ThaiDay: Gourmandise in a grotto

Gourmandise in a grotto (ThaiDay, 30/03/06)
Enjoy upscale Chinese in a subterranean eatery at Siam Paragon.

Why is it that restaurants feel a need to intimidate us? Take for example the entranceway of the new Crystal Jade Restaurant in the basement of Siam Paragon. Perhaps its design is based on some ancient method of feng shui meant to deter less wealthy diners, but this dark, towering cavern doesn’t exactly say Come, dine with us! Meeting with some friends for the purpose of this review, we met in front of the restaurant at 5:00 on a Saturday afternoon, only to find the place seemingly closed. Given the day and time, we knew the restaurant had to be open, however, I was the only one who dared ventured down the intimidating, cave-like hallway. Wishing I had brought carabeeners and some rope, I plunged in and was eventually able to find somebody who told me that the restaurant didn’t open until 5:30, but that we were welcome to come inside.

My first experience with this Singaporean chain of restaurants was at the somewhat less frightening but preposterously named Crystal Jade La Mian Xiao Long Bao at the Erawan Bangkok. At this informal restaurant, dough is slapped, twisted, pulled and stretched before one’s eyes into what must be some of the most delicious Chinese-style noodle dishes in Bangkok. The atmosphere here is bright and friendly, and to date it’s the only place in town where I’m willing to pay 150 baht for a bowl of noodles. The latest Crystal Jade enterprise specializes in Cantonese cuisine and is a more formal effort: lotsa glass, lotsa bottles of wine, and numerous tanks of semi-live seafood—no kitchen views or slaphappy doughboys here.

We cowered into the lofty but empty marble-and-glass dining room, and took our seats around an immense round table. Our waitress was from Singapore and couldn’t speak Thai, and when asked for her recommendations, did her best to steer us towards some of the pricier dishes (“Do you like lobster?”). I abstained, and dove directly into the interesting list of appetizers: The crispy eel (170 baht) lived up to its name on both fronts, and was coated with a dark sauce suggesting the brininess of soy sauce and the sweetness of tomatoes The smoked pig shank and jellyfish (180 baht) was a bewilderingly bizarre combination on paper that somehow worked well in reality, coupling chilled slices of stuffed pig’s trotter with chilled preserved strips of jellyfish. The crispy beancurd with pepper and salt (130 baht) was no more or less than the name suggests, but reminded me of how delicious simple ingredients can be when prepared the right way.


The crispy fried eel.

My dining companions chose the entrees, and the highlight of these was without a doubt the sautéed pork collar with XO sauce (285 baht). The Chinese rightly appreciate fatty cuts of meat, and the paper-thin slices of pork neck were flash fried with chunks of celery and just enough dried chili to rise above the XO sauce (a Chinese flavoring sauce—not the brandy) to make the dish stand out from the others.


The pork collar in XO sauce.

Similar in form but not in flavor was sautéed sliced beef with mixed mushrooms (220 baht). The beef was almost ridiculously melt-in-your-mouth tender, but the presence of gelatinous oyster sauce—also evident in some of the other dishes we had ordered—was tedious. Indeed, maybe it was our bad luck in ordering, but much of the food seemed to be of the sticky stir-fry, slimy soup variety that Chinese restaurants outside of China seem incapable of moving away from.


Chinese broccoli in oyster sauce.

Smartly avoiding the cornstarch altogether was the excellent steamed garoupa (100 baht/100g), which was just barely cooked, and served with a silky-smooth broth swimming with scallions and laced with hints of sesame oil. We also ordered a few soups, including the “Sichuan” hot and sour soup (120 baht) and the crab claw, bamboo fungus and vegetable soup (200 baht), both again, of the slightly slimy variety, the latter being of the extremely flavorless variety.

Due to the fact that there weren’t many diners, and perhaps realizing that I was doing a restaurant review, there were at least four service staff at our command at all times. This meant that, in the tradition of good Thai service, we were kept thoroughly watered. In the course of our one-hour meal, I consumed enough tea to put the Chinese National Mah Jongg Team to shame.

In the end, our meal certainly did not turn out to be the intimidating experience that we feared, but rather, somehow oddly familiar. The food was probably better than average, but seemed for the most part to be the same dishes we’ve all seen before, but in a sleeker package. Maybe it’s got something to do with the feng shui?

Crystal Jade Restaurant
Street Level, Siam Paragon
02 129 4343

ThaiDay: Eating with the neighbors

Eating with the neighbors (ThaiDay, 30/03/06)
Explore the largley unknown landscape of Burmese cuisine.

Although the two countries share a long border, a similar religion, and a great deal of history, the relationship between Thailand and Myanmar (Burma) would not be described as amicable. Much of the two countries’ mutual history is one of conflict rather than cooperation, and though some elements of Burmese culture have entered Thailand, the country’s culinary traditions are not one of them. Ask an average Thai what a Burmese eats and you will undoubtedly get a blank stare. Actually, ask just about anybody outside of Myanmar what the Burmese eat, and you will probably get a blank stare. Myanmar’s cuisine, like many other aspects of this secluded country, is largely a mystery to the outside world.

Myanmar cooking, like Thai and the majority of cuisines in the region, is a rice-based cuisine. Rice is seen as the centerpiece of a meal, and other dishes, most commonly curries and soups, are regarded as accompaniments to the rice. Due to the country’s location between Thailand and Bangladesh, Myanmar cuisine is a mixture of South and Southeast Asian cooking styles and ingredients, integrating the dried spices and lentil soups of the subcontinent, and the fish-and-fresh-herbs cuisines of its neighbors to the east. In theory this would seem to imply a vibrant, exotic cuisine, but factors such as poverty, international isolation, and conflict have not allowed the Myanmar food to progress, as has been the case in India or Thailand. Nowadays, food in Myanmar is often more about subsistence than indulgence.


A coconut milk-based noodle dish similar to the thai dish 'khao soi'.

This doesn’t mean that Burmese food is bad though. At its best Myanmar cooking is hearty, savory and comforting, the same attributes one would attribute to say, Portuguese cuisine. At the opposite extreme, the food can be salty, heavy, and most of all, extraordinarily oily. Curries, a staple of Myanmar cooking, are often served with a thick layer of bright red oil, and this oiliness is usually the first thing that visitors to Myanmar notice about the food. In general however, sour and salty flavors predominate Myanmar cuisine, and the food is significantly more mild that that of Thailand or even India.

If all of this isn’t too off-putting, and you’re willing to try something new, there is a corner of Bangkok where one can sample authentic Burmese cooking. Soi ABAC, off of Ramkhamhaeng Soi 24, is a virtual mini-Yangon, and is home to many Burmese immigrants as well as four restaurants serving a variety of authentic Burmese dishes.


Daw Nwe, a respected Burmese chef, cooking at her restaurant in the Ramkhamhaeng area.

I visit Soi ABAC on a Saturday with my former Myanmar language teacher, Daw Than Than Myint, and Burmese student and Myanmar food aficionado, John Parker. We begin our meal at Daw Nwe’s (as is the case in Myanmar, the shops generally don’t have names per se, and are typically named after the owner/cook), according to Daw Than Than Myint, the best Burmese restaurant in the area. When we arrive Daw Nwe had actually closed shop, and was in the process of single handedly preparing a meal for several hundred people for a funeral the next day, but was kind enough to prepare a few bowls of ohn no hkauk hswe for us. This coconut milk-based noodle dish is thought to be the basis for the northern Thai dish, khao soi, and is served every Saturday at Daw Nwe’s restaurant. Served with condiments of sliced limes, sliced shallots, boiled egg, and crispy deep-fried vegetables known as a kyaw, ohn no hkauk hswe is savory but not heavy, and like most Burmese food is mild rather than spicy.

