The Chairman drops the Mao, but retains the Hunan heat

The hottest food I've ever eaten was at Chairman Mao in Kensington. Specifically, the wok-scorched jalapenos, rustling with black beans, whole garlic, soy and vinegar. Ferocious, unapologetic, brain-melting spice to make your nose look like the "before" shot on a Demazin commercial and kickbox your taste buds at every turn.

Chairman Mao celebrated the full-throttle cooking of China's Hunan province – an explosion of ferments, cured meats and fresh chilli. More than once I spotted Neil Perry at its modest Anzac Parade digs, his table heaving with soups, stews and braises. But the curtain came down on Mao early last year and I've been missing those jalapenos ever since.

Or at least I was missing them until The Chairman opened four weeks ago. Hunanese-born owners Andrew Bao and Dingjun Li have dropped the "Mao" ("too political") and relaunched on the ground level of Darlinghurst's The Residence apartment block, opposite Hyde Park. 

The soft carpets and chinoiserie of previous tenant Madame Shanghai have been retained, meaning the dining room is considerably more plush than the original. Prices have gone up to suit the room, too, and there are more fancy dishes – steamed barramundi with soft tofu ($48.80), say, and stir-fried abalone ($128.80). File them in the "for special occasions" drawer and start with soothing slices of chilled tripe stuffed with cured pork ($28.80) instead.

Okra – a ridiculously versatile vegetable that deserves far more attention in Australia – is charred and stir-fried with shiso and red peppers ($28.80). Crunchy, sweet and salty with only a flicker of heat, it's the type of comfort cooking I could eat every day for lunch. 

Ditto the caramelised wodges of red-braised pork belly ($38.80), though their stratospheric kilojoule count would swiftly become an issue.

The spice levels begin slowly, creeping like a tiger stalking its prey, and then – bam! – your brain's on fire.

If you're looking for the jalapenos, they're listed as "green chilli with garlic and black bean sauce – $28.80" and they land on our table wonderfully charred and fragrant and blistered. Except – oh no! – they're nowhere near as fiery as I remember. Was it the kitchen or was it me? (I did recently spend three days in Nashville eating fried chicken so hot it threatened to bring on hallucinations. When it comes to spice, have my taste buds been ruined for life?)

On a return visit, we're seated by the open kitchen. It's nice to hear the sounds of the wok – clank, clunk, thwunk – and whooshing of the flames, even if the lighting in this part of the restaurant has been dialled up to 7-Eleven levels.

Li shakes pans while the ever-gracious Bao works the floor, refilling pots of oolong tea ($5) and pouring Marlbourgh's elegant 2019 Saint Clair Omaka Reserve Chardonnay by the glass ($25). "Could we please order the smoked pork with chillies and tofu?" I ask. "And make it extra hot." Bao looks equal parts amused and concerned. "Are you sure? Extra hot is, eh, very hot."

I'm sure, I tell him. I can handle it. Except, it turns out, I can't. We order the big, meaty tiger prawns with spring onion ($68.80) "extra hot", too. The jalapenos have also been jumbled onto a ring of preserved duck egg that's rich and gelatinous and pulsing with black tea ($35.80). 

The spice levels across all three begin slowly, creeping like a tiger stalking its prey, and then – bam! – your brain's on fire and your face is trembling, hands flailing as they try to grab the nearest glass.

"Can we get some more [gasp] water [gasp] for the table, please?" Yes, I know it does nothing, but I don't care. Give me cold liquid or give me death.

But through the ferocity of it all, Li's cooking shines. The slips of pork are like bacon with ambition, sweet and smoky against aromatic curry leaves. The taste of the ocean is still there in each fat prawn (there are maybe seven of them) wok-fried to the colour of a setting sun. There are no sticky sauces and starchy carbohydrates and, when the heat dies and you can sit back with a riesling, you feel refreshed and alive rather than roll-me-out-of-here.

The new Good Food Guide was published this week and if The Chairman had opened in time for our deadline, it certainly would have been included. (Bao and Li's Botany restaurant, Mrs Ding, is in there, though.)

Sydney can never have enough regionally specific restaurants like this, a place celebrating centuries-old tradition and singular flavours with more red and green chillies than I've ever seen.

Vibe: Hunanese hospitality and hot times in the city

Go-to dish: Smoked pork with tofu and chilli ($38.80)

Drinks: Serviceable selection of spice-friendly Australian and Old World wines

Cost: About $160 for two, excluding drinks

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine