It felt like the pandemic stopped most of us in our tracks this year, but in the bigger picture life went on with a continuation of trends already in place. Among them, the diversification of the Chinese food scene beyond Cantonese fare, with a growing presence of specialists in the cuisines of northern China and Taiwan.
One of the notable players in the Chinese community, Legend Seafood Restaurant, even hopped on the bandwagon, opening sister restaurant Simply Sichuan two weeks ago next door in the Chinatown Cultural Plaza. The new restaurant focuses on the fiery foods associated with northern China — though made tamer, given what the owners know about local tastes.
You might read that as a bad thing, but considering the bold spicing and flavor intensity of Sichuan cuisine, the food here doesn’t lack flavor at all. And, if you happen to be well-versed in Sichuan cuisine, you can always request additional spice. The chef, who hails from Sichuan province, will happily oblige.
Put simply, this is Sichuan for beginners, and that’s not a bad thing either, because all the flowery, citrusy aromatics of the Sichuan peppercorn — a hallmark of the cuisine — are present. But it’s kept in balance with other ingredients, almost canceling out the more off-putting, tongue-numbing effect of the pepper. I’ve always said I don’t particularly care for the numbing this pepper can cause. Even so, its flavor — although an acquired taste for some — is addicting, likely because of the rush of pleasure-activating endorphins released by the brain in response to the pepper’s capsaicin. Even when full, even if in pain from the heat, I find it difficult to stop eating this food.
A good place to start if you’re there for lunch is with the classic dan dan noodles ($7.99), one of the most famous of Sichuan street foods. It arrived in a small bowl that nevertheless managed to be quite filling. If you’re prone to spending lots of time time taking perfect photos of your food, try to hurry it up. The wheat noodles soften while sitting, although their chewy, bouncy consistency remains pleasant. Give the noodles a good stir to incorporate all the sesame paste at the bottom of the bowl.
One item you’ll see at every table is the housemade sour plum juice suanmeitang. Comprising smoked plums and several herbs said to boost health and metabolism, it may taste like Chinese medicine to some, but I consider it a must-try item.
The menu is the same for lunch and dinner, andthere are fewer of the pools of red chile oil that strike fear in the hearts of westerners. We like the taste of fat and oil as much as anyone, but as a people who often prefer to live in denial rather than deal with reality, we just happen to prefer our fat and oil unseen and unfelt.
A bowl of boiled fish (basa fillets) in hot sauce ($16.99) has half the oil and a quarter of the whole red chiles I’ve seen in the same dish elsewhere, but it’s just as flavorful and perhaps even more enjoyable with fewer of those Sichuan peppers. Even so, watch out for a coughing spasm if those peppers catch in your throat the wrong way. Again, the kitchen will up the chile quotient if that’s what you want.
A waiter tried to steer me toward a daily special of lamb chops one evening, but I had my heart set on another Sichuan staple of fried lamb with cumin ($20.99), this one saucier than other dry-fried versions I’ve tried around town.
Dishes from other provinces and Taiwan also appear on the menu for the sake of diners who can’t stomach heat. These include the Taiwanese specialty of three-cup chicken ($14.99) with a glossy sauce comprising equal parts soy sauce, sesame oil and rice wine. The chicken is stir-fried with red and green bell peppers and basil, which give the tongue a needed break from the saltier aspects of the dish.
Nods to those who can’t go without Cantonese staples include sweet-sour pork ($11.99) and chow fun ($12.99 to $15.99) with chicken, beef, pork, seafood or vegetarian options. Vegetable offerings also provide relief from chile-laden food. They include a relatively mild Sichuan eggplant stir-fry ($11.99) and crisp, blistered dry-fried green beans ($13.99) topped with ground pork.
Other northern classics I will return for include the Couple’s Lung ($11.99), sliced beef with chile sauce, and perhaps a more authentic version of kung pao chicken ($14.99), shrimp ($17.99) or beef ($15.99) than available elsewhere in Honolulu. It’s funny that I simply overlooked this dish because I never order it anymore, having only experienced tepid versions at so many restaurants around town. Maybe here this dish will find redemption.
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Simply Sichuan
Chinatown Cultural Plaza, 100 N. Beretania St.
Food: ****
Service: ***1/2
Ambiance: ***
Value: ****
Call: 524-6877
Hours: 11 a.m. to 8 p.m. Thursdays to Tuesdays
Prices: About $55 for two to four people
Ratings compare similar restaurants:
**** – excellent
*** – very good
** – average
* – below average
Nadine Kam’s restaurant reviews are conducted anonymously and paid for by the Star-Advertiser. Reach her at nkam@staradvertiser.com.
