Spicy Spicy Pot Crayfish
This spicy and hot pot crayfish is an explosive home-made hard dish. It perfectly combines the dry and fragrant compound flavor of the classic spicy and hot pot with the fresh and elastic taste of crayfish. The shrimp meat is firm and tasty, the shrimp shell is red and crisp, and the crisp and refreshing vegetables are filled with spicy and spicy sauce. The spicy and fragrant, slightly sweet aftertaste, no complicated cooking skills, the temperature and seasoning steps are extremely detailed, and zero failure, and the novice are all, and the family snacks, and friends, and the family snacks are, the taste is rich and not greasy, suitable for most heavy diners.
Throat. My throat felt like it had been polished with sandpaper. No, worse than that. It's like swallowing a handful of electrified pebbles and tapping in his mouth.
Why? Why is it more difficult to reproduce the authentic taste of Chongqing in Berlin, known as the "International Food Capital", than to ascend to the sky? The bottles labeled "Sichuan Pepper" on the supermarket shelves smell of dust when opened. Fake. It's all fake. There are also those dried peppers, which look red and fried in the pot, only burnt bitterness, and have no soul.
I'm crazy tonight. Really.
Swipe a video. Just as I was lying on the couch and the stupid cat called "Sausage" at my feet was nibbling on my slippers. In the video, on the streets of Chongqing, a big iron pot, rolling red oil, crayfish (oh no, it's called crayfish here, but in Chongqing we call it "shrimp shrimp" or "hemp small") dancing in chili oil. That voice. It's so sizzling. That color. It's so red that it makes you want to cry.
I want to eat it. Immediately. Immediately.
I lived in Berlin for four years. I'm an Italian, well, I admit, I often overcook even pasta, but I have an obsession with "spicy". I think I can do it. After all, spicy pot crayfish, doesn't it sound like throwing things into the pot and stir-frying? How difficult can it be?
Big mistake. disaster. A complete disaster.
The reason is simple. That video is so tempting. The blogger waved his hand, and the spices entered the pot, and the aroma seemed to penetrate the screen and penetrate directly into my nostrils. I jumped. The shoelaces are loose, too lazy to tie them. Rush into the kitchen. Open the refrigerator. The cold light is dazzling. The refrigerator buzzed as if laughing at me.
I have frozen crawfish tails. Bought in German supermarkets. It looks a little pale, like a dead man's finger. Forget it. You can use it after washing, right?
Mistake one. I didn't go to the shrimp line. I thought, anyway, it's too spicy to eat. Naive. It's too naïve.
Mistake two. Spices. I poured the whole bottle of "peppercorns" into it. I thought it was regular black pepper. The result? That's Sichuan peppercorns. Pepper. My tongue instantly lost consciousness. It's not spicy, it's numb. It was like being electrocuted. It's like a hundred ants partying on their tongues.
And so on. The cat meowed. Meow? Forget it.
The oil in the pan began to smoke. Blue smoke. Choking. I coughed. Tears flowed. At this time, I remembered that the video said to fry the spices first, and then put the shrimp. I've already thrown the shrimp in. Along with that whole bottle of peppercorns.
Panic. The phone fell to the ground. The screen cracked a slit. I picked it up and my fingers were covered in oil. Slippery. It almost fell off again. Check the steps? It's too late. The sound in the pot is wrong. It's not a sizzle, it's a crackling explosion. Oil splattered out. It burned the back of my hand. Hiss—it hurts.
I want to add water. No, you can't add water, it will fry. So what to add? Beer? Yes, Germans have beer. I grabbed a bottle of Berliner Kindl. Pour it in.
Boom.
Steam rose into the air. I can't see it. Nothing can be seen. There is only white fog and red shadows. Cough. Coughing violently. The lungs are about to cough up.