With Daw Than Than Myint acting as a translator, I ask Daw Nwe about Myanmar food, in particular, why Myanmar curries tend to be so oily. “We feel that if we invite a guest or donate food, and the curry isn’t oily, you’ll look stingy,” she explains. I ask her if the Burmese feel that the liberal use of oil contributes to the taste. “When you compare bland food with oily food, the oily food tastes better,” she says. “The oil helps the flavors to mix and taste rich.” For those willing to try more Burmese specialties, on Wednesday and Saturday Daw Nwe makes mohinga, a noodle dish often regarded as Myanmar’s national dish, and on Thursday is dan bauk, the Burmese version of khao mok or briyani.

Across from Daw Nwe’s is Ma Hlaing’s , a good example of the kind of rice and curry shop that one can find all over Myanmar. Inside, a glass case displays a selection of meat and fish-based curries, soups and thoke, Burmese-style “salads” similar to Thai yam. I choose the ma kyi ywet thoke, a salad of tender tamarind leaves. The dish is pleasantly tart from the tamarind leaves but savory from the garlic-infused peanut oil used to bind almost all thoke. I also order a bowl of nga phe lon hin, fish ball curry, a dish I have enjoyed many times in Myanmar. Unlike Thai fish balls, which often have a manufactured taste and texture, Myanmar nga phe lon are made by hand using fresh fish, and are soft and generously flavored with garlic, ginger and other fresh herbs. The fish balls are fried and are served in a oily curry that should be eaten with rice. Ma Hlaing also serves ngapi ye, a potent Myanmar-style “dip” served with rice and fresh vegetables, a dish provided free of charge by virtually all curry shops in Myanmar.

From Ma Hlaing’s we head further down the soi to Ma Che Ma Cho Sain (“Mrs Love and Mrs Sweet’s Shop”). This is another typical rice and curry shop, this time serving a few Myanmar regional dishes. Daw Than Than Myint urges me to try wetha ne ponyegyi, pork sautéed in a paste made from soybeans, a specialty of the Pagan area. The dark appearance of the dish is off-putting, however, the earthy, concentrated taste of the bean paste is not entirely unpleasant. I follow this dish with chin baung ne hmit chin ye, a sour broth of bamboo shoots and roselle leaves. This dish is another favorite of Myanmar curry shops, and features prominent sour and salty flavors and well-cooked vegetables. As we eat, Myanmar music videos play in the background, providing an appropriate soundtrack for our culinary expedition.


A fragrant curry of homemade fish balls at Ma Hlaing's Burmese restaurant.

Our last stop is at the restaurant run by Ko Tayo (“Mr China”), a Myanmar of Indian descent. Ko Tayo serves Indian and Nepalese-influenced Myanmar dishes, and like many of the restaurants in the area, has a small selection of Myanmar food products, cosmetics, and herbal medicines for sale. Having already eaten at three restaurants, my companions are only interested in shopping at this point, and I take the opportunity to order a cup of lephet ye, Burmese tea. The sweet taste of the tea, the bubbly sound of Burmese conversation and the smells of Myanmar food make me feel like I’m back in Yangon—until I remember that I was never very far away to begin with.

To reach the restaurants, go down Soi ABAC past the entrance of the university until you reach a residential area and the first four-way intersection; the restaurants are all located within a short distance of this intersection and are easily recognizable by their Burmese-language signs out front.

Michelin Star Mania

This month there are no fewer than 10 chefs from Michelin-starred restaurants visiting Bangkok. I'm doing a piece on this for ThaiDay and have been fortunate enough to taste the food of, and meet a few of these guys: Jacques and Lourent Pourcel, Gerald Passedat, Pierre Gagnaire, and David Thompson. This being RealThai, the most interesting of these for me was obviously meeting David Thompson, chef of Nahm, the only Michelin-starred Thai restaurant in existence, and the author of the big, fat book Thai Food. Mr Thompson was lovely, as well as extremely knowledgable about Thai food, and we spent a pleasant hour mostly talking about regional Thai dishes. Mr. Thompson also offered some invaluable advice for those of you trying your best to make your name known in the restaurant world and earn that elusive Michelin star: sleep with the reviewer.

The Magical World of Thai Baked Goods

Today's journey through the world of bizarre Thai bread takes us to the local Yamazaki to visit our friend, Banana Ham Bun. Hey, there he is, say cheese!

As far as I can tell--and I actually tasted this one--Banana Ham Bun's only connection to banana is its shape. The inside is filled with a slice of luncheon meat ham, and the top coated with a generous layer of "cheese", as this close up reveals:

However, the thing that shocked me most about the Banana Ham Bun (other than the appalingly bad concept and lack of any banana flavour) was its greasiness. I normally try to handle these breads as little as possible, but in the course of actually consuming a small bit of this one, I actually had to touch it, and my fingers were almost instantly coated with gratuitous Banana Bun grease...

Phik 101: A Thai Chili Primer

Thai chilies

There have been some interesting questions at eGullet lately regarding the different chilies used in Thai cooking. This is by no means an exhaustive list of all the chilies used in Thailand, but the five below are by far the most commonly used. I've tried to describe what they look like, how they're used, and their spiciness.

The most commonly used chilies in Thailand are undoubtedly phrik khii noo, literally, "mouse dropping chilies":

These are generally also the hottest chilies in Thailand, and can range from tiny in size (as pictured above), to almost 2-3 time the length shown above. They are used in almost every conceivable way: ground up in curry pastes, smashed up and added to stir fries, smashed up and added to soups or salads, or used in nam phrik, Thai-style "dips". Dried phrik khii noo are used in curry pastes to add a spicy taste.

Another common kind of chili are phrik chii faa, literally, "pointing at the sky chilies", apparently for the way they grow:

Phrik chii faa generally range from mild to slightly spicy, and come in three colors: green, red, and orange. They are most commonly used as a garnish. They can be sliced into rings and preserved in vinegar as a condiment for noodle dishes, or sliced or julienned and used to garnish curries such as kaeng phanaeng. Sometimes they are used fresh in curry pastes, but this is generally to add color or body, rather than spiciness.

Phrik chii faa are also dried:

Dried phrik chii faa are an essential ingredient in most curry pastes, and provide red color and body, although, as mentioned above, not a lot of spice.

Another chile that is most commonly used as a garnish are phrik yuak:

These are usually mild, and are almost always the pale green color shown above. Sliced, they can garnish a variety of dishes, and are especially popular in Thai Muslim cuisine, where they are somtimes stuffed with fish and steamed or boiled.

Phrik karieng:

can at times be the spiciest Thai chilies of all. They are recognized by their yellow and orange colors (although they are normally somewhat shorter than the ones shown above). They are eaten fresh in some northern and northeastern Thai dishes, but are more commonly dried:

and ground up to be taken as a conidment with noodle dishes.

Phrik num:

are almost exclusively associated with the northern Thai dish, nam phrik num. This dish sees the chilies grilled along with shallots, garlic and tomatoes, and then pounded together into a spicy "dip". The chilies are typically longer than phrik chii faa, and can range in spice from hot to very hot. In northern Thailand, they are often a darker shade of green than shown above.

And finally we have bell peppers, or phrik yak ("giant chilies"):

These are virtually only used in stir-fried dishes of chinese origin, and are very mild.

ThaiDay: Introductory course

Introductory Course (ThaiDay, 23/03/06)
One outstanding restaurant is Thai Food 101 for those looking for an overview of the cuisine.

