Anthony Bourdain inspires me as both a writer and a chef. Truth be told, I think I like him as a writer more than a chef, but that’s only because I have never actually tasted his food.  He is at times irreverent, political, acerbic and genuinely heartfelt in his storytelling.  He is the high-end chef shooting at El Bulli and the every-man sitting down on a plastic stool to a bowl of noodles in the streets of Hanoi.

Which brings me to tonight.

The kids are away, (the parents will play) and we have been looking to play with a particular dish that is so un-kid, so gastro-daring, that we didn’t dare until tonight.

Truth, dare, or double-dare?

La Zi Ji –  more chili peppers than chicken:  a minefield of prickly ash (Szechuan peppercorns) and chili peppers to navigate your chopsticks around.  Not for the faint of heart or GI, it was surprisingly easy to prepare, and more fun to eat.  (***Editor’s note:  we used fresh Thai green chili peppers in place of dried red as we were cooking out of the fridge).

We controlled our heat.  We nibbled our hot peppers to infuse the chicken, and subsequently sat back while our eyelids broke out in sweat.  We paused.  We went back for more.  This is S&M chicken at it’s best.  It is walking the knife’s edge of pleasure and pain, coming out of it unsure of which side you landed on.  Safe words became innocuous vegetables lightly sauteed and tossed in soy.

I love exploratory cooking.  I love to try the weird, wonderful and audacious.  It is such a deeply-felt guttural reaction, it can’t help but be honest.  It feeds my soul in a bizarre truth-serum, you-can’t-hide=from-the-spice kind of cleansing.  But in a good way.

Or maybe I’m just a foodie-geek:  you be the judge.