Right, this is PROPER kung pao, not that gloopy, sweet rubbish you get from dodgy takeaways. Real kung pao chicken hits you with a wave of heat from the dried chillies, then the numbing tingle of Sichuan peppercorns, followed by the crunch of roasted peanuts and the savoury depth of the sauce. The whole thing takes about six minutes in a screaming hot wok, and if your smoke alarm doesn't go off at least once, you're not cooking it right. Velvet the chicken first with a quick marinade in cornstarch and egg white, and it'll be as tender as butter. Absolutely stunning.

Now, my dears, I must confess that the first time I tasted pad thai on a sweltering afternoon in Bangkok, I nearly wept with joy. The balance of flavors is simply extraordinary: sweet from the palm sugar, sour from the tamarind, salty from the fish sauce, and that wonderful little kick of heat. You must not be afraid of the wok! Get it very, very hot, toss everything with great confidence, and remember: cooking is meant to be a joyful adventure. If a noodle flies out of the pan, so be it. That's what the floor is for, after all.