I hadn’t eaten at Hualamphong Food Station for years, and had been meaning to include the restaurant in an article I was writing. Somewhat grudgingly (the restaurant was never easy to find the best of times) I set off to relocate it in the maze that is Sukhumvit Soi 34, but after 40 minutes of searching, came up empty-handed. After trying unsuccessfully to call the restaurant for directions, I went back another day, only to meet the same fate. It wasn’t until long after I had given up hope in ever having another meal at Hualamphong Food Station that I noticed that the restaurant had relocated virtually across the street from my house. And when I say relocated, I really mean it; the various wooden structures that previously formed the restaurant had been taken apart, moved across town, and reassembled at their present location alongside the Kaset-Nawamin Road.

I’m certainly not the only one who has had a hard time located Hualamphong Food Station. Over the years, many a visiting foodie and even a significant number of long-term Bangkok residents have undoubtedly had the pleasure of getting lost on the way to the restaurant. The leafy, rambling assortment of wooden buildings was one of Bangkok’s best-kept “secrets”, and although it was always more popular among foreigners, was recognized for its authentic and delicious Thai food. Hualamphong’s new location is a virtual carbon copy of the original Sukhumvit restaurant, but is located in area that is frequented almost exclusively by middle and upper class Thais; people who conceivably know their how mok nor mai from their nam phrik num, and I was curious to see if this somehow had an effect on the food.

Sitting down at Hualamphong’s wooden tables, the emphasis on good food is immediately evident; how many other Thai restaurants serve a complimentary amuse bouche? In this case it’s a long wooden tray with three kinds of chili dips and an attractive array of fresh vegetables, including such obscure regional herbs such as phak khayaeng and ton or. Hualamphong is best known for its takes on regional Thai cuisine, and the menu is a virtual culinary map of the country, including dishes such as the northern style sausage known as sai ua, an obscure jackfruit salad from the northeast, and budu song khrueang, a chili dip from the south. Although I commend the restaurant’s efforts to feature unusual dishes, I wonder how many diners actually order dishes such as fried ducks’ beaks, ants’ eggs, or the northern specialty, fried bamboo worms (although I’ll admit, the worms, 80 baht, are actually quite good).

Despite featuring dishes from every corner of Thailand, Hualamphong seems to be most confident in its execution of isaan food, and the best dish of our visit was the preserved pork salad mixed with crispy seasoned rice (80 baht), a dish of Vietnamese origin that Thais know as naem khluk. I’ve had this dish elsewhere numerous times, yet am almost always disappointed. This is a pity because the idea behind the dish is wonderful: a spicy/sour mixture of crispy deep-fried rice with fresh herbs, peanuts, and fermented pork. However, more often than not, the rice tends to be a gray, mushy pulp laced with alarming bits of pork skin. At Hualamphong there are still alarming bits of pork skin (it’s unfortunately a prerequisite in this dish), but the rice is crispy, tart and flavorful; the best version of this dish I’ve tasted yet. Another winner in the same genre is steamed mushrooms served with chili sauce (70 baht), a simple but delicious dish that features a variety of mushrooms steamed over a broth containing lemongrass, shallots, galingale and basil, and served with a piquant dipping sauce.

Slightly less successful are the restaurant’s attempts at southern Thai cuisine. Fried beef with southern-style chili topping (100 baht) employs stringy strips of beef that resembled isaan-style nuea daet diaow, and sadly lacked the requisite savory “dryness” of the original. Another dish with southern roots, spicy fried sataw (a pungent southern-Thai vegetable) with river prawn (150) was a disappointingly mild effort at a dish that is normally very intense. Indeed, much of the food at Hualamphong is somewhat toned town, but when it concerns Thai regional cooking this can be to the diner’s benefit, as it allows one to truly experience the flavors of the often unfamiliar herbs, fish and vegetables.

Another plus about Hualamphong Food Station is the restaurant’s excellent service staff. The waiters are friendly and helpful and appear to be confident about what they do. After several months in its new location, Hualamphong Food Station continues to be a restaurant that celebrates good food, and is one of the few places in town that recognizes the treasure that is Thailand’s regional cooking. And best of all, it’s actually possible to find.

Hualamphong Food Station
Kaset-Nawamin Road (near the second stoplight from either end of the road)
01 300 9700, 01 634 1892

ThaiDay: Chili me softly

Chili me softly (ThaiDay, 23/03/06)
Discovering the delights of Thai cuisine need not be a spicy, complicated experience.

Since the Thai food craze of the1990’s, Thai food has remained popular in the west, but much of this fame has been relegated to restaurants. For many home chefs in the US and Canada, Thai cuisine still carries an intimidating air of the exotic, and most people would rather not make something that can simply be bought at the Thai takeaway around the corner. Additionally, many of the ingredients essential to Thai cooking are misunderstood, or simply not available abroad, as well as the fact that Thai food has the reputation for being extremely spicy—something that intimidates many westerners. In short, there still is a lot to be done to promote Thai cooking internationally, and in an effort to do this, a food journalists’ tour of Bangkok was recently organized by Epicurean International, a US-based company that sells Thai cooking ingredients. During a week in Bangkok, myself and 11 other food writers and editors from North America took part in a Thai cooking school, visited various factories, and tasted Thai food at some of Bangkok’s best Thai restaurants. For many of the participants, this was their first experience with authentic Thai food, and was an introduction to the cuisine’s cooking and flavors. For me, the experience allowed me to see Thai cuisine for the first time once again, and also highlighted some of the trials of introducing an authentic Asian cuisine to North America.

Our crash course in Thai cuisine began with two days at the new Epicurean Kitchen Cooking School. As an introduction, we were given an explanation of the various Thai ingredients by the host of a Thai cooking show in the US. As we learned about the various uses of galingale, lemongrass, chilies and coriander, the actual herbs were passed around the table for each of us to touch, smell and taste. When kaffir lime leaf was brought up, Fraya Berg, a food editor at Parents magazine, mentioned the current trend of using the Thai word makrut to describe the leaf, as kaffir is a derogatory term in some countries. Others had questions about the use of frozen or dried herbs as opposed to fresh, as well as questions about the acceptable substitutes for the more obscure Thai ingredients. I felt that many of these concerns were good examples of the issues that Thai food has never been faced with domestically, and that it will have to overcome in order to become popular abroad.

During our two days at the cooking school, we learned to prepared more than 10 dishes, and most were surprised to learn that the actual cooking processes involved in making Thai food are often quite simple. “I enjoyed learning that the blending of Thai flavors is fairly straightforward and based upon a group of basic flavors: galangal, lemongrass, chilies, coconut milk and fish sauce,” explained Julie Miltenberger, a food editor at Family Circle Magazine. When asked what she sees as potential roadblocks to making Thai commonplace in the west, Miltenberger suggested that, “The greatest obstacle I foresee […] is the lack of fresh Thai ingredients in the marketplace. If ingredients are readily available, the food is very easy to assemble.” Gwynneth Galvin, a frequent contributor of food-related articles to Woman’s World magazine, thought that nomenclature might be a potential problem. “I’ll take these recipes back to the US, but I’ll have to rename them, as most people in the US aren’t familiar with the Thai names,” she explained.

