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How To Make: Plaa Thot Khamin and Plaa Krabok Tom Khamin

Today's lesson revolves around two southern Thai dishes, specifically those using khamin, turmeric. This bright orange root, as I've said about 64 times already, is an incredibly popular ingredient in southern Thai cooking, and it is what tends to give these dishes orange/yellow hue. Today's recipes use the stuff both in dried form and fresh; essentially two completely different ingredients. The first, plaa thot khamin, fish fried with tumeric, uses powdered turmeric largely to counter any unpleasant "fishy" smells, and to give the dish an attractive yellow/orange color. The second recipe, plaa krabok tom khamin, mullet in a turmeric broth, uses a generous amount of the fresh stuff to provide a wonderfully acidic/fragrant/sweet flavor to the broth.

For the turmeric fried fish I'm using plaa saay daeng, this fish:

but plaa insee, Spanish mackerel fillets are also common, and very good.

Take about 1/4 cup of garlic (preferably small cloves with a thin peel--don't worry about removing every last bit of peel--you'll soon see why) and smash it up real violent like using a mortar and pestle:

Next, take about an 1/8 cup of rice flour, an 1/8 cup of all-purpose flour, a teaspoon of turmeric power and a teaspoon of salt and mix this up with the garlic in a bowl.

Coat the scaled and gutted fish with this mixture and set aside for 10 minutes:

After the 10 minutes, shake off the excess garlic/flour mixture, reserving all of it (there should be a lot), and fry the fish on both sides in plenty of oil over a medium-high flame:

When the fish is cooked, crispy and yellow, remove and allow to drain. Now put all of the reserved garlic/flour mixture in the same oil and cook until crispy. Ladle this cripy gold over the fish, and serve:

Now, for the mullet (heheh...) in turmeric broth, take a couple small cleaned and gutted mullets:

and chop their heads off. You could even chop the bodies into long-ish bits (as I did) if you prefer.

Bring about three cups of water to a boil. In meantime prepare your broth flavoring ingredients, a couple stalks of lemongrass, some peeled shallots, peeled turmeric and chilies:

Using a pestle or the head of a your nearest loved one, generously bruise two stalks of lemongrass

the shallots and chilies (this helps the flavors to release more easily), and throw all of this into the broth and simmer until the broth is yellow and fragrant, about 2-3 minutes:

Add your mullet (hehehe...) and bring to a gentle boil. Add a few torn kaffir lime leaves. Flavor to taste with fish sauce and lime:

You is done:

(My apologies for the less-than-stellar last pic, it was getting dark and I was hungry!)

Bangkok with Pim

Spent a pleasant couple hours yesterday with Pim, of chez pim fame. She took me to the Tha Phra Chan area, a wonderfully congested part of Old Bangkok that is positively reeking of good eats. Among the things we feasted on were khao chae, a bizarre combination of jasmine-scented rice in ice water and savory tidbits:

Here's another vendor just up the road selling the same thing:

Khao chae is something I didn't care for too much the first time I tried it, but the mixture of sweet and savory is actually quite good, and you can expect to hear more from me about this unique dish in the near future.

Also espied were a right handsome basket of Chinese rose apples:

Some technicolor Thai treats:

And some equally colorful juices:

And this veg, called phak waan:

The fact that I knew the Thai name for this semi-obscure vegetable really freaked the vendor out, and I think she thought I was Thai and Pim was a foreigner!

Came across these:

A kind of crispy roti, a snack I'd never seen before.

And finally, keeping with my Thai Baked Goods theme, an appallingly disgusting-looking baked treat labelled simply as "Thai Pizza":

Don't you always ask for lengthwise-sliced hotdogs, mayonaise, and peas on your Thai pizza?

And for those of you who are wondering what the real Pim looks like (she chooses to hide behind the false safety of a gigantic tea cup at her blog) I'm offering images of Pim in in her home environment for $20 a pop. Contact me for delivery details.

