Tam Som Thai Fire Power

This is the English name of a restaurant chain we ate lunch at recently. The name is a reference to the spiciness of Thai papaya salad (called tam som in some dialects). Obviously you can't go to a place like this and not order som tam (as it's called in the central dialect):

They do a decent one here, although I reckon those with a low tolerance for obscenely spicy food might have a tough time. The som tam was served with the traditional accompaniments of crispy cucumber, lettuce and long beans, but here they put them in on the the containers normally used for noodle condiments:

Cute.

We ordered laap wun sen:

which was basically pork laap with the addition of wun sen, glass noodles.

There was tom saep het faang:

Tom saep is an isaan version of tom yam, and is usually made with pork ribs. This version probably used the same broth, but had no meat, and instead included het faang, straw mushrooms. Het faang go from good to slimy in a matter of hours, and unfortunately they decided to use the squishy old ones in this soup. Yuck. But that sure is a cute little stove.

My favourite dish was their kai yaang khamin, grilled chicken with turmeric:

This tasted excellent, but the texture was a bit unusual. I have a feeling they deep-fried it, then grilled it, or vice-versa. Oddly enough, "grilled chicken" is sometimes deep-fried in Thailand.

And there was, of course, sticky rice:

Cute container, no?

Tam Som Thai Fire Power
Kaset-Navamin Highway (very close to the Ram Inthra Expressway)

technorati tags: thai, food, bangkok, papaya, salad, isaan

Baan Chan

I finally made it back. Baan Chan, the subject of today's post, is a restaurant specializing in the cuisine of Chanthaburi, a province in eastern Thailand. I had been to Chanthaburi several years ago, but other than some nice seafood, didn't really notice anything in particular about the food there. Since then I've learned that Chanthaburi is famous for its fruits, is home to Thailand's most famous rice noodles ('sen chan'), and is also known for the famous black pepper that grows in the area as well as over the border in Cambodia. The border area is quite undeveloped, and the province is also known for dishes that include various types of game, such as wild deer, boar and birds. I like Thai boar (which is usually raised), but don't really want to consume wild animals, so on my visit to Baan Chan I stuck with duck. This included kaeng paa pet, 'jungle' curry with duck:

If you order kaeng paa elsewhere in Thailand, you'll get a soup. But apparently in Chanthaburi the dish takes the form of something like a thick stir-fry, with crunchy bamboo, heaps of herbs (lemongrass, kaffir lime leaves, basil, chili, peppercorn and a hint of nutmeg), bizarre bits of duck, and unusually, chunks of unripe banana (the unattractive grayish bits you see there). This is the restaurant's signature dish, and a good example of really freaking spicy Thai food done well, meaning that there was actually a variety of spicy flavours present (black pepper, ginger), rather than just the burn of chilies.

I also had khua kling pet:

Until this meal, the only khua kling I was familiar with was a southern Thai dish that is typically pork or beef braised in a a curry paste until 'dry'. This dish was actually more or less a lot like a drier, spicers kaeng paa without the veggies. Excellent.

After these two, the green curry with homemade fish balls:

seemed like a mild palate cleanser! I thought this was a perfect example of 'real' Thai green curry, which unlike the stuff you'll get in touristy restaurants, tends to be slightly yellow in color, has a hefty layer of oil floating on top, mushy eggplants, and is more watery than most people think a 'curry' should be. I do remember seeing this curry in quite often in Chanthaburi, and recall that is often contained fish, which is somewhat unusual elsewhere in Thailand.

Although I don't think it's particularly associated with Chanthaburi, we can never say no to a good naam phrik kapi:

i.e. shrimp paste dip, served with fresh and battered-and-deep-fried veggies.

The last dish was kao lao:

It's basically a bowl of noodles--without the noodles. Kind of a pointless dish, if you ask me. The broth was sweet, as is usually the case, and was heavy with ground peanuts. Yuck.

I'll definitely be coming back, as I still haven't tried the sen chan phat puu, rice noodles fried with crab, or the kaeng nuea sai krawaan, beef curry with nutmeg.

technorati tags: thai, food, chanthaburi, bangkok

Where to eat in BKK

I get quite a few emails from people planning to visit Bangkok asking me to recommend "the best places to eat" or where "the best Thai food" is. I'm honored that people would trust my opinion regarding an issue so profound, and thought the best way to approach this would be in a blog entry.

