I am always on the look-out for finger food ideas. I don't throw too many dinner parties, but when I do, it's nice to have food to distract my guests from noticing my often lack of preparedness, that I'm still chopping, thawing, and menu-planning in the kitchen. Alcohol can do only so much.

Baked chicken wings are a universal favorite, and there's no shortage of easy ways to prepare them. Glazed with teriyaki sauce. Sprinkled with five-spice powder. Curried. Buffaloed. Doused with five types of five-alarm chili sauces.

This recent preparation from my kitchen is a fruity take, blending orange juice, garlic, and soy sauce for a heady citrus fragrance and flavor.  Although I reduced the marinating liquid and brushed it on for an extra layer of glaze, the wings and drummettes didn't turn out as sticky as I thought they would. All the better for digging in with your hands, and ignoring your hostess in the kitchen sweating bullets over the main course.

Orange-Glazed Chicken Wings

1 cup fresh orange juice (from about 2 oranges)
2 tablespoons grated orange zest
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon sugar
2 pounds chicken wings or drummettes
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon fresh-ground black pepper

The first time I ever had dan dan mian was years ago in New York's East Village. It was one of those insanely hot and muggy July days, and my friend S and I were walking on St. Mark's Street, sweaty even in tank tops and skirts.

"Where do you want to have lunch?," I asked.

"Anywhere with AC," was the reply.

We ducked into the St. Mark's branch of Grand Sichuan and sure enough, there was a generous amount of AC, along with a particularly surly waitress. We ordered quickly just to get her to go away.

We ate about 4 or 5 dishes, but I don't remember any except the dan dan noodles and cold cucumber salad. I remember the dan dan noodles because they were some of the spiciest things I had ever tasted, at that point. I remember the cucumbers because, despite also being spicy, they tamed the heat in my mouth from the dan dan noodles.

I gulped about 4 or 5 glasses of water during the meal. The food was actually pretty good, but I, being a newbie to Sichuan food, couldn't fully appreciate the complexity of the Sichuan peppercorn. Years later, having had many 4-alarm Sichuan meals, I actually miss and crave the mala sensation (numbing spiciness) if I don't eat Sichuan for a week or more.

What to do when you crave meat with a rich-tasting sauce, but not the feeling of heaviness afterwards? One of the tricks all Chinese cooks use for stir-fries is to mix in a little cornstarch. And cornstarch can be used for more Western-style pan sauces too.

A few nights ago I made pork medallions with a raisin ginger sauce. The dish was easy to whip up; just brown the meat, toss it in the oven to roast, and make the pan sauce while you wait. The sauce is the key to this dish, a nice sweet and tangy alternative to the savory sauces that usually go with roast pork.

Pork Medallions with Raisin-Ginger Sauce
Adapted from Food & Wine

Serves 2

1 lb (450 g) pork tenderloin, cut into 4 medallions
Salt and freshly ground pepper
2 teaspoons vegetable oil
1/2 cup (120 ml) apple juice
1/2 cup (120 ml) chicken broth
1 tablespoon soy sauce
3 tablespoons golden raisins
1 teaspoon ginger, freshly grated
1/4 teaspoon cornstarch dissolved in 1 teaspoon of water

Preheat the oven to 350° F (175° C). Season pork with salt and pepper on each side. Heat oil in a large heavy skillet and cook pork over moderately high heat until browned on both sides, about 3 minutes per side. Transfer the pork to a baking pan and roast in the oven for about 7 to 8 minutes, or until the pork is firm when pressed down.