The Philosophy of Twice
The name is literal: huí guō (回锅) means "return to the wok." The pork is cooked twice — first simmered whole to render fat and tenderize, then sliced and stir-fried to transform.
This technique wasn't born from luxury. It was born from frugality. In rural Sichuan, a piece of pork belly might be simmered for one meal, then the leftover meat would be sliced and stir-fried the next day. What started as peasant ingenuity became refined cuisine.
The magic happens in the second cooking. When thin-sliced belly hits a smoking hot wok, the edges curl, the fat renders and crisps, and the lean meat caramelizes. The doubanjiang and sweet bean paste paint everything in red and brown. The leeks provide sharp contrast.
It's not flashy. It's not complicated. But ask anyone from Sichuan what they miss when they're far from home, and this will be the answer.
"The greatest dishes aren't invented. They're discovered, in kitchens, by people who had nothing and made something perfect."