Recently, I’ve been reading Fuchsia Dunlop’s Shark’s Fin and Sichuan Pepper, her memoirs as the first Westerner to enroll at the Sichuan Culinary Institute. The novel is a fascinating page-turner for anyone interested in food or China and its accompanying history. As Dunlop wrote about the half a dozen ways to stir fry, or the canon of 23 complex flavors of Sichuan cuisine, I was struck by how little I actually know about Chinese cooking. Even the phrase “Chinese cooking” is a misnomer because the regional schools of cuisine vary tremendously. Aside from her experiences as a student and researcher, Dunlop weaves in anecdotes on the history of Chinese cuisine and food culture. If you are confused by the use of MSG in Chinese cooking, or don’t understand the appeal of chicken feet or other offal items, do take a peek for insights into the Chinese mindset.

Of course, all this means that I have been ravenously craving Sichuan food for the last few days. And what better place to satiate that craving than perennial Chicago favorite Lao Sze Chuan? As a matter of fact, owner/chef Tony Hu is also a graduate of the aforementioned Sichuan Culinary Institute, though he was probably long gone by the time Dunlop arrived.

Each meal at Lao Sze Chuan begins with a complimentary dish of spicy cabbage. The thinly sliced cabbage is pickled and fermented, and holds an irresistible appeal even to those who normally eschew vegetables. (Tony, are you reading this? I know several people who would be willing to buy the spicy cabbage by the bucket.) While analyzing the manuscript-length menu, we ordered some pot stickers to start. The plump pot stickers arrived with a lightly fried bottom, accompanied with the requisite soy sauce cut with vinegar. The pork filling was well-seasoned, though a little too mushy for my taste.

Despite all my previous trips to Lao Sze Chuan, I had never noticed the hotpot offering on the last page until now. This involves placing a pot of broth over a tabletop burner and cooking raw ingredients in the boiling broth, a variation on savory fondue. There is a regular broth and a spicy broth for the more adventurous, but I recommend ordering a hotpot with a divider so that you can try both.

In her book, Dunlop described inviting her parents to visit Chengdu for the first time, and bringing them to a hotpot dinner. Midway through, Dunlop looked over at her father to notice that he was gamely chewing on a piece of goose intestine, with a polite expression on his face. Her mother was not faring much better, as she faced an array bouncy castle for sale of tripe, rabbit kidneys and cartilage. Dunlop wrote, “Couldn’t I at least have ordered some lean beef fillet or slices of chicken for my poor parents? What induced me to inflict such a meal on them? The answer is painfully clear: goose intestines, and the whole rubbery array of Sichuanese offal delicacies have become utterly normal to me.”

Luckily, the raw offerings at Lao Sze Chuan are a bit more tailored towards American palates. We were given the choice of two meats, and opted for beef and lamb. This was accompanied by an immense platter of assorted seafood and vegetables, including head-on shrimp, squid, mussels, fish balls, watercress, napa, tofu blocks, tofu skins and glass noodles. The broth arrived fragrant with shiitake mushrooms, scallions and tomatoes. After a couple hours of use, the broth was even richer. Plus, the hotpot deal is all-you-can-eat, so you can request additional ingredients should you run out. This is a fun experience with groups, as you each contribute to the cooking of the meal and fish for your dinner.

Service is generally attentive, though it can require some aggression to flag down a server when the restaurant is packed. At other times, the service can be described as charmingly bad. As she delivered a plate of tofu skins, our server inadvertently tipped a good deal of water onto my plate. However, we took the accident with such good cheer that the jocular host ended up taking our pictures for the photo collection on the wall upstairs. That’s right, I’ve made it into the Lao Sze Chuan “Hall of Fame.” You know you’re jealous.

Lao Sze Chuan
2172 S. Archer (SW end of the Chinatown Mall)
(312) 326-5040