter than the dish in question. Even if the preparations are a bit simpler, there is often a salt component enhancing flavors. Generally stated, sweeter wines will cancel out the perception of salt without negating its positive effect on a dish. Consequently, the salt will also diminish the perception of sweetness in the wine, making everything just plain taste better. And if someone at the table says something snarky about sweet Rieslings, just flip it and order a Prosecco or slightly sweet Vouvray or Gewürztraminer—anything on the 'helpful side of dry'."— Chris Horn, Purple Cafe (Bellevue/Seattle)

Tailgating staple, vegan-style, with Vegetarian Bean Chili served on top of fritos with Pickled Red Onions , jalapeños, and avocado. A sprinkle of fresh cilantro, a scattering of sliced scallions, and a squeeze of lime all add freshness.

To make the roasted chile oil, just toast a handful of whole Chinese chiles (or if you want, red pepper flakes) in a dry skillet until fragrant and ever-so-slightly smoking (about 30 seconds). Transfer them to a food processor with a cup of neutral oil, like canola, and whiz the whole thing up. Let it sit in a sealed container in the fridge for a week or so, and you're good to go. You can even top up the jar with more oil and toasted chiles every time you seem to be running low. Make some, have it on hand at all times, and it will revolutionize your mapo tofu, ramen, dumplings, stir-fries, and countless other dishes.

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.

"Riesling with some fruitiness and a bit of age pairs nicely with heavy and complexly spiced Chinese sauces. Riesling from older vintages can be hard to come by at an everyday wine store, but they do make appearances from time to time. Stock up when you see a nice Riesling with age and save it for a rainy Chinese takeout day! I did this with a Riesling Spatlese from Mosel, Germany 1997 for less than $20 that I found at my neighborhood wine store and enjoyed it with a few savory, dark-sauced Chinese dishes—the flavors balanced each other perfectly. Additional choices from the other side of the Rhine River are Alsatian Pinot Gris, Muscat, Riesling and Gewurztraminer—these all contain a lot of complex spice notes, and occasionally a touch of residual sugar, which allow them to work with Chinese food."— Caleb Ganzer, Eleven Madison Park (NYC)

Return pot of water to a hard boil and add noodles. Cook, stirring regularly to prevent noodles from sticking to each other or the bottom, until barely cooked click through the next website page with a springy bite, about 4 minutes. Drain, reserving 3/4 cup of cooking liquid. Add cooking liquid to bowl with sauce and stir to combine.

Cumin lamb falls into a wholly different category, however. Given that it's slightly rich, has that wonderful cumin spice yet remains quasi-delicate on the palate, there are countless great pairings for this dish. Anything from S. Rhone/Languedoc stuff, to Cornas, to Loire Cab Franc, to Sangiovese, to Nebbiolo, to Burgundy... there are so many choices. Favorites of mine include the Cab Francs from Baudry (A bargain!), Montevertine "Pian de Ciampolo" from Tuscany, older Bordeaux (mostly left bank or Pomerol) and also the wines of Leon Barral. The Barral wines are magic."— Collin Casey, Namu Gaji (San Francisco)

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.

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?