This is the reality. It's completely different from what I imagined.
| I imagined the steps | Disaster steps that occur in reality |
|---|---|
| Wash the crayfish elegantly, removing the shrimp threads and keeping them intact. | In a daze at the pale frozen shrimp tails, he threw them directly into the pot with the shell and intestines, silently thinking in his heart that "no one will find out". |
| Accurately control the oil temperature and slow-fry the spices over low heat to release a rich aroma. | The hands trembled and poured more oil, the fire burned, and a whole bottle of peppercorns was poured into it as black pepper, instantly creating a chemical weapon scene. |
| Add beer to remove the fishy smell and enhance the aroma, the soup is rich and red, and the juice is perfect. | In a panic, cold beer was poured, causing a violent steam explosion, and the kitchen turned into a sauna, and the eyes were too hot to open. |
| Put it on a plate, sprinkle with chopped green onions and sesame seeds, take photos and post them on Instagram, and get countless likes. | Turn off the fire, in a daze at the messy table, the cat hid under the table and didn't dare to come out, I looked at my red eyes in the mirror. |
Three fatal mistakes I made:
- Ignoring shrimp lines: Thinking that the spiciness can cover everything, it turns out that every bite is chewing on mud and excrement, and it tastes like eating gritty sand.
- Spice confusion: Treat hemp pepper as black pepper, and the amount is out of control. This is not seasoning, this is self-harm. My lips were still twitching, as if I had my own consciousness.
- The operation order is chaotic: the shrimp is directly added without fried spices, resulting in the outside and the inside being burnt, and the taste of the spices does not come out at all, only the strange smell of burnt and raw smell mixed.
My last straw:
- A lot of sugar: grabbed a handful of sugar in a panic and sprinkled it in. Not for sweetness, but to neutralize that outrageous numbness and bitterness. How useful it is?
- Extra minced garlic: Cut a whole head of garlic, throw it in and sauté until fragrant. The garlic smell covers at least a little fishy smell.
- Psychological hint: I told myself that this is the "innovative version" of Berlin-style spicy hot pot. As long as I don't say it, no one knows that this is a rollover scene.
It turns out that the so-called "home-cooked" is just a surviving product after countless attempts to blow up the kitchen.
What does it taste like?
How to say it. First bite. I was stunned. Hemp. Extreme numbness. The tongue was like half a pound of lidocaine. Then there is the spiciness. The burning sensation burned from the tip of the tongue to the stomach. And then there is ...... Gravel feeling. Shrimp line. Damn shrimp line.
But. Strangely. Second sip. It's actually a bit addictive. That chaotic taste, burnt, numb, spicy, sweet, and garlic, mixed into an indescribable strange smell. It's like the streets of Chongqing crashing into a Berlin nightclub. Chaotic, noisy, but full of energy.
I ate it all. A whole plate. Drink water, shed tears, and eat at the same time. The cat looked at me under the table, its eyes full of sympathy, or looking at a madman.
Q: What should I do if my tongue is numb?
A: Drink milk. Whole milk. Don't drink water, water will only spread the numbing smell. Or take a bite of ice cream, if you have one. I only had yogurt at the time, so make do.
Q: Do frozen crayfish need to be thawed?
A: Must! Completely thawed! Also brush with a brush! Don't be like me, just throw it in, that is, you are cooking ice cubes, the outside is old and the inside is still raw.
Q: How much peppercorns is appropriate?
A: A little bit. Really, just a little. If you are a novice, pinch a few with your fingers. Don't pour the bottle. Don't pour the bottle. Unless you want to experience the feeling of your tongue running away from home.
Action suggestion: Before you do it next time, recognize all the spices clearly. Take a small notebook and write it down. Or, simply order takeout. Really, sometimes admitting that you are a kitchen killer is also a relief.
The kitchen now. A mess. The walls are full of oil spots. The stove is full of chili peels. The sink is full of dirty dishes. The cat finally came out and was licking the beer stains on the ground.
I stood where I was. He was still holding the pair of chopsticks stained with red oil in his hand.
The mouth is still numb. Still jumping.
I think I might need another bottle of beer. Or two bottles.
Wait, is that bottle not closed yet? It seems to have been missed......