How To Make: (Southern Style) Kaeng Som

Kaeng som is probably the most well known southern dish within Thailand. Kaeng som is actually the name of a similar central Thai dish, so central Thais tend to refer to the southern version as kaeng lueang, or “yellow curry”, because of its color. This is not to be confused with the yellow curry that most foreigners are familiar with, which is a coconut-milk based curry of Indian origin called kaeng karii “curry curry” by Thais. Confused? Good, now we can begin.

Kaeng som (which I will continue to call it here) actually translates as “sour curry”, but the predominate taste is usually that of spicy. Very spicy. I consider this to be probably the spiciest curry in the country (which says a lot in a country of spicy curries!). The curry paste consists of a few simple ingredients, and the soup consists of fish (or other seafood) and typically one kind of vegetable (or fruit). That’s it.

Here are the curry paste ingredients:

Small fresh “bird shit” chilies 25
Small dried chilies 15
Garlic, chopped 6-8 cloves
Fresh turmeric, chopped 1 Tbsp
Salt 1 tsp
Shrimp paste 1 Tbsp

Using a mortar and pestle, smash all of these together very, very finely (it is important to do this well so you won’t happen upon any large bits of chili in your soup!).

The finished curry paste.

Put the curry paste aside and prepare the soup ingredients. Thinly slice sour, slightly unripe pineapple, about 1 cup. Clean and cut some fish into bite-size pieces until you have about 1-1 1/2 cups. I’m using a kind of fish known as plaa kraphong (sorry, can’t recall English name), which is the most common fish used in this dish. I reckon any white-fleshed sea fish will do. Set both of these aside. For your mise en place you’ll need a bottle of fish sauce, 3-4 sliced limes ready for squeezing, and some sugar.

Bring about 3-4 cups of water to the boil, add about half of the curry paste and stir and simmer until the broth is fragrant. Add more curry paste if necessary, but don't add it all at once as it may be too much!

Add the pineapple.

Simmer until it begins to soften, 3-4 minutes, and taste the curry. The pineapple should add a slightly sweet flavor to the broth. If you prefer more of this, add a bit of sugar.

Squeeze a few limes’ worth of lime juice into the broth until you reach a tolerable state of sourness.

Remember, it is called “sour” curry, so there should be a definite sour taste, followed by spicy, salty and sweet. Add some fish sauce if it isn’t salty enough.

Now add your fish.

Simmer until the fish is just done, 2-3 minutes, remove from heat, and you’re done!

Serve with rice.

I like using pineapple in this dish as it adds a wonderful sweet flavor, but a variety of other veggies can be used, including pickled bamboo (very common and extremely sour) or slices of unripe papaya.

The Battle Is Over

Battle of the Khao Soi was a certified success, grossing me hundreds of thousands of dollars in endorsements, critical acclaim in a number of multi-national glossy magazines, and generating literally millions of hits to RealThai. There is talk of a made-for-TV movie, and this morning I was identified in the street four times. However most important is the fact that I continue to maintain my place as the King of Khao Soi. Onigiri and I have reached a truce of sorts and hope to conduct another competition in the near future.

I'll be heading down to southern Thailand, then on to Laos, and will probably not be blogging too much this month as a result. When I do get back however I'll post some juicy pics of southern Thai food.

How To Make: Khao Soi

Battle of the Khao Soi has spilled over into eGullet, which somehow raised concern that the whole thing is being done simply to promote my and Onigiri's respective blogs. This is false for two reasons: 1. You mean, people actually read this stuff? 2. My only goal since birth has been to crush Onigiri and prove once and for all that I possess supreme confidence in my khao soi skills and that she is nothing but a pathetic Thai wannabe wallowing in unrealistic expectations of her culinary ability in a foreign wasteland.

Khao soi is not necessarily difficult to make, but it is time consuming, as it incorporates making a curry (which involves make a curry paste), preparing a great deal of condiments, as well as noodles. Set aside an entire morning for making it (khao soi, for some reason, is never eaten at dinner in Thailand). The recipe below will make enough khao soi for two hungry people.