Despite the fact that Thai ingredients are as simple as the cooking processes used to cook them, many suffer from the misconception that they are unhealthy (coconut milk) or just plain odd (fish sauce, shrimp paste). A visit to two factories where both of these staples are produced helped to clarify some of the misunderstandings surrounding Thai food. At Rungroj Fish Sauce Factory in Rayong, we learned that fish sauce is a pure product, comprised only of anchovies and salt, and that the highest quality fish sauce is the result of the first “pressing”, as one writer referred to it. At Merit Food Products in Cholburi, we saw that coconut milk is not the sweet juice that is found in young coconuts, but rather the liquid that is extracted from mature coconut meat. After visiting these factories, I felt that if people in the west were aware of the processes that go into making these ingredients, they would be more apt to use them.

Another factor that has slowed the progression of Thai food abroad is its reputation for being spicy. However, based on the comments of the journalists, this impression may not always be true. “I thought [Thai food] would be too hot for me, but I don't think I had one unmanageable dish,” commented Susan Katzman, a freelance food and travel writer, after several Thai meals. “The heat in all we tried enhanced flavor—not overpowered it.” Janice Cole, a food editor at Cooking Pleasures magazine added, “Thai food has developed a reputation for being very spicy in [the US]. While that appeals to many people, it also deters many people. What I found out on the trip is that Thai food can easily be made in a variety of heat levels and people can season their own food to their taste with chili sauce on the side.”

Along with Thai food, the popularity of Thai beer is also growing abroad, and I was able to learn more about this facet of Thai cuisine when I visited the Boon Rawd brewery with well-known Canadian beer writer, Stephen Beaumont. Normally the factory is not open to the public, but through a previous arrangement we were given a private tour by the brewery’s German-educated brewmaster, Tavesak Sujjayan. After our tour we were able to sit down and taste some of the brewery’s beers, including Thai, Leo, Kloster, Asahi, and Singha. After tasting the beers and discussing the flavors, Beaumont concluded that, “…variety is not the greatest strength of Thailand's breweries. Most every beer brewed in the country is a variation on the pale lager theme, with flavors ranging from borderline non-existent to sweetish and straw-like…” Beaumont described Singha as his favorite among the beers, which he described as “well developed and moderately full-bodied.” Although after seeing the factory I did gain a new appreciation for Singha, it’s clear that domestic Thai beer still has a long way to go before it will be well regarded outside of Thailand.

At the end of a week, Thai food appeared to win over this food-savvy crowd in a number of ways. Susan Katzman suggested that, “Thai cooking would translate well here in America for those on ‘health’ quests, being low calorie, high color, low fat, [and] full of flavor…” Janice Cole added, “I think one area Americans know little about are Thai salads and I think Americans will be very receptive to learning more about [them].” As an afterthought, Katzman added, “I came home totally addicted to sugar. Who would have thought I could crave those strange looking desserts, but yes, give me mango and sticky rice, or gnocchi-type dumpling in coconut milk over chocolate cake and I'll be happy.” Each of us took something different away from this experience, but hopefully it will lead to a greater understanding of this exotic cuisine, encourage people in the west to cook Thai food, and hopefully, add a bit of spice—but not too much—to the western palate.

How To Make: Phat Fai Daeng

Phat fai daeng literally means "fried with fire" and refers a style of flash-frying vegetables where the oil is ignited by the cooking flame, giving the dish a desireable "smoky" flavor. The most typical vegetables to be cooked this way are phak boong ("morning glory"--not the flower), phak khanaa ("Chinese broccoli"), and a Thai vegetable known as phak krachet. I make this dish almost every week; it's easy, nutritious and delicious.

An important element of this dish is the sauce. Here's what I use:

On the left is Heinz brand oyster sauce, and on the right, tao jiaow, a sauce of whole fermented soybeans. Some people will also use a touch of fish sauce or sii ew (Thai soy sauce), but I really like the simple combination of these two ingredients. It's essential to have your mise en place, the sauces and a bit of water, ready and easy to reach. This whole dish will take no more than about 1 1/2 minutes to make, so timing is essential.

Today I'm using young phak khanaa. I've taken the leaves and chopped them into largish pieces, and have halved the harder stalks (sorry, forgot to photograph this!). I usually soak them in cool water to crispen them up before frying.

In a mortar and pestle, grind up a healthy (or my case very healthy) amount of phrik khii noo (tiny Thai chilies) and a few cloves of garlic. Grind them together just enough to break them--you're not making a paste here. (Sometimes I like to throw a few peppercorns in at this step. This is a personal preference, definately not a Thai thing, but tastes good.) Set aside.

Heat a generous (4 Tbsps?) amount of cooking oil, and fry the smashed garlic and chilies over med-high heat for about 20 seconds, just long enough to make them "wilt":

Then turn your heat up as high as possible, add about 1 Tbsp of the tao jiaow (be careful, it's very salty), give a quick stir, add the veg, top with some oyster sauce, and a couple tablespoons of water. Now the fun starts: stir the mess up while tilting the pan to one side. If you've used enough oil it will ignite in a big fat beautiful flame:

Continue to do this several times during the cooking process to ensure that wonderful smoked flavor. Again, this should not take more than 1 minute, and you want the veggies to be just cooked, preferably still crispy and ever-so-slightly undercooked:

Done.

How To Make: Plaa Som

Plaa som ("sour fish") is usually associated with a type of whole fermented fish popular in NE Thailand. As much as you all love rotten fish, it's unfortunately not what I'm going to be making for this lesson. Today's plaa som is actually a southern dish that takes a hearty Spanish mackerel steak, fries it until cripsy, and coats it with a sour, chili-based sauce.

You'll need a spanish mackerel (plaa insee) steak of about 200-300 grams.

And, as usual, you'll need to make a curry paste:
Large dried chilies (soaked in warm water until soft) 5
Salt, 3 tsp
Garlic, 10 (small) cloves
Shallots, 3

Other ingredients
Sugar, 1 1/2 Tbsp
Vinegar, 1 1/2 Tbsp
Water, 1/4 cup

Onion, 1/2 sliced
Ginger, one medium root, chopped

Using a mortar and pestle (or food processor) grind the chili paste ingredients up finely. Set aside.

Chop your ginger and onion.

Combine the sugar/vinegar/water mixture. Set aside.

Taking your mackerel steak, rub a bit of salt into it (this helps to prevent it from sticking to the pan), and fry it in a generous amount of oil until crispy and somewhat golden.

Remove fish and let drain. Remove all but about 1-2 tablespoons of the oil, and add the curry paste ingredients. Fry until blended and fragrant.

Add onion and ginger, and fry until onions begin to soften.

Add sugar mixture and fry, stirring constantly, over medium heat until slightly reduced. Add more water if the sauce becomes too dry, and continue cooking until sauce is reduced somewhat.

Put fish on plate and cover with the onion/sauce mixture.

Done.

How To Make: Nam Phrik Kapi

Nam phrik are a virtually endless varity of Thai spicy "salsas". They are typically eaten with rice and raw or par-boiled vegetables, and tend to be based around chillies. Nam phrik kapi, a "dip" based on shrimp paste is one of the easiest Thai recipes of all to make. These are old pics I've dug up to contribute to this thread at eGullet, so I don't have the step-by-step pics you would normally expect to see here.

Nam Phrik Kapi with Fresh and Fried Vegetables
Nam Phrik Kapi is probably the most well known nam phrik in Thailand. As the name suggests, it is made with kapi, a salted and fermented paste of fine shrimp known as khoei, and is always served with fresh and/or parboiled vegetables, as well as egg-battered deep-fried vegetables, as described below. The amount of ingredients listed below for the nam phrik are largely for reference; a Thai chef would virtually never use measuring instruments to cook, and a dish is usually made to taste, keeping in mind a desired balance of the four tastes: sour, spicy, salty and sweet.

