General Tao’s Chicken
General Tao had a pet chicken of which he was very fond. As a pet, that is. The chicken went everywhere the General went, on campaigns, going shopping, and even sleeping perched on the foot of his bed, its head tucked under its wing as the General softly snored.
Until one day. The General returned from battle, tired and in need of companionship, but the chicken was nowhere to be found. Searching the camp from one end to the other, General Tao became increasingly disturbed and angry.
One of his staff confessed to letting a stranger meet the chicken. “He said he was very fond of chickens, as pets. He said yours was the finest in the land, and only wanted to pet it. I only left them alone together for a few minutes!” You really don’t want to know what happened next.
Strapping on his sword, the General, accompanied by six of his most ferocious warriors, began to stalk the streets of the city. Before long they were in the restaurant district and he had his men fan out.
In those days signage was somewhat more subdued and dignified, so each establishment had to be entered and investigated. Sadly, it wasn’t long before one of his warriors came racing up. “Sir, I have terrible news! Come with me!”
It was pretty clear from the signage inside the door what had become of the General’s pet. “New and exclusive! General Tao’s Chicken!” You don’t want the details of what transpired next.
And if you think I’m stringing you along, you’re absolutely right. In truth, the dish was invented about a hundred years after the General’s death and isn’t even remotely like food from General Tao’s Hunan home base. There’s a real likelihood that if he had a bite, he’d spit it out, not in deference to his pet, but because Hunanese cuisine tends to bold heat and fermented flavours.
Truth be told, the dish was apparently invented by a Chinese chef who had immigrated to New York some time in the 1970s, naming his creation in honour of a hometown hero. As time went on, the American preference for sweeter and sweeter and gaudier and gaudier led to the bright red sauce we know and love today.
It’s funny how we become comfortable with terminology without the faintest clue about its origins. But, I suppose that’s true about many things we accept without thinking. We owe it to the distraught General to know more about his chicken.