The khreuang kaeng, or curry paste, is the most important part of a curry. Below are the raw ingredients that will make up my khao soi curry paste:

And a list:
Cha ko (a kind of spice), shelled 1
Coriander (cilantro) seeds 2 Tbsp
Big dried chilies 4-6
Chopped ginger 1 heaping Tbsp
Chopped turmeric 1 heaping Tbsp
Shallots 9
Salt 1 Tbsp
Curry powder 2 tsp

Take each of the curry paste ingredients except for the salt and curry powder, and dry-roast individually until fragrant and browned:

Using a mortar and pestle, combine all of the curry paste ingredients until they result in a fine, thick paste:

This is a long, boring process that will inevitably send pieces of smashed chili flying directly into your eyes. The result is your curry paste. Set it aside.

Now prepare the condiments. First, the chilies in oil: take about 30 or so small dried chilies and dry-roast in the same wok until dark and fragrant but not black and burnt. Grind these up quite finely using a clean dry mortar and pestle. Using the same wok, add 1/4 cup of vegetable oil, heat until just about to smoke, then add the ground chilies and stir until fragrant, but not burnt, about one to two minutes:

Remove to a clean dry heatproof bowl and set aside to cool.

Wash, dry, and coarsely chop cilantro and green onions. Peel and chop about 10 shallots. Drain and coarsely chop the pickled mustard greens. Slice a few limes. Arrange all of these on a dish. These are your condiments:

Now it’s time for the soup. Take about a 3/4 of a cup of thick coconut milk and heat it in a saucepan over medium heat until it starts to bubble and simmer. Add the curry paste ingredients:

Continue stirring until the liquid is reduced considerably, and a film of oil has begun to form:

This may take as long as 10 to 15 minutes. Be patient! This is a very important step and ensures that the oils of the various ingredients will be released, making a more fragrant curry.

When a fair amount of oil has pooled, add your meat, in this case four to six small chicken thighs, and fry in the oily paste for about five minutes:

Take another half cup of thick coconut milk and dilute with about three cups of water. Add this to the saucepan:

Bring to a light boil, turn the heat down as low as possible, and simmer. After about 10 minutes or so, taste the soup and add salt or see ew khao, a kind of soy sauce, or sugar, if necessary.

While the broth is simmering, it’s time to do the noodles. Khao soi noodles, a flat squiggly egg noodle, are notoriously hard to find, even in Thailand. A good substitute is the fresh egg noodles called ba mee. Bring a large pot full of water to a boil, separate the fresh noodles, plunge into the boiling water and boil for about five minutes:

Drain well and set aside in colander (the noodles can be made in advance and quickly re-boiled at eating time, if necessary).

Put a generous serving of the noodles in a bowl, top with one chicken thigh and lotsa broth, and you’re done! How diners choose to flavor their khao soi with condiments is up to them. Personally, I like lots of lime and lots of chili:

So whaddaya got, Onigiri?

How To Make: Kuay Jap Yuan

Kuay jap yuan is acually a Vietnamese dish that was introduced to NE Thailand via Laos. Kuay jap is Chinese for a kind of thick noodle dish, and yuan is a semi-derogatory word for people or things of Vietnamese origin. Not sure what it's called in Vietnamese, perhaps Graham at noodlepie can tell us? In any event, it's a very simple dish to make, and equally delicious.

Two ingredients are essential for this dish: moo yor, a kind of Vietnamese sausage described below, and the fat round sticky-rice noodles particular to this dish. They're sold dried in Thai supermarkets and labelled as "Vietnamese Noodles". The noodles are coated with a layer of flour and are made by being boiled directly in the broth (rather than in separate boiling water, as in most noodle dishes). The flour mixes with the broth and results in a somewhat thick broth. Do NOT use the flat rice noodles, they will not provide this texture.

Again, as with most of my recipes, I'm not big on measurements.

