We were hanging out at a friend’s house playing board games when hunger struck–painful and relentless, as always. Since it was already nearing the wee hours of the morning, she jumped up to take a peek at her pantry and found a bag of Sichuan peanuts from the local Asian market.

I was wary at first–I’m a fan of heat, but the word “Sichuan” (or Szechuan) has always been a red flag. I can handle spicy, but can I handle Sichuan spicy? As soon as I took my first bite, however, all of my fears dissipated and were replaced by my need to eat the entire bag. My tongue and then my entire mouth went numb, and I was still as happy as a clam. I devoured the peanuts dutifully, as if they were an additional objective to winning the game.

Sichuan flavors are bright, unapologetic and brash–the dishes are almost always spicy, but it would be insulting to say that Sichuan cuisine is a one-trick pony that only relies on heat to convey its flavor. The red oil that is so easily recognized in many Sichuan dishes is a rich mixture of cardamom, star anise, five spice and Sichuan peppercorn–as well as the tried-and-true aromatics of garlic and ginger. The Sichuan peppercorn is the reason that your mouth numbs and tingles after a few bites–hence its literally translated name “prickly ash”.

James and I found the bag of Sichuan peanuts at the store shortly afterward, but I wanted to try making it on my own–and I think I’ve found a worthy home-made alternative to the store brand, minus the inevitable MSG and additives that are usually included in most snack foods. I’ve even added orange peel, which brightens the flavor of the peanuts and adds a sharp, almost floral contrast to the spiciness of the peppercorns.

I’ve made this dish twice now, and I need to emphasize the importance of using kosher salt or a finely-ground salt; otherwise the peanuts are spicy but bland. If you want a little bit of heat but not a lot, reduce the number of dried chilies and peppercorns. Lastly, I should note that you’re not going to easily find Sichuan peppercorns at your local grocery store; you’ll probably need to head over to a specialty spice store, Whole Foods, or a local Asian market. (I recommend the latter; the prices will be much more reasonable.) This is a great snack for guests–and a better alternative to potato chips if you’re a snacker. I personally enjoy them while playing games myself… and even more so when I win them!

My first memorable experience with scallion pancakes (蔥油餅, cōng yóu bǐng) was with James at his family’s restaurant six years ago. I remember being initially enchanted by the aroma of sesame oil and the scallion-flecked surface of its golden crust. Once I took a big, crispy bite, the crunch was then followed by chewy layers of green onion and dough. Whether I chose to dip each slice into the sauce provided or not, I was in heaven. Delicious, fried doughy heaven.

We’ve since moved to Los Angeles and have a veritable gold mine of authentic Chinese/Taiwanese food at our fingertips (hello, San Gabriel Valley!) but whenever we feel too lazy to make the drive out east, we make whatever we feel like eating at home. I’ve slowly increased my repertoire to include three-cup chicken (三杯雞, sān bēi jī) and mapo tofu (麻婆豆腐, má pó dòu fu), but only recently tried my hand at scallion pancakes. I’ll be honest—the first few attempts were less than fruitful. Too crispy, not enough layers, not enough flavor, not enough scallions… I was especially frustrated at my inability to capture the crispiness of the outside compared to the doughy, chewy layers on the inside.

Eventually I found a way to make scallion pancakes that satisfied my cravings and earned a thumbs-up from James (which meant a lot to me since he grew up making them after all!). It’s a little more time-consuming because it involves brushing layers of sesame oil and re-rolling the dough for each individual pancake—but getting the consistency just right was a triumph in itself for me.  I would never claim that these could trump the restaurants here in Los Angeles that have been doing their amazing scallion pancake thing for years– I’m looking at you, Sin Bala and Earthen Restaurant—but you’ll be pretty darn close for a first-time attempt. And for those of you that don’t have the convenience of living 20 minutes away from Chinatown—this will be a delicious, authentic discovery.

A few notes (as always):

• Do you like onions? I do, so I included the white part of the green onions in the recipe. If you would prefer a more subtle flavor, just use the green part of the onions and compensate by using 4 stalks instead of 3.
• Boiling water is necessary for the initial mixture of flour, salt and scallions because it encourages the dough to stick together much faster than cold water.
• Be careful after your dough comes together! Poke it first after you initially turn it onto a work surface to knead. If it’s too hot, give it a minute to cool and try again.
• The dough will be extremely sticky to work with, but try to be as sparing with flour as possible. Using too much flour will dry out the dough and will make the final product more like a cracker than chewy.
• If you want to try for more flaky, chewy layers you can add more layers of sesame oil after the initial two that I list in the recipe—I found that two was sufficient enough to get the consistency I wanted.
• Scallion pancakes are oily. I know, I sound like Captain Obvious, but seriously—you can place them on paper towels after pan frying, but don’t press the oil out of them or blot them of oil. Otherwise, you’ll get scallion crackers.  Yes, I am (unfortunately) speaking from experience.

Isn’t this great? I make the mistakes so you don’t have to! May your scallion pancakes be crispy, chewy and delectable…