Bang Bang Ji Si is my Favorite Sichuan Chicken Salad (and You Can Make it With Leftover Turkey) (Patreon)

Early on, Thanksgiving leftovers are easy: sliced into sandwiches, shredded into soup, maybe baked into a pie, or stewed into chili. But then you reach that stage of the post-Thanksgiving week where the turkey leftovers stop being food and start being a obligation.

Enter mysterious-flavor turkey, based on the Sichuan guai wei (怪味, “mysterious/strange flavor”) profile. This is one of my all-time favorite treatments for cooked poultry — chicken, turkey, whatever. It’s bright, creamy, numbing, spicy, aromatic, sweet, sour, salty, nutty… basically every taste center firing at once. When you get the balance right, it’s addictive. Not only that, but it even works with week-old, overcooked, dry turkey breast, giving it new life and rescuing its texture. Here's how to make it.

What is "Mysterious Flavor?"

The name makes it sound cryptic, but in Sichuan cuisine, guai wei is a formal flavor system — a balancing act of sweet, sour, salty, spicy, nutty, numbing, and aromatic. “Strange” doesn’t mean “odd”; it means “hard to categorize because it’s doing a bunch of things at once.”

Before guai wei was codified, Sichuan cold dishes were often dressed with a simpler mixture of sesame paste, chili oil, vinegar, soy sauce, and sugar. That was the original cold-dish dressing, especially common in Zigong, where shredded chicken and rabbit dishes were everyday street food. Over time, cooks layered in garlic, ginger, Sichuan peppercorns, and a more intentional sweet-sour balance. That evolution gave rise to the more complex mysterious flavor sauce we know today.

It’s related to the more familiar ma-la (麻辣) flavor profile, but not the same. Where ma-la emphasizes the hot + numbing sensations, guai-wei incorporates those into the classic cold sichuan sauce in a harmonious way. I think of ma-la as a powerful duet but guai-wei as the full orchestra.

From Zigong to Chengdu

Bang bang chicken (bàng bàng jī, 棒棒鸡) came from Zigong. Vendors poached whole chickens, hung them to cool, and then tapped the cooled meat with a wooden baton — the bang — to loosen the fibers. The sound of the baton inspired the name; the technique allowed the chicken to pull apart into long strands.

Early versions were dressed with that simpler sesame-chili-vinegar sauce. As cooks in Chengdu adopted the dish, they began combining it with the emerging guai wei profile. That’s how bang bang chicken and mysterious flavor eventually merged in many modern versions.

(By the way, the fried, mayo-slathered “bang bang chicken” from chain restaurants may be delicious, but it is not related in any way.)

The Components of Mysterious Flavor

Sichuan peppercorn – I use red peppercorns, which have the classic citrusy-floral aroma and numbing tingle. Green peppercorns work too; they’re brighter and more lime-like.

Chili oil or chili crisp – I use local brand Kari Kari Chili Crisp, but any chili oil or crisp works: Lao Gan Ma, Fly By Jing, your homemade batch. This dish is very forgiving.

Roasted sesame paste – Provides deep, toasty nuttiness. Tahini works fine if that’s what you have. For the roasted flavor, I have instructions in The Wok for darkening tahini in a wok, and Chinese Cooking Demystified has an excellent video showing the same technique.

Chinese black vinegar – Chinkiang (Zhenjiang) is traditional, but balsamic works in a pinch. The acidity + depth is what matters.

Soy sauce – Use light Chinese soy sauce or Japanese shoyu. Dark soy is too sweet and syrupy.

Sugar – Balances the acidity and bitterness.

Garlic and ginger – Add brightness and freshness.

Stock – Optional but recommended. A spoonful or two of turkey or chicken stock (especially refrigerator-gelatinized stock) loosens the sesame paste and adds depth. Water or store-bought stock works too.

Salt and MSG – I season using an 8:1 salt-to-MSG ratio. Add salt until the sauce tastes good, then add one-eighth that amount of MSG to deepen the flavor without making it saltier.

How to Make it

To make the dish, I start by shredding the turkey into long strands. If the turkey is a little stiff, I’ll gently tap it with the flat side of a cleaver — a nod to the original bang bang technique. You don’t need to pound it into the ground; just loosen the grain and it’ll shred beautifully.

Next I prep the scallions: two sliced thinly on a sharp bias and dunked into cold water so that they curl (the water plumps up the scallion cells unevenly, causing them to curl like the bi-metal strip in your thermostat), and one chopped normally. Cilantro gets a quick rough chop.