The night before I had made chicken stock and reserved some of boiled chicken meat. I pulled about two litres of the stock out and brought it to a boil, and in the meantime made hom jiaow, crispy fried shallots. This is done by frying about half a cup of thinly-slice shallots in lots of oil over medium-high heat until brown and crispy:

When finished set the hom jiaow on paper towels to absorb oil. Set aside.

Next prepare the remainder of the soup ingredients. Thinly slice half an onion, chop up some green onions, and add them to the boiling broth along with some fish sauce to taste:

Possibly the most important ingredient of kuay jap yuan is a Vietnamese pork sausage called moo yor (moo is Thai for pork, and yor is the Thai pronunciation of the Vietnamese gio). Moo yor is steamed in banana leaves. Unwrap the moo yor:

slice it, and add it, along with the chicken, to the boiling broth:

Let this boil for a few minutes, and in the meantime wash and prepare a platter of fresh herbs: green onion, cilantro, mint, as well as slices of lime and chilis:

These will be served along with the finished noodles.

When the meat is heated through, add the dried noodles:

When the soup reaches a boil again, reduce the heat and let simmer until the noodles are done, about 5-7 minutes. Taste the noodles to see if they're done, and taste the flavor of the broth again:

Serve in bowls sprinkled with the hom jiaow, add the fresh herbs of your choice, mix:

And eat:

Battle of the Khao Soi

My thread on Thai noodles at eGullet has generated a considerable amount of interest in, uh…Thai noodles, especially khao soi. Worked up by all of this, culinary bad-ass, Onigiri has been doing a lot of behind the scenes trash talking saying that there’s no way a white guy can make good khao soi, even if he does live in Thailand. I say there’s no way anybody in Iowa, even if she is Thai, can make a good one. So before this verbal war escalates any further we’ve decided to have a Battle of the Khao Soi. I’m going to buy the ingredients Saturday, make the khao soi on Sunday, and post the results here afterwards. She’s going to do the same and post her results as well. Obviously as there’s no way to judge this, it's only fair that I declare myself winner in advance. As consolation I plan to send Onigiri a Jumbo Sausage Roll.

The Magical World of Thai Baked Goods

Today we're going to continue our education in bizarre Siamese baked treats by touching on another cornerstone of the oeuvre: hot dogs. Somehow Thai "bakers" have found a way to make these missiles of reject meat even less attractive than they already are. Take this example, titled Jumbo Sausage Roll (heheh) and purchased at the local Tesco/Lotus:

Like most of this genre, the hot dog is displayed prominently on top of the bread. I think this is a bragging point, with the roll suggesting "Hey there! Look at me, I'm no regular, run-of-the-mill roll! I have a hot dog!" As far as I can approximate, attempts were made to make the Jumbo Sausage Roll resemble a pizza; the red streaks are some sort of ketchup-related product, the mucuous-like liquid generously slathered over the hot dog is supposed to approximate cheese, and the whole thing is sprinkled with dried oregano.

I gave the whole thing to our neighborhood dog, who just sort of stared at it. After a few minutes, when I went back outside to get my camera, he still hadn't touched it. I think that says something.

Khao Soi

Yeah, that's right: khao soi. Those of you not prepared to go one-on-one with the deliciousliest Thai dish of all should probably leave. OK. Now we're alone, and I can let you in on a secret: khao soi is not even Thai. This famous northern speciality is probably an amalgam of Burmese/Shan and Chinese-Muslim cooking styles. The word khao soi, which doesn't really mean anything in Thai, probably comes from the Burmese khauk-hswe, which means simply "noodles". Unlike most Thai noodle dishes, the broth is made with coconut milk, very similar to a dish still eaten today in Shan State Burma called ohn no khauk-hswe. It seems likely that Chinese-Muslim traders brought ohn no khauk-hswe to Thailand, and added the spices they were so fond of.