3+ phrik khii nuu (very small Thai chillies)
1 tablespoon garlic
1 tablespoon sugar
1 squeezed lime (about 1 tablespoon of juice)
1/4 cup Kapi (Thai shrimp paste)
1 tablespoon water
2 tablespoons makheua phuang (pea-sized Thai eggplant)

4 eggs
1 Chinese or Japanese eggplant, sliced into 1 cm thick rounds and put in a bowl of water mixed with 1 tablespoon of vinegar to prevent browning
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 bunch of cha om (a pungent vegetable sometimes available frozen in Thai grocery stores)

An assortment of fresh Thai vegetables, such as eggplant, cabbage, carrot, wing bean, long bean, all cut into long bite-size pieces

Using a mortar and pestle, grind the phrik khii nuu with the garlic until a rough paste is formed. Add the sugar and the lime juice and grind together. Add the shrimp paste and continue grinding until a paste forms. Add water. If the mixture is still too thick, add additional water, a teaspoonful at a time (nam phrik kapi should have the consistency of a slightly watery paste). Taste and add more chilies, lime or sugar, to taste. Add the makheua phuang, breaking slightly, but not grinding, with the pestle. Put nam phrik kapi in a serving bowl.

Beat eggs with a few drops of fish sauce or a pinch of salt, divide into two bowls and set aside. Drain eggplant and mix thoroughly with one of the bowls of egg. Heat cooking oil in a wok and taking two or three slices at a time, fry the eggplant in oil on both sides until crispy. Set on paper towels to drain. Remove the tender cha om leaves and blend with the eggs. Fry mixture in hot oil as a thick omelet or frittata, turning over to cook on both sides. Drain on a paper towel until cool then slice into bite-sized squares.

Arrange the fresh and fried vegetables on a plate and serve with rice and bowl of nam phrik kapi.

Talaat Aw Taw Kaw

This is the odd name of Bangkok's highest end market. Many claim that it is overpriced and overrated, but if you want to find the best fruit and seafood in town, there's really no other choice. The market is located across the street from the famous Chatujak Weekend Market, and steps away from the Kampheng Phet MRT station.

Aw Taw Kaw (an abbreviation that stands for the Farmer's Marketing Organization) is especially known for its fruit. This includes young tamarind:

a variety of bananas from southern Thailand known as kluay lep mue naang, literally "lady finger bananas":

and guavas:

The seafood at Aw Taw Kaw is very expensive, but looks (and tastes) great:

The dish below, poo phat phong karii, combines crab, egg, green onions and curry powder.

Kapi, shrimp paste, is another form of seafood available at the market.

Aw Taw Kaw is a great place to buy regional Thai ingredients and prepared foods. This stall sells northern Thai food:

And of course, there's dessert. Below are a variety of sticky rice-based sweets:

These below are called khanom taan, and are a combination of flour and palm sugar steamed in a banana leaf cup and topped with salty/sweet shredded coconut:

Khanom khrok are tiny crispy "pancakes" of coconut milk. Like many Thai desserts, they have a slightly salty/savory flavor.

ThaiDay: Guardians of art

Guardians of art (ThaiDay, 11/03/06)

Veeraphong Suwannasin is clearly a man excited about his work. As I wander around Phra Thi Nang Song Phanuat, a graceful century-old structure on the grounds of Wat Benchamabophit, he is more than happy to describe the stories depicted in the structure’s vast murals, and is

eager to provide information about the building. However, Suwannasin’s job, and the structure we are in are anything but typical. Suwannasin is a member of the Department of Fine Arts’ mural restoration team, and Phra Thi Nang Song Phanuat is the former ordination hall of King Chulalongkorn, Rama V.

Established 30 years ago, the Department of Fine Arts’ mural restoration team has been responsible for the restoration, upkeep and renovation of an estimated 1,000 sites in Thailand. These restorations can range in subject from Buddha statues to stucco wall designs, but the team is particularly experienced at restoring and protecting the painted murals that often line the inside walls of Buddhist temples in Thailand. They are the only team of its kind in the

country, and are thus responsible for the restoration and upkeep of some of the most important Buddhist art in Thailand. The team’s current restoration efforts at Phra Thi Nang Song Phanuat involves murals, and is, in the words of Suwannasin, a particularly “special” job. “It will take us longer than usual, and many influential people expect to see good work,” he explains.

Phra Thi Nang Song Phanuat is one of four structures that were originally located in the Grand Palace as part of the Temple of the Emerald Buddha. The buildings served as the ordination hall of Prince Chulalongkorn during his time as a monk, and when he later became king, he

ordered the structures to be relocated to the grounds of his newly commissioned temple, Wat Benjamabophit. After being moved, they were joined together and served as the residence of the temple’s first abbot. Not much later, a series of 20 murals depicting the life and reign of King Rama V were painted on the inside walls of one of the structures.

As with most murals in Thailand, the murals at Phra Thi Nang Song Phanuat have suffered a great deal of wear and tear over the years. This includes water damage that erased an entire wall of paintings, and cracks that were the result of previous structural repairs. Large chunks

of the murals have come loose, and a number of hollow spots in the plaster have formed. The structure was previously renovated by the team in 1985, but ongoing water damage at the base of the paintings, a common problem with temple murals, necessitated a new renovation.

Despite the difficulties involved and the high profile of the structure, this type of job is nothing new to the team, explains Somsak Taengphan, administrative head of the group. “We have to train our workers and teach them the rules [of restoration],” explains Taengphan. “All members of the team have art backgrounds, but painting and restoration are not the same.”

The team has 14 permanent members, but also employs the help of other artists for particularly big jobs. Taengphan explains how restoration work on Wat Suthat, a well-known Ratanakosin-era temple in Bangkok, required the help of more than100 artists, and took more than three years.

The ongoing work at Phra Thi Nang Song Phanuat involves six full-time workers, and while there, I am given a crash course in mural restoration by Taengphan and other members of the team. They explain that the first step in restoring murals involves removing the surface dust and grime that has accumulated over the years. This is typically done by applying a sheet of mulberry paper to the surface of paintings and painting over this with a wet brush. “The paper absorbs the dirt and can be removed without damaging the murals,” explains Suwannasin. The

use of mulberry paper may seem like a quaint throwback, but according to Virachai Suksawadi, a veteran member of the team, “The most important thing is to use the original materials.” Despite the advances of modern technology, the team strives to use the original methods and materials whenever possible. This leads them to employing such obscure products as buffalo skin, sugarcane juice and tamarind seeds, typically gathering and preparing these materials themselves.

After removing dust and grime, the second step involves securing the plaster base that supports the murals. Over the years, cracks have developed, pockets of air have formed, and water has caused the plaster to separate from the foundation. Virasuksawadi demonstrates how pockets of air are found simply by knocking on the plaster and listening for a hollow

sound, and describes how holes and cracks are filled with epoxy using a large syringe. After injecting the epoxy, loose pieces of plaster are then gently pushed back against the foundation using a cloth-coated pad held over a layer of mulberry paper. For larger structural cracks, occasionally holes are drilled to the foundation, which are then filled with a mixture of glue, plaster and fine sand.

The final step involves painting. This normally involves touching up faded drawings rather than repainting missing or damaged art, which is, for the most part, frowned upon. “We want to make our work look as authentic as possible, but if we have to repaint something, then we have to make it clear that that our work isn’t the original,” explains Virasuksawadi. This is done by discretely outlining or bordering the areas that have been restored or redrawn.

