You want chilies? Alan Zhang's got chilies. The soft-spoken owner of this West Dade Chinese spot has emblazoned his walls with the fiery peppers. In the kitchen, there's a gurgling pot bearing his signature chili oil. It's filled with an unholy mountain of the firecrackers, a handful of numbing Sichuan peppercorns, sesame seeds, and star anise pods. The rest is a secret. Find it throughout his menu, adding fragrant spice to almost every dish. He spoons it over thick, jiggly noodles ($7.95) made of soybean and tapioca starch. He uses it to braise shards of fatty beef that join boiled cabbage in a ripping-hot stew ($13.95). In Zhang's crowning dish, the oil is spiked with more dried chilies and then used to stir-fry pickled string beans with garlic slivers and minced beef intestine ($12.98). Sure, there's sweat cascading down your brow, your face is on fire, and your eyes are bloodshot and beginning to tear. Most normal people would ask for a glass of water, maybe even milk, to quash the heat. But not now. Now you want more chili oil.
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