Then I pull out my favorite tool in the kitchen: the mortar and pestle. It’s one of those low-tech devices that has yet to be improved upon. You can grind the Sichuan peppercorns and then build the entire sauce right in the same vessel, and it'll work faster and better than anything else you've got. The pestle is much better than a whisk or the spinning blades of a blender at emulsifying thick sauces like sesame paste, and it’s a lot less messy. Plus, if you have kids, this is one of the few kitchen tasks where I can hand it to my four-year-old Wombat and say "Here , smash this,” and he'll actually be helping while working out some of his not insubstantial proclivities towards smashing.

I crush the peppercorns, add the sesame paste, chili crisp, vinegar, soy sauce, sugar, stock, garlic, ginger, salt, and MSG, and work it all into a smooth, glossy dressing.

Everything then goes into a bowl — turkey, chopped scallion, cilantro, a sprinkle of black sesame seeds (only because I think they look prettier than white sesame seeds in this dish)—then I pour the dressing over the top. This is a situation where mixing with your (clean) hands is superior to hand-held tools. (In fact, I can think of few situations where any tools are better than our hands for mixing).

Once everything’s coated, I pile it onto a platter (or save it in the fridge for a few days until I'm ready to serve it), top it with the scallion curls, more cilantro, a sprinkle of black sesame, and a finishing drizzle of chili oil.

This dish is flexible. Serve it on its own, tucked into lettuce wraps, spooned over slivered cucumber, tossed with cold noodles (with a splash of broth or water to loosen the sauce), or even stuffed into a sandwich. It’s honestly one of the best cold turkey or chicken salads you’ll ever have — no mayo required.

It's a dish that doesn’t just use leftovers, but genuinely transforms them. It’s rich, bright, numbing, spicy, nutty, and refreshing all at once. It takes turkey that has seen better days and gives it a new purpose. And best of all, it gives you options: lettuce wraps for something light, noodles for something hearty, cucumbers for something crisp, or a cold sandwich that tastes like it came from a restaurant instead of the back of your fridge.

If that last awkward slab of turkey is beginning to feel like a moral failing, don’t worry — this recipe has you covered. It’s the rare leftover dish that fixes the past and gives you something genuinely delicious to look forward to.

Recipe: Mysterious-Flavor Turkey or Chicken (怪味)

Every recipe I publish here is personally tested, tasted, and approved.

Yield: Serves 4

Active Time: 20 minutesTotal Time: 20 minutes

Notes:Tahini or peanut butter can substitute for sesame paste; adjust Sichuan peppercorn to taste.This dish works great on its own, in lettuce wraps, with slivered cucumber, or tossed with cold noodles (add a splash of broth or water to loosen the sauce). It also makes an excellent cold turkey/chicken salad sandwich — deeply flavorful without mayonnaise.

Ingredients

For the Turkey or Chicken

1 1/2 pounds (680g) cooked turkey or chicken breast, shredded or thinly sliced

3 scallions (2 sliced thinly on a bias and soaked for curls, 1 chopped)

Small handful cilantro, leaves and tender stems

1 tablespoon (9g) black or white sesame seeds

For the sauce

1 teaspoon (2–3g) Sichuan peppercorns (red or green, husks only), lightly crushed

2 tablespoons (32g) roasted Chinese sesame paste (or tahini)

2 tablespoons (30g) chili oil or chili crisp

2 tablespoons (30g) Chinese black vinegar (Chinkiang, or balsamic in a pinch)

1 tablespoon (15g) light soy sauce or Japanese shoyu

1–2 teaspoons (4–8g) sugar

2 tablespoons (30ml) turkey or chicken stock (optional but recommended)

1 clove garlic, minced

1 teaspoon (5g) minced fresh ginger

Pinch kosher salt

Pinch MSG (about 1/8 the amount of salt)

Method

Prep the scallions:Thiny slice two of the scallions on a very sharp bias and sock in a bowl of cold water while you prep the rest of the dish. Chop the remaining scallion into thin slices and add to a medium bowl.

Shred the turkey:Pull the turkey meat into long, thin fibers with your fingers. Transfer to the bowl with the chopped scallions. Add the cilantro and sesame seeds, reserving some of both for garnish.

Make the sauce:Crush Sichuan peppercorns in a mortar and pestle. Add remaining sauce ingredients and, using the mortar, work into a smooth, emulsified paste. Taste and adjust the flavor with more chili oil, vinegar, soy sauce, sugar, salt, or MSG to taste.

Combine:Add the sauce to the bowl with the turkey and fold to thoroughly combine. Transfer to a serving bowl and top with the scallion curls, more sesame seeds and chopped cilantro, and a drizzle of chili oil. Serve.