In certain situations where large portions of work are missing, repainting can be an option. “It depends on the work,” replies Virasuksawadi. “If too much is missing, we don’t know what used to be there and we can’t paint.” In the case of Phra Thi Nang Song Phanuat the team was asked by Wat Benjamabophit to repaint an entire section of murals that was previously destroyed by water. There were no photographs of the paintings that used to exist, and the team was left to rely on no more than a few written descriptions, the stylistic precedence of

remaining paintings and other similar murals as a model. “Normally this is not done,” explains Suwanasin, “But this is a special job, lots of important people will see it, and the temple asked us to do it.” For large areas that need to be repainted, a base made partially from a gum that comes from tamarind seeds is applied to the wall. Then the drawings are then outlined in pencil and painted in using tempera, as opposed to modern watercolors.

The work on Phra Thi Nang Song Phanuat, which began in late November is expected to continue until May, and is, in the words of Taengphan, “a perfect job”. “It’s a good size, it’s fun work, and our results will be here a long time.” Without the efforts of Somsak Taengphan and his team, it is almost certain that the murals at Phra Thi Nang Song Phanuat, as well as other precious elements of Thailand’s artistic heritage, would undoubtedly fall into obscurity.

Halls of History (Boxed text)
The murals of Phra Thi Nang Song Phanut are unusual in that, rather than illustrate the various life stories of the Buddha as with most temple paintings, they depict events during the life of King Rama V. Painted by unknown artists during the reign of King Rama V, the 20 panels depict the life of the King in chronological order, beginning with his top knot cutting

ceremony at the age of 13, and continuing with his ordination, coronation, and travels within Thailand and to foreign countries. One panel in particular describes the story of a man-eating crocodile in Chachoengsao that King Chulalongkorn was involved in exterminating. Yet another panel even depicts the relocation of Phra Thi Nang Song Phanuat from the Grand Palace to its current location at Wat Benjamabophit. The murals are valued for their accurate
depictions of real people, including depictions of King Rama V’s father, King Mongkut, Rama IV, and for the insight they provide into various aspects of royal life in Ratanakosin during the reigns of Rama IV and Rama V, including King Rama IV’s interest in astronomy, and details of his funeral ceremony.

Thai Day: Oh boy, oh boy

Oh boy, oh boy (ThaiDay, 09/03/06)
The most interesting aspect of my experience at Rotiboy didn’t actually involve eating, but rather, waiting in line. For those of you who don’t know, Rotiboy is a Malaysian bread chain that recently opened two outlets in Bangkok to enormous acclaim. I’m not sure how word spreads here, and didn’t realize that bread was so popular among Thais, but Rotiboy somehow became an instant hit, and initially, waits of 1-2 hours for the chain’s famous coffee-flavored buns were not uncommon.

Rotiboy (“one is never enough… buns to die for!”) began in 1998 as a neighborhood bakery in Penang, Malaysia. Sales of it’s curiously named Mexican bun (now even more curiously branded as the Rotiboy) quickly soared, and after opening its first domestic outlet in 2002, Rotiboy can now be found Singapore, Hong Kong, Indonesia, and as of December 2005, Bangkok. The Bangkok branch sells exactly one product, the aforementioned Rotiboy (25 baht), a largish, rather unattractive, coffee flavored bun, and sells it very well (a recent call to Rotiboy

Bangkok to inquire about many buns were sold each day elicited a cold “I’m sorry we cannot reveal this information” from the store’s manager). With excellent international chains such as Le Notre, and up-and-coming domestic bakers such as Visage now making pastries of a very high level available in Bangkok, I find it strange that a largely obscure establishment selling a single product at a relatively high price could generate so much attention. And so, in the interests of investigative journalism, I decided to brave the buzz (and the lines) and taste the bun.

To truly take part in the Rotiboy experience, I decided that I needed to visit the Silom branch of the franchise during its busiest peak, the afternoon rush hour, and do what everybody else buying Rotiboy buns must do: wait. Arriving at 4:38 on a Monday afternoon I was disappointed to learn that things have apparently slowed down a bit in recent weeks. Although an hour’s wait is still the norm, and supplies are still being rationed (a sign behind the counter
reads: “Each customer may purchase no more than 10 buns. We apologize for any inconvenience.”), the only indication that things might possibly get out of control were a few traffic cones to direct the crowds. I stepped into the tail end of a very long and civil line (why can’t people queue like this at ATMs or hospitals?) and began my wait.

After several minutes of waiting, I turned to the woman behind me and asked, “Is the line like this every day?”
“Wow, you can speak Thai,” was her reply, ignoring my question.
“So, don’t you think this is a rather long line?” I attempted again.
“Where did you learn Thai?” she replied. Apparently waiting an hour in line to buy buns was not a particularly unusual experience for this woman, and there were more interesting things to talk about. We continued to inch forward at a tedious rate, which was made somewhat more pleasant (or unbearable?) by the rich scent of coffee wafting out of the bakery. Although I was

initially skeptical about Rotiboy, waiting in line for 20 minutes had actually sharpened my desire to get that bun, and I was already reconsidering how many I wanted to buy. Making customers wait suddenly seemed like a extremely shrewd marketing technique.

Upon finally reaching the counter (time: 5:18) I purchased my solitary Rotiboy (employee: “Only one?”), ran under the BTS escalator, and immediately tore into it. The verdict? Well, it was quite good, actually. Despite my normally high journalistic morals, I was prepared to dislike Rotiboy from the start, seeing it as yet another hyped-up product, but was pleasantly surprised. Less bun-like than it appears, the Rotiboy is actually very similar in taste and texture to an American-style buttermilk pancake. The shell was satisfyingly crispy, and the soft interior was laced with a generous aroma (rather than taste) of coffee and a layer of melted butter. I wolfed down my prize, looked back on the line that had now grown even longer, and reflected on my Rotiboy experience. Was it really worth the wait? Honestly, I would love to write more on this, but unfortunately I need to get in line for my next bun. Sorry.

Rotiboy Bakeshoppe
189 Silom Road
02 632 0897
www.rotiboy.com

For those interested in trying the bun, but not willing to brave the lines, there are now several Rotiboy alternatives available in Bangkok. Most of these revolve around Siam Square, home to a popular branch of Rotiboy, and a virtual epicenter of Bangkok's coffee-flavored bun craze.

Crystal Jade My Bread
(Basement, Siam Paragon, 02 610 7581)
My Bread's Mexico Coffee Bun (25 baht) is the least coffee-like but the most buttery of its genre. I bought a bun to go, and the staff recommended that I heat it up before eating. In retrospect this was good advice, as the generous butter filling was solid and overwhelmingly rich.
BreadTalk
(Basement, Siam Paragon, 02 610 7588-9)
The Coffi-0 (22 baht) is this Singaporean bread chain's answer to the Rotiboy. Featuring a sweet, green pandanus-flavored filling, in terms of taste, concept, and name, it doesn't get much weirder than this.
Papa Roti
(Siam Square, next to Dr. Maarten's, near the stage)
Papa Roti resembles its popular predecessor in every way, even down to the shop's yellow decor and nearly identical smiling chef logo. The buns (25 baht) are served hot ("always fresh always tasty") and have the proper balance of coffee and butter that one would expect from such an eerily "similar" competitor.

Kwaytiao Khae (again)

I 've previously mentioned this somewhat difficult-to-find Chinese noodle dish, and was delighted to find it again today:

Again, the dish consists of mostly fish-related balls served with noodles in a clear broth. This particular example was not amazing, but rather the restaurant's setting in a really cool old shophouse was what drew me in:

It's hard to see in this pic, but the shop has the old wooden booths that can be found in many of Bangkok's older restaurants. The place is located steps away from Chang Pier, near Wat Phra Kaew and all the other touristy stuff. A cool glimpse of Olde Bangkok, and fun place to eat, but in terms of noodles I think I prefer my local joint.