OK, enough freaking history. Now it's time to face the khao soi:

Don't try to deny its power, look at it, stare at it, let it take you in:

Khao soi uses flat egg noodles, some of which are deep-fried and used as a topping. To cut through the general oiliness of the dish, khao soi is accompanied by a dish of acidic condiments such as sliced shallots, slices of lime, and pickled cabbage, as seen below:

This is Noel in a bout of khao soi-induced madness trying to intimidate the noodles:

Unfortunately this photo doesn't show the fear in his eyes.

The bowl above was consumed at Khao Soi Lam Duan in Chiang Mai, probably the best and most famous khao soi place in Thailand. The owner claims that her mother actually invented the dish, but this seems very unlikely. Unlike most Thai dishes, khao soi is usually only served with chicken or beef, which also seems to verify its Muslim origins.

Phat Thai

Today's lunch was taken at the venerable Or Tor Kor Market, Bangkok's finest. In a bout of indecision I decided to order phat thai. Despite the mad popularity of this stuff in the US, it doesn't really seem to be all that popular in Bangkok, and I rarely eat it.

I do like it though, but have only made it myself once or twice. Phat thai is not a difficult dish to make, but it does require a certain amount of skill (otherwise the noodles tend to ball up into a sticky mess!), and is easiest done in a large flat skillet, as shown below, although some people do prefer to use a deep wok. The phat thai below is called phat thai hor khai, "phat thai wrapped in an egg", and is my favorite type. To illustrate how it's done I tried to capture each "step" below.

The first step involves frying bits of firm tofu, chopped shallots, dried shrimp and dried preserved radish:

Next involves taking the rice noodles, which have been pre-softened in a sauce that usually consists of fish sauce, tamarind and sugar, and frying them with the other ingredients:

After this some bean sprouts and a kind of crisp green onion are added:

The mixture is then pushed to the side of the pan and a couple beaten eggs are added:

The egg is spread thin and when it has solidified a bit the noodle mixture is heaped on top:

The egg is then wrapped around the noodle mixture to form a "package" of sorts:

And we're done:

Phat thai is always served with additional sprouts, green onions, as well as a slice of lime and banana flower. The phat thai above was a special deal fried with oysters and mussels. Not bad, but in this case, very, very oily!

The Food of Mae Hong Son

I spent last week in Mae Hong Son province, by far my favorite place in Thailand. Mae Hong Son borders Myanmar (Burma) in the far northwest of the country, and is extremely mountainous and remote. The province is home many Shan or Thai Yai, a group of people who are today mostly found in Myanmar, but who are actually of the same ethno-linguistic group as the Thai. The Thai Yai have had a large influence on the cuisine of Mae Hong Son, which is a combination of Shan and northern Thai cooking. Mae Hong Son is certainly not a culinary destination, but the food is unlike anywhere else in Thailand, and Mae Hong Son is probably my favorite province to eat in. The staple food of most northern Thais is khao niaow, sticky rice, which in Mae Hong Son is dished up "to go" in bai tong tueng, the leaf of a type of teak tree:

One of the most famous northern Thai dishes is a curry-and-noodle dish called khao soi. The true origin of the dish is unknown, but it is thought to be a Shan dish brought to northern Thailand from Myanmar by Muslim traders, and is today available in virtually every town in Mae Hong Son:

Shan food is similar to Burmese in that it relies on thick, oily curries and some dried spices, in particular turmeric. An important Shan staple is tomatoes, especially the tiny, sour ones known as makhuea som:

These tomatoes are used in a northern style chili paste of Shan origin known as nam phrik ong. The chili paste is served with veggies and deep-fried pork crackling, and resembles a thick spaghetti sauce:

Another staple of Mae Hong Son is thua nao, disks of dried and compressed soybeans, used much the same way as shrimp paste is in the rest of Thailand :

Northern Thai food relies on a great deal of vegetables, probably more than with other Thai regional cuisines. A very common vegetable is phak kaat jor, often used in stews:

The northern Thai love for veggies extends to some unusual ingredients, such as the flowers below, called dok khaan, and seen in the evening market in Pai:

and which were evident in the yam below:

Veggies are so important to northern Thai cooking that at fresh markets they are sold pre-cut and portioned for use in curries, such as the ingredients for kaeng om:

and the ingredients for kaeng khanun, a curry of young jackfruit:

Simply buy or make the appropriate curry paste, some meat, and add these and the veggies to boiling water, and you have a curry!
Northern people also like grilled foods, such as aep, curry paste and meat, wrapped in banana leaves and grilled:

And finally, a pic of the evening market in front of the Burmese-style temple of the city of Mae Hong Son:

This is just an appetizer. In the coming days I'll share the deliciousness by making a few Mae Hong Son/northern Thai dishes.

The Magical World of Thai Baked Goods

The photo below is a response to this thread at eGullet concerning Thai bread. Bread is not, of course, a staple food for Thai people, but it is very popular nonetheless. Normally the Thais are brilliant at taking foods from other cultures and integrating them into their own cuisine in delicious ways, but with bread, something went wrong. Very wrong. This wrong (WARNING. The following contains graphic images of disgusting bread!):

The bread above was labelled as Deluxe Floss (heh heh) and was purchased at the brand new Siam Paragon branch of Bread Talk (heh heh). Floss refers to the topping of sweet, golden fluffy strands of pork (heh heh), and is a very popular topping for Thai baked goods. I'm not sure where they got this idea. One imagines they should probably abandon it. The bread, as with the majority of its genre, is so soft it makes Wonder Bread look like a pain poilane and it is painfully sweet with a disturbing oily sheen.

I think Deluxe Floss is a good place to our journey through the Magical World of Thai Baked Goods, and in future installments I will touch on the use of cheap hot dogs, sweetened condensed milk, and mayonaise.

Fish Sauce Rules

Fish sauce, that essential SE Asian condiment, has been getting some bad press at eGullet lately. In an effort to put an end to this vicious rumor-mongering and reveal the truth behind fish sauce that the Man doesn't want you to know, I thought I would describe what goes into making the stuff. I wrote a piece about fish sauce for a magazine here in Bangkok a while back and was able to visit a fish sauce factory in Chonburi and see first hand how it is made. The pics and info are taken from that piece, which will be printed in the Bangkok Post supplement themagazine early next year. And no, even after doing this, I can't deny that fish sauce stinks, but it is a pure product with an interesting history.

Fish sauce begins with freshly-caught anchovy-like fish from the Gulf of Thailand:

Virtually as soon as they are brought to land, the fish are then sucked up into a giant machine that grinds them up with equal parts salt. This muck is then transferred to deep cement vats:

where they are left for about a year. During this time, the salt draws moisture from the fish, which rises to the top and is essentially fish sauce in its raw form:

After a year the liquid is transferred to large holding tanks:

Depending on the brand, a small amount of sugar might also be added at this point (Thai people prefer a slightly sweet, caramel-colored fish sauce), then the fish sauce is filtered three times and bottled:

Interestingly, at no point is the fish sauce pasteurized or subjected to preservatives; the stuff is so salty that bacteria or other nasties can't survive in it. This product is now known as nam plaa thae, Grade A fish sauce:

Lesser quality, nam plaa prasom, or "mixed" fish sauces are made by adding water to the solids left in the vats aftet the production of Grade A fish sauce. This fish sauce contains less protein, and is sometimes full of artificial colorings, MSG, and preservatives to make up for the lack of natural flavor. Oddly enough, it is this stuff that one finds most often in Asian food stores in the US, at least in my experience. This might be the reason that people in the US find fish sauce so revolting?

So now that you know what goes into it, what do you do with it? Well if you're not already aware, fish sauce is used in pretty much the same way that salt is used in the West. One of the most delicious and simple dishes to make with fish sauce is nam plaa phrik, the Thai equivalent of a salt shaker. Take three or four tablespoons of Grade A fish sauce and add two or three (or more if you like) very thinly-sliced Thai chilies, a clove of thinly-sliced garlic, and a squeeze of lime. Put all this in a small shallow dish and sprinkle over bland tasting food.

