Why You Should Make the Sichuan Classic Twice-Cooked Pork

Observing that I always ordered the same thing, my dad became determined to re-create the dish at home. For months, I watched him experiment in the kitchen with an array of chili pastes lined up on the counter. After many taste tests (in which I eagerly participated), I concluded that not only was my dad the best chef in the world, but that now, finally, he held the secret to the best twice‑cooked pork.

While developing this recipe, I drew inspiration from my dad’s version, along with longstanding techniques used by Sichuanese chefs. Twice-cooked pork is known as “hui guo rou” in Mandarin, which means “meat back in the wok,” and it is cooked twice just as the name suggests. 

To make it, boil pork belly to soften the skin and fat, which allows the fat in the slices to render quickly in the wok during the stir-frying step (without overcooking the meat). Ginger and scallions are traditionally added to the poaching liquid to enhance the flavor of the pork belly. Using leek greens instead of scallions makes use of the whole leek (as the white and light green parts are added during the stir-frying).

Chill the pork for at least 3 hours so that it’s easier to slice thin. After slicing, sauté the pork in oil in a hot wok. Restaurants vary regarding how hard they stir-fry the pork: Some versions feature soft, melt-in-your-mouth slices of pork; others are very well-done and crispy. I prefer somewhere in the middle—mostly tender pieces with some browning for a lightly crispy, caramelized result. 

Next, stir in fermented black beans; they add bursts of salty richness. Push everything to one side of the wok and spoon dòubànjiàng (fermented chili bean paste) into the pork fat that pools opposite the meat; fry the paste until the oil turns bright red. And then add a bit of sweet bean sauce for malty depth. 

At this point in traditional recipes, green garlic is added for a fresh flourish, but it can be hard to find; instead, use pieces of the white and light green parts of leeks to brighten the dish with their light onion flavor (leeks are a common substitute in restaurants). Next, stir in chunks of longhorn chiles for a clean, grassy finish and a punch of heat and drizzle in a touch of dark soy sauce and sugar to boost color and sweetness.

The result is a dish that looks beautiful and tastes even better. The pork-infused chili oil serves as the sauce; my favorite approach is to spoon everything over a bowl of white rice and let the oil coat each grain. For peak satisfaction, shovel each bite into your mouth with chopsticks. My dad used to scold me over my mess at fancy restaurants while indulging in this dish—and then smile and serve me more.