ThaiDay: Vive le Soi!

As I mentioned previously, I'll be contributing food-related features and restaurant reviews to ThaiDay, the paper bundled with the International Herald Tribune. I'm going to be posting those articles here, and I'll begin with a feature/restaurant review that ran on page 5 of today's ThaiDay (Thursday is food day at ThaiDay!). I'd like to thank Features Editor, Nick Grossman, for letting me do this. (And for those of you who may have already seen the print version, the version below is the original, and will vary slightly from the editor's take, but I will include the same pics as in the article.)

Vive le Soi! (ThaiDay, 02/03/06)
Live the vie en rose in Bangkok's French Quarter.

For authentic regional food, Bangkok’s ethnic enclaves are an obvious destination. What better place to go for hummus and tabouli than the Nana area? Thinking of dhal and chapatti? Think of Phahurat, Bangkok’s Little India. And Yaowarat, Bangkok’s Chinatown, is the obvious choice for all foods Chinese. These neighborhoods and their cuisines are well established, however in recent years a new ethnic district has begun to emerge in Bangkok. Home to a bakery, an ambitious butcher shop, a restaurant popular among French expats, a wine shop, and numerous cafés, Soi Convent, “Bangkok’s Champs Elysées”, has all the attributes of a Parisian arrondisement. The following is a rundown of the French food establishments found in Bangkok’s newest ethnic enclave.

La Boulange
2-2/1 Convent Road
02 631 0355

For many, the first image that comes to mind when most people think of French food is bread, and it is thus fitting that the first French business to become established on Soi Convent was a bakery. La Boulange was started up seven years ago, and was probably Bangkok’s first high-quality independent bakery. In the beginning the small café/bakery sold a small selection of high-quality pastries and sourdough breads baked on the premises in an imposing wood-burning oven. However, other than a cup of coffee or a simple sandwich, La Boulange was largely a take-home affair, and never progressed past this.


Tempting pastries at La Boulange.

After less than a year in business, La Boulange was taken over by Bangkok-based French hotelier, Robert Molinary. The wood-burning oven was removed, and under the guidance of an experienced French chef, a greater emphasis was put on bistro-type meals and wines. “This business is more competitive now,” explains acting GM and self-proclaimed “food engineer” Patrick Parthonnaud, about the decision to revamp the restaurant. Today, La Boulange’s breads are baked in factories in Bangkok and Pattaya, however, for those concerned, Parthonnaud assures me that “The bread is still exactly the same.” There are now as many as 20 varieties of pain sold at La Boulange, including the hearty country-style loaf, pain de campagne, a sourdough-rye bread, and such Parisian staples as baguette and batard. The bakery is still producing pastries, and La Boulange’s marble-topped street front tables are probably the most pleasant place in Bangkok to take a café au lait.

Gargantua
10/2 Soi 6 Convent Road
02 630 4577

Tucked into the end of an unremarkable side street, Gargantua is the unusual name behind a recently opened French-style butcher shop. Part owner, Arnaud Carré, is a fifth-generation butcher from Brittany who has been involved with meat since childhood. “I used to work in my


Gargantua, a French butcher's shop on Soi Convent, offers hard-to-find cuts of meat and exotic sausages.

father’s butcher shop as a child,” explains Carré between endless cigarettes and coffee. After running his father’s business for several years, Carré spent 10 years in the US working for a chain of steakhouses, and eventually opened a French-style boucherie in Manhattan. When asked why he decided to relocate to Bangkok, he replies confidently, “I am a man of challenge.”

Challenges aside, Gargantua is one of the few domestic producers of elusive French products such as terrine de lapin, rabbit terrine; merguez, Algerian-style spicy lamb sausages; and saucisse aux herbes, fresh herb sausages; as well as choice cuts of beef and veal. All of the meat products, except for lamb, are Thai, and when asked about the quality of Thai beef, Carré is quick to reply, “The quality of meat here is fantastic. High quality Thai beef is close to

American beef, if prepared right.” After less than a year in business, Carré already has plans to open another branch of Gargantua “somewhere in Bangkok”, and will soon be expanding his range of merchandise to include a greater variety of fresh sausages and other products.

Wine Connection
Unit 5 Ground Floor, Sivadon Building
1 Convent Road
02 234 0388
www.wineconnection.co.th

You’ve bought yourself a baguette and a few slices of pâté, now what do you drink? The obvious choice would be wine, and since 2002, Wine Connection on Soi Convent has proven itself to be one of the best places in the city to buy a bottle. Wine Connection’s CEO and founder, Michael Trocherie, hails from the south of France and previously worked in Vietnam

exporting French wine to other parts of Asia. After seven years of this, he decided to move to Bangkok and import instead. “I wanted to be on the other side of the business,” explains Trocherie. Wine Connection began as an online business, and opened its first shop on Sukhumvit 32 in 2000. Since then the store has expanded to various locations in Bangkok and Thailand, as well as Singapore.


The search for that perfect bottle is not difficult at Wine Connection.

Part of the reason for Wine Connection’s success is its shops; they are attractively designed and well organized, just like a good wine shop in Europe or the US. And there is also volume; the Soi Convent branch of Wine Connection alone sells more than 250 kinds of wine, with a large proportion of these being, not surprisingly, French. Thankfully for the consumer, Wine Connection emphasizes mid-range wines, and several excellent bottles can be found for 600 baht or less. I ask Michael for a recommendation and he suggests a Domaine de la Begou, a red from southern France. “It won a gold medal in France, but it’s not a famous name,” he explains. “It’s a very good wine, but not expensive, exactly the kind of thing we like to sell.”

Cafés
Any self-respecting French street wouldn’t be caught dead without its cafés, and Soi Convent is no exception. Starting at the Silom end of Soi Convent is a branch of the ubiquitous Starbucks (1/3 Convent Road), equipped with Wi-Fi for those who prefer to read Le Monde online with their coffee. On the same side of the street is the Café Swiss (3 Convent Road, www.swisslodge.com). More a restaurant than a café, the location offers a pleasant outdoor dining area and a European-style breakfast buffet. The Tung Who Coffee Shop (13/1 Convent) across the street serves “Original Thai Coffee” and a number of Chinese/Thai dishes. Goûte House is a small bakery (French only in name) selling a variety of pastries including palmiers, a sweet of French origin. And finally, near Sathorn, are the Café de Convent, a small café-cum-florist, and Goodwill, an attractive café with a Thai menu

(Boxed restaurant review)
Indigo
6 Convent Road
02 235 3268
indigobangkok@yahoo.com

Located in an attractive former schoolhouse and boasting one of the loveliest outdoor dining areas in town, Indigo has been a popular meeting place for French expats since opening five years ago. I had never visited the restaurant until a friend of mine, a French cookbook author, urged me to go, expressing repeatedly that it was “very French”. I wasn’t sure what she meant by this, and not once did she mention the restaurant’s food, but I trust her judgment and decided to drop by.

