Hot or not, some tasty treats

How hot are the spices at Little Szechuan?

Hot enough to burn the place down. Shortly after the new Chinese restaurant opened on St. Paul's University Avenue last October, a cook roasting chile peppers started a kitchen fire that closed the restaurant for a couple of months of repairs and remodeling.

Authentic Szechuan dishes -- at least the spicy ones -- are supposed to pack that kind of wallop. And when the first wave of Szechuan restaurants arrived in the '70s -- restaurants such as the long-gone Empress in Edina, and the Princess Garden in St. Paul -- their renditions of kung pao chicken and twice-cooked pork were memorably piquant.

But gradually, on its way to the supermarket freezer case, fiery hot Szechuan lost its edge. Every Chinese restaurant added a few dishes like kung pao chicken or hot-and-sour soup to its menu, and when their clientele complained that it was too spicy, they toned it down.

Little Szechuan actually offers two menus: a green menu, in English only, featuring more Americanized fare, and a bilingual menu with a black cover, listing more authentically Chinese dishes. I'm not sure how they decide which menu to hand diners.

Guess which menu offers General Tao's chicken, Hunan beef, and hot-and-sour soup?

Those supposedly traditional dishes are only on the green menu. The black menu offers many regional dishes rarely seen in the United States, ranging from diced rabbit big sister style, and tongue slices with red chili oil, to eel strips with spicy sauce and tofu, and lamb cooked with cumin.

Are they authentic? A Chinese-American friend tells me that they come closer to dishes he's had in China than anything he has had at other U.S. Chinese restaurants.

For gastronomic adventurers, Little Szechuan is a happy hunting ground, but as with all gastronomic adventures, satisfaction is not guaranteed. The Chinese have a saying that the sweetest meat is closest to the bone, and some very tasty dishes, such as the house special chicken appetizer, require picking through chopped-up morsels of necks and wings.

Other dishes, including the fish fillet and tofu in spicy broth, are served in a bowl of spicy, oily broth -- delicious, but greasy by American standards. The intensely savory twice-cooked pork is salty and fatty, which is fine if you eat it Chinese style with a little meat and a lot of rice. But if you eat it in large quantities, it's too much of a good thing.

But not every dish at Little Szechuan is spicy. Many milder dishes are offered, ranging from steamed flounder with ginger and green onions to sautéed dry shrimp with tofu (soft custardy cubes of bean curd in a very mild sauce flavored with shredded dried shrimp).

Favorites from my recent visit include the Chung King chili shrimp, a generous quantity of large shrimp, lightly dusted and deep-fried, then tossed with smoky hot Szechuan pepper, and the kung pao chicken, diced boneless chicken tossed with peanuts and hot peppers. The Szechuan cold spicy noodle was a surprise and a delight. The noodles were cooked to perfection, and the sesame sauce was much lighter than the heavy, pasty versions I have had elsewhere.

I'm still not quite sure what part of the pig's anatomy went into the head cheese with red spicy oil, but the ribbons of meat were chewy and flavorful. Dry fried green beans have become a popular item on American menus, often with salty sauces or other complications; Little Szechuan's version keeps the seasonings simple, allowing the flavor and texture of the fresh beans to take center stage.

Prices are very reasonable: Most main courses are less than $12 and are large enough to share. The red and gold decor, with hot pepper motif, is a notch more stylish than the usual Chinese restaurant. There's even a tiny selection of decent wines by the bottle or glass.

Jeremy Iggers • jeremyiggers@earthlink.net.