Kwaytiao Khae

Today for lunch I had a fat bowl of the unpronounceable Thai-Chinese noodles mentioned above. I used to be anti-noodles, but lately I've been trying some of the noodles I've avoided in the past and am actually liking them. (I'm still convinced, however, that Thailand's noodle dishes are the weakest in Asia! I'd much rather have a good Burmese mohinga, a Lao pho, or virtually any noodle dish in China--especially those of Yunnanese or Szechuan origin.) Kwaytiao Khae is a simple noodle dish, but is somewhat hard to find here. It's basically a bland, clear broth served with rice noodles and a variety of southern Chinese-style pork, shrimp and fish balls:

The shop is really close to my house, and the owners are nice people who look more Chinese than Thai! The soft noodles are dipped in the boiling broth before being added to the soup:

There are a great variety of noodle dishes in Thailand, but the majority are eaten with the same repertoire of condiments: dried chilies, fresh chilies in vinegar, sugar, fish sauce and ground white pepper:

Norng Paeng is eating the extremely-popular-in-Bangkok dish, yen taa fo. It's pretty much the same as kwaytiao khae except that the broth is red from the addition of a kind of soy bean product, and it is served with parboiled morning glory, an acquatic vegetable popular in central Thailand:

Kaeng Hang Lay

Been busy editing photos for an upcoming revamp of my website and haven't had too much time to blog... Feel bad about this, so as recompense I'm pulling out an indiscriminate piece of food porn from the vault:

This is my friend, Kaeng Hang Lay. He is a northern Thai style curry that probably came to Thailand via Burma (hin means curry in Burmese). The curry uses a cut of pork that Thais call moo saam chan, "three-level pork", as it has meat, fat and skin. The pork is fried in really simple Burmese-style curry paste (chilies, ginger, shallots, garlic and thua nao khep, soybeans that have been dried and flattened into disks), which being Burmese, also includes dried spices (a "hang lay" mixture of dried spices is available in northern Thailand). The curry is commonly eaten as a communal dish at festivals in northern Thailand, especially among the Shan ethnic group. The flavour of the curry is savory and sour (from the addition of tamarind), and is actually quite similar to an extremely rich American barbeque sauce. I'll be eating kaeng hang leh really soon as I'm heading up to Mae Hong Son province in northern Thailand on Monday! So I won't be blogging next week, but I will, of course, come back with lots of pics and info on northern Thai food to share with everybody.

We like Sophie

Not exactly on the topic of Thai food, but I had a lovely lunch today with Sophie, keeper of this blog, author of many, many cookbooks, and a lady with enough connections to get us a free multi-course meal at D'Sens! (Actually, I'm exaggerating Sophie's powers here. I had already made an apointment with the hotel's PR rep. for an article I'm writing. But Sophie does know the chef at D'Sens and at the last minute was able to wrangle herself a free meal as well, which, you have to admit, is pretty cool too.) In addition to all this, Sophie had a camera (I...uh, didn't...) and took some photos of our lunch including this below, which, if I remember correctly, was something to do with sea urchin:

Sophie was also kind enough to take me to a previously unknown French butcher shop off of Soi Convent, where I bought some extremely tasty pate for tonight's dinner. Good job Sophie! We like Sophie here at RealThai. Someday we might even consider making her one of Us.