Arriving at 4:45 to an empty restaurant and a confused waitress, my companion and I were seated and promptly given lunch menus. We requested the dinner menu, and I began with one of the specials, rocket salad (190 baht) and my companion with warm goat cheese salad (320 baht). The rocket salad reminded me of rocket salads I’ve made at home (which is a good thing,

but not particularly exciting when eating out), but the warm goat cheese salad was more interesting; a bed of mixed greens supporting two toasts topped with fresh thyme and melted rounds of local goat cheese. My salad was followed by blanquette de veau à l’ancienne (390), a notoriously difficult to make “stew” of veal. I should by know not to order any dish employing the word “traditional”, and the blanquette was flat, the cream and egg yolk-based sauce heavy and lacking the zest and spice that more current interpretations of the dish often allow. And as if to rub my nose in my lackluster choice, my companion purred over her bar à la provençale (390 baht), fillets of sea bass pan-fried with olives capers, tomatoes, lemon and basil. We’ve all seen this dish (and this fish) before, but again, she had made the wiser selection, and the result was satisfyingly crispy, savory and tart. Our food was taken with the house white wine (120 baht), a predictable Chardonnay, and we ended our meal by sharing a tarte fine aux pommes et glace vanille (170 baht), a freshly-baked apple tart with vanilla ice cream. Tasty, but I always get a little sad when the warm tart melts all of my ice cream.


The old world charm of Indigo's whitewashed interior.

Up to this point our food had been underwhelming and overpriced, and the setting perfect, and I was wondering if this was what my friend meant by “very French”. However, my understanding came later, when the owner of Indigo, initially wary of my picture snapping and wandering around his restaurant, caught on that I was a food critic, invited himself to sit down at our table and began to gush about his restaurant, bringing us wheels of French cheese and frightfully large loaves of bread to look at. Cynics would say he was doing this to promote his restaurant, and they would undoubtedly be correct, but I found this unabashed love of food touching and very French. If only this affection would carry over to the restaurant’s kitchen.

Eating Penang

Spent the last few days in Penang, Malaysia. An interesting place, if it's your first time, but I've been there three times already, and wasn't exactly looking forward to it. Luckily though, there's the food. Georgetown (Penang is actually the name of the entire island) is essentially a Chinese town, but there are lots of Indians, and some malaysians, which makes for an interesting culinary mix. Although I've been before, most of my culinary experiences were quite random, and I owe a lot to Robyn of EatingAsia for her helpful information. All in all, I'd have to say that Georgetown is probably the single best city for eating authentic asian food anywhere in Asia--at least of all the places I've been.

Georgetown is especially known for its hawker food, which means there are lots of people selling food from carts like this:

And since the food is on the street, you also eat on the street, like this:

or this:

Here's a guy selling Chinese-style herbal drinks on the street:

And the street-food mirth doesn't stop at night:

But actually, the thing I liked the most are the numerous old-school cafes, where several different vendors congregate and a variety of food and drink is available. Most of these are Chinese, and serve a variety of largely noodle-based dishes. Here's an example:

That handsome looking dish in the foreground was char kway teow. Here it is being made:

In all honesty, virtually everything Chinese in Georgetown seemed to revolve around noodles. They were good, but dishes often seemed quite similar to each other and usually made every effort to distance themselves from vegetables.

My personal favorite was the Indian places. They are almost exclusively southern Indian in origin, which means you're getting great banana-leaf veggie meals and treats such as thosai and idli. This stuff is somewhat expensive and hard to find here in Bangkok, so I had about four thosai every day to make up for lost time! Here are some thosai ("pancakes" of fermented rice flour) being made:

These deliciously sour and cripy treats are fried on one side (as shown) and served up on a banana leaf with dal (lentil curry) and a coconut-garlic and a tomato-based sauce.

Virtually all eats in Penang, regardless of origin, are washed down with a sweet teh tarik (literally, "pulled tea", so named to describe how the tea is poured from a great distance to create a frothy head):

On my last night I visited an outdoor hawker center at the end of Gurney Drive and experienced my best meal (thanks Robyn!). I started with rojak, a "salad" of assorted fruit with a shrimp paste/sugar/tamarind dressing:

This is a dish of Indonesian/Malay origin, and can also be found in Singapore.

I followed this assam laksa (also known as Penang laksa), a noodle dish (of course) with a slightly sour fish-based broth:

This was good, a lot like Thai khanom jeen except with udon noodles! The broth had some fresh herbs and pineapple, which I thought was nice.

But the best I had that night was chicken claypot, a ceramic urn holding rice cooked in chicken broth, a few pieces of chicken, a huge slabba ginger, chinese sausage and topped with an egg (why don't people combine chicken and egg more often?):

Damn, this was good. The rice was crispy and fragrant, and the claypot was served with a black pepper-inudated broth that could (I imagine) be poured over the rice, or taken seperately.

Bamii Blow Out

Continuing on the bamii theme, today I went to the local bamii pet, duck with egg noodles, shop. This kind of bamii is a bit more hard to find than the usual that has pork or crab, but is quite good, if not better.

The noodles they use here are really good, similar in quality to egg noodles I've had in China. Here is the guy parboiling the noodles before adding them to the bowl:

If you're not into noodles, you can also order something called kao lao, which is basically the dish without the addition of noodles, and which includes a ladlefull of "gravy" made from fermented soybeans and duck broth, giving the dish a deep, savory flavor.

The shop uses entire Chinese-style roasted ducks. Here's the guy who chops them up:

And here's my bowl:

I ordered bamii pet naam, egg noodles with duck and broth. There's also some phak kwaang tung, a green leafy vegetable hiding under there.

The Magical World of Thai Baked Goods

Today's lesson in bizarre Thai pastries is an extra super double blowout edition, featuring two very unusual baked treats from the local Yamazaki, a Japanese bakery.

First we begin with a pastry called, and I'm not joking here, the Weiner Kids Donut:

Yes, Kids, it's the snack you've been waiting for: part savory, part cripy sweet, this is essentially a hot dog (the aforementioned "Weiner") encased in dough, rolled in bread crumbs, deep-fried, and generously topped with a dollop of sweet ketchup. The thing was so oily that if you stuck a wick in it you could probably use it to read by for a couple weeks.

The next example is the ambitiously-titled Crab Pizza Danish:

OK, there are obviously a lot of faults with this one, but my main objection to the Crab Pizza Danish is why try to do so much with one pastry? I can (sort of) conceive of a Crab Danish, or even a Pizza Danish, or even more so a Crab Pizza, but why on earth would somebody try to combine all there of these disparate elements? And what's with those toppings:

It's a bit hard to see here, but you've got imitation crab, pineapple, "cheese" and ketchup, all mingling on the same platform. I almost chose its neighbor, the Corn Pizza Danish, but felt that imitation crab was something I couldn't pass up.

Phat Sii Ew

This fried noodle dish is something I enjoyed when I first moved to Thailand, and I even made it at home a couple times. For some reason though I somehow lost track of phat sii ew and hadn't eaten it for about four years.

Just recently I was stranded on a street near my house and "discovered" an excellent phat sii ew shop. The name of the shop is Laad Naa Yod Phak Nay Lao, ("Mr Yao's Laad Naa with Tender Vegetables", laad naa is another dish made there), a well-known shop downtown that has a branch near my neighborhood. Eating here made me realize what I had been missing all these years. For those who don't know, phat see ew is made by frying wide rice noodles with eggs, pork, and phak khanaa (Chinese broccoli), with a soy sauce-based sauce. This place makes truly amazing phat sii ew. It's done in a huge freaking wok over a very strong flame:

First the eggs are fried, then the noodles and veggies are added. The noodles are pre-soaked in the sauce, which the cook (below) told me is a mixture of soy sauce (sii ew) and oyster sauce.

And the best thing is that from order to eat takes honestly no more than two minutes!

Here's my dish:

Because of the way they're flash-fried, the whole dish has a wonderfully smoky taste. I'm not a big meat eater, so I always order mine minus pork and extra veggies, that's why it looks particularly green.

Here's an action shot of the eating process: