Szechuan cuisine has become increasingly popular all over the world, epitomised by the distinctive flavour profile of “mala” or the tongue-numbing properties imparted by the famed incendiary Szechuan peppercorns and dried chilli peppers that have become so distinctive in the cuisine.
But the breadth and width of Szechuan cuisine stretches further than this one singular component. There are four regional branches of Szechuan cuisine and 24 flavour profiles that include “mala” as well as spicy sesame (sesame and mala), garlic paste (mala, garlic, sesame oil and chilli oil) and many, many others.
One particular style of Szechuan cuisine that hails back to a halcyon past is the 1930s Chinese Republican-era Chengdu mansion cuisine.
That particular style of cooking had its heyday in the early 20th century because famous chefs with top-notch culinary skills were hired to cook in the homes of wealthy mansion owners and high-ranking officials in Chengdu, giving birth to a refined style of Szechuan cuisine that focused on delicate flavour balancing, intense knife skills and artistic presentations.
Over the years, the cuisine has become increasingly rare, as the techniques involved are laborious and painstaking, requiring intricate knife work and multi-day preparations. Additionally, many of the recipe-keepers worked in private family homes, so as these cooks aged and eventually passed on, their recipes and knowledge died with them.
At the Michelin-starred Five Foot Road in MGM Cotai in Macau, 60-year-old executive sous chef Yang Dengquan is dedicated to reviving the cuisine and elevating it further. Yang is a Chengdu native and a second-generation inheritor of the cuisine, which he learnt from one of the last great master chefs of Chengdu mansion cuisine. He has been cooking the cuisine for 40 years now and has been an instrumental figure in keeping it alive.
His 20-team kitchen is helmed almost entirely by Chengdu natives, barring one person who was hired to make noodles.
At the restaurant, Yang has introduced refined mansion cuisine dishes like marinated fresh abalone with homemade chilli sauce, which features abalone marinated for over four hours with more than 30 indigenous Szechuan herbs – highlighting the supple, voluptuous texture of the abalone against an undulating heat-laden oil that blooms with each mouthful.
The crispy diced pork with Szechuan peppercorn and sweet sauce meanwhile highlights textural beauty, sweetness and lightly fiery undertones in each bite, offering the satisfaction of fast food juxtaposed against the finesse of good, high-quality cooking.
Perhaps one of the dishes that best epitomises the labour and work involved in Chengdu mansion cuisine’s early 20th century grandeur is the stewed matsutake mushroom with minced chicken and egg white in bouillon.
Here, the chicken breast is fashioned to resemble tofu in texture. This is achieved by using the blunt edge of a knife to finely mince the breast and remove all the fibre and connective tissue. This is then hand-mixed with egg whites and stock and gently boiled to create a fluffy, airy texture similar to tofu. The wizardry involved in this cooking technique is nothing short of some sort of culinary miracle, because although the poultry flavours come through strongly, the texture of the dish is a dead ringer for tofu!
Ultimately, a meal here shows that Szechuan cuisine is far more than the ubiquitous fare that has caught on like wildfire across the globe. It is also a potent reminder that even meals made 100 years ago can be rejuvenated and given new life, especially when the person breathing oxygen into the cuisine is someone as talented as Yang.