How To Make: Yam

In my first post I mentioned yam a kind of spicy/sour Thai salad, so I wanted to follow up and give a recipe and description here. Yam are very common in Thailand, and probably the easiest of all Thai dishes to make. A yam, along with some sort of fried dish, and a soup or curry, is one part of a "complete" Thai meal. Yam are also wonderful on their own as kap klaem, drinking accompaniments. As mentioned before, all you really need to make yam is some sort of protein, this can range from seafood (yam thale is a mix of parboiled shrimp, squid or any other other seafood handy), to grilled meat, or for vegetarians, tofu. You then add some veggies, typically kheun chai, or Chinese parsley, for which celery tops are an excellent substitute, thinly sliced shallots or onions, slices of tomato and smashed up chilies. The final and most important ingredient is the dressing. Yam dressing is a simple yet powerful combination of lime juice, fish sauce, and sugar.

For today's yam my protein will be tao hoo plaa, "fish tofu", a disturbing-sounding but tasty mixture of fish and tofu in user-friendly cubes. As you'll see below, I'm not real specific about the amounts of the ingredients for the dressing because Thais are not specific about them either. It's all done to taste. You'll want a favorable mixture of spicy (from the chilies), sour (from the lime), sweet (sugar) and salty (from the fish sauce). When I say favorable that means you make it the way you like it. Personally, I don't like sweet, so I use very little or no sugar, and tend to boost the sour and spicy. In Thailand, this dish is made using the small, very spicy chilies called phrik khii nuu ("mouse shit chilies). Here's a photo of all the ingredients in the early stages of the operation:

Ingredients:
protein
1 bunch kheun chai (Chinese parsely, or celery tops)
1 or 2 tomatoes
4 shallots (or half a small onion)
chilies to taste
fish sauce
2 limes
sugar

Prepare your protein as necessary. This can mean par-boiling your seafood for about a minute, or grilling a steak and slicing it up. As I'm using tao hoo plaa it's necessary to fry it and halve it first. Set aside. Roughly chop up your kheun chai. Removing the seeds first, slice your tomatoes. Thinly slice the shallots. Put all of this in a large plastic or glass bowl that you will later use to mix and taste the yam before serving it.

Roughly chop your chilis, and then using the side of a wide knife, smash and grind them, and chop a bit more, or, as seen below, use a mortar and pestle:

Now it's dressing time. Halve the limes and squeeze the juice of one about one lime into a bowl. Follow this up with a splash of fish sauce, and a pinch of sugar. Mix well, and taste:

Is it not sour enough? Add more lime. Is it too salty? You screwed up and there's no hope for you now nor never you pathetic loser. Or, you could just add more sugar to cover up the saltiness. And so on. When the taste is right, mix the dressing with the ingredients,

and dump the whole mess onto a serving dish and you're done.

I'm so proud of you.

Bangkok B&W Episode 2

My second photographic journey into the bowels of Bangkok was again to the vibrant Silom area, about three weeks ago.

There are several blind musicians along Silom during weekday mornings.

Not sure if this vendor wanter her photo taken.

This boy was pulling his blind father on a leash.

A busy and bizarre storefront, Silom Road.

Can you find the vendor here?

More on Southern Thai Food: Khanom Jeen

For today's lunch I went to a restaurant near my home in Bangkok that specializes in southern Thai-style khanom jeen. Khanom jeen are fresh noodles made from fermented rice, and are usually served with some sort of a curry/sauce and a fat tray of fresh veggies as illustrated below:

Khanom jeen are available all over the country, but are probably most associated with southern Thai cooking. Today I had khanom jeen with kaeng tai plaa, "fish kidney curry". It's a southern dish that is made from highly salted, preserved fish kidneys, an ingredient I'm sure that, after having made its debut here at RealThai, will be very much in demand this coming year. As far as I can tell, the fish kidneys only impart an extremely salty taste; unfortunately there seems to be little of that desireable fish gut flavor that everybody's been raving about lately. The curry is probably one of the spiciest in Thailand, and is topped up with grilled fish torn into pieces. In southern Thailand the curry usually consists simply of the sauce and fish, while in Bangkok, pickled bamboo, green beans, "wing beans", Thai eggplants and pumpkin are often added. My favorite variant includes jackfruit seeds or cashews. Here is the artfully garnished dish before I crammed it into my greedy gob: