I discovered Lao Gan Ma by accident. I was in Chinatown’s Hong Kong Supermarket looking for the chili oil they use at Tasty Hand-Pulled Noodles, a reddish-orange blend packed with dried chilies and spices. But I was at a loss. All of the jars and bottles looked similar, and because I tend to trust the opinion of the masses in large, busy supermarkets, I grabbed a jar of the stuff that was most popular, one with a sticker of a not-quite-smiling Asian matriarch (“gan ma” means godmother in Chinese). There were only three remaining on the shelf.

It turned out not to be the chili oil used at Tasty Hand-Pulled Noodles — it was better. I actually don’t know if it should be called a chili sauce at all. It’s thick and crunchy, a texture it owes to an abundance of dried chilies that are fried and crushed. It’s more like a chili topping. There’s also the addition of fermented soybeans (which add a nice bit of funk), some Sichuan peppercorn for a mild tingling sensation, and — this is important — some MSG for even more umami. It’s spicy, to be sure, but not Elmhurst-Thai spicy: It’s balanced the way sriracha is, only with more crunch and oomph.

Now, I’m addicted to the stuff. I probably go through a jar a week and need at least five stashed in my pantry or I will panic a bit. I’ve made whole meals out of spicy chili crisp on rice or spicy chili crisp on scrambled eggs. I order sad takeout lo mein that is only edible if I perk it up with my happy crispy sauce. I’m not alone in my adoration for spicy chili crisp. Danny Bowien of Mission Chinese Food offers a cheffy dupe for it in his cookbook. Lucky Peach’s 101 Easy Asian Recipes calls it a pantry staple.

While you could always look for it in an Asian supermarket, it’s not something most are guaranteed to carry (or carry enough of, something I’ve learned the hard way many times). Do yourself a favor and buy it online — you’ll always find more than three jars.