When torrential floods swallowed the suburbs of Brisbane in 2017, construction project manager Lisa Liu found herself at an unexpected crossroads. Her neighbourhood had lost power and her home was the only place on the street with storm-proof back-up generators. So, she did what any pragmatic cook would do – fired up the stove, threw open her doors and welcomed any neighbours trying to save their rapidly expiring produce. By nightfall, her kitchen became a refuge of laughter, bubbling condiments and a few batches of chilli oil. Amongst the chaos, a neighbour half-jokingly called Lisa “a saucy wench”, and the nickname stuck.
The flood party fuelled a new life chapter that Lisa didn’t see coming. She started by running $10 dumpling-making classes at a neighbour’s home. It was in those early sessions that the side condiment, a family chilli oil inspired by her Chinese-Malaysian grandmother from Petaling Jaya, became the star of the show. Students loved the chilli oil so much, they begged to take jars home.
Her grandmother’s recipe was distinct in a world where the trend of chilli oil was exploding. Built on aromatic principles of slowly caramelised onion, garlic, peanuts and a trinity of chillies – red cayenne for fruitiness, Thai prik bon for smoke and heat, a layer of Sichuan peppercorns for a numbing tingle and “a little gula melaka – smoked palm sugar, to bring out the sweetness of the caramelised onions and complement the smokiness”, Lisa shares.
On what makes her chilli oil special, Liu says, “A lot of chilli oils fry the dried ingredients to increase crunch, they push it to the edge so it tastes slightly burnt and bitter. I want layered aromatics, not one-note char.”
Liu's chilli oil is unapologetically spicy.
One of Liu’s core food philosophies draws on the concept of the ‘revenge cook’, or a desire to maintain authenticity and high standards behind culinary creation and it sits behind that moment when you taste a dish that you’ve been craving – only to be let down by a disappointing version. The disappointment fuels a deep desire to do it correctly, or as she calls it, ‘revenge cook’ it. Echoing the concepts behind revenge scrolling or bedtime procrastination, it’s reclaiming what was lost by doing what you love on your own terms.
Her six aunties, affectionately known as the Dumpling Dollies, live by this principle. “They’ll walk into work and say, “today I must revenge cook sweet and sour pork,” Liu laughs. “And the dish they’ll be revenging will be the best you’ve ever tasted – because it’s fuelled by passion.” That same principle is the fire that guided Liu as she perfected her chilli oil, ensuring it stayed authentic, soulful and unmistakeably hers.
That defiance shows up in her choice to make her chilli oil unapologetically spicy. Liu insists that chilli oil should feel alive: “chilli oil shouldn’t be just a ruby sheen dressing on your dishes”, she explains, “it should also be a sensory experience.”
Liu and her Saucy Wench products.
Despite her background in construction, Liu resists structure in business. Her advice is “No business plan, I just focus on the next immediate step.” That spontaneity has served her well: The Saucy Wench’s range now includes award-winning sauces and dressings, with her garlic-and-shallot vinaigrette winning gold and “Best in Class” at the 2024 Melbourne Royal Australian Food Awards. Her signature chilli oil took silver at the Sydney Royal and bronze at the Melbourne Royal this year. Her satay sauce has such a cult following that one customer ordered twelve jars at once.
Her secret ingredient? Cold-pressed peanut oil from Kingaroy, Queensland. “Seed oils aren’t evil,” she clarifies. “It’s how they’re processed that ruins them. The peanut oil we use is cold-pressed, just like olive oil.” Once, she swapped out the peanut oil for a neutral oil for an allergen-friendly event and loyal customers immediately noticed. “They said – it doesn’t taste as good. They were right.”
