I’ll never forget sitting in Brooklyn at Han’s Dynasty, taking my first bite of Sichuan food. The numbing heat. The way sweet, savory, and spicy collided. It wasn’t just flavor—it was electricity. I was hooked.

For the next six months, while my wife was pregnant, I cooked Sichuan food every day. Mapo tofu. Dry-fried chicken. Smashed cucumber salad. The kind of food that makes your lips buzz and your eyes light up. It became my ritual—my joy. A way to find calm in the chaos of New York.

Our apartment turned into a test kitchen. Chili oil on the stove. Cutting boards stained red. Friends packed into our two-bedroom, bowls in hand, trading laughter for tears of spice. I watched them go from skeptical to obsessed—just like I had.

I cooked like it mattered. Because it did. I didn’t just want to eat those flavors—I wanted to share them. To bottle that feeling. The tingle. The jolt. The “what the hell was that?”

That’s what Electric Ritual is. A snack built to hit like that first bite—sweet, spicy, tingly, unforgettable. The kind that makes your whole body buzz and your brain flicker.

Once you taste it, there’s no going back.