First of all, it's important to understand that with Thai food it's generally pretty hard to find a great all-around restaurant (although certainly some do exist); you're much more likely to find a place serving a few great dishes. As I've mentioned previously, the most rewarding Thai restaurants specialize in one style of cooking, or perhaps food from one particular region of Thailand. Keeping this in mind, it would be an immense undertaking to recommend individual restaurants. Instead, I'm going to mention the types of dining I think one should take part in when in Bangkok, and a few areas where small restaurants, street stalls and/or vendors are of a higher caliber than elsewhere.

For Thai newbies, I would strongly recommend beginning with a visit to a mall food court. They are clean and cheap, the menus are written in English, you have a wide range of choices, and actually, the food can be pretty good. My favorite food court is probably the one on the sixth floor of Mah Boon Khrong (also known as MBK). You'll find a huge variety of Thai food, everything from noodles to isaan--they even have a stall selling Thai-Muslim food such as khao mok kai. One of my favourite stalls is the one selling vegetarian food. There's generally a foodcourt at every mall, and in particular, upscale foodcourts seem to be springing up everywhere these days (such as the food court at Siam Paragon) but they're generally quite overpriced (by Thai standards) and mostly Chinese (I'm assuming you're looking for Thai food here). One peculiarity about Thai food courts: they don't accept cash. You'll need to find the cleverly hidden counter, where you'll have to stand in line to exchange your cash for coupons, or more recently, a swipe card. Then after you're done eating, you'll forget the coupons or swipe card with the remaining money in your pocket, and won't realize this until you get home. It's all part of the Thai food court experience.

At this point maybe you've found a dish or two that you like, and are somewhat more familiar with the flavours of Thai food. Now you are ready to eat somewhere "nice". Thus, I feel the natural next step is to eat at an upscale Thai restaurant. Be forewarned: upscale Thai restaurants are mostly mediocre, almost exclusively patronized by foreigners, and are going to be much more expensive than all other forms of Thai food put together. But they can also be very atmospheric and fun, and as most people try to include at least one on their trip anyway, I thought I would recommend the few I'm familiar with. My favourite upscale Thai place is probably La Na Thai, one of the restaurants in the lovely Face complex. I've eaten here twice, and both my Thai companions and I have enjoyed excellent Thai food each time. Other good upscale Thai include the tourist-ridden but good (as long as you avoid the buffet) Bussaracum and Flava. Lastly, if $ is not an issue, and you'd also like a view with your tom yam then I'd recommend the atmospheric riverside restaurants at the Oriental or the Peninsula.

Once you've downed a few plates of food court nosh and have consumed the requisite nice Thai meal, I reckon you're ready for the next step in Thai dining: a good food neighborhood. In my opinion, this is the highest level of Thai dining (you'll instantly realize just how average upscale Thai tends to be!). In good food neighborhoods there might be a few standout restaurants, but generally it's possible just to pick and choose. The restaurants are going to be simple, but the flavours strong. In this regard, I would recommend the area on and around Thanon Tanao in Ko Rattanakosin, one of Bangkok's oldest districts, and a place teeming with legendary Thai eats. Other good food neighborhoods include Tha Phra Chan (in particular the area around Tha Chaang in the evenings) and Thanon Phra Athit, both more or less located in the same area of Bangkok. I've also got a feeling that the Siam Square area might have some good eats, although on the surface it appears to be dominated by KFC and other chains. Investigation will ensue...

At this point, if you have followed my directions, you will have sampled a true cross section of Thai cuisine. It is only now that you are ready for the final step: Thai night market/street food. These affairs are only open at night, are not the cleanest restaurants you'll ever see, and they're in weird parts of town. But the food is often pretty good--almost equal to the experience. In this regard, I wholeheartedly endorse Chinatown at night. Simply walk down Thanon Yaowarat, try to avoid the annoying touts at touristy seafood restaurants, and pay attention as you reach the intersection Charoen Krung Soi 16. There you will find virtually every form of Chinese-influenced Thai street food. Another strong option is Sukhumvit Soi 38, where Chinese-ish food again dominates, but is a bit wider in scope, despite being a much smaller market.

There. That's my 2 bits. Anybody got anything else to add?

technorati tags: bangkok, dining, restaurants, food

Sukhothai Mor Din

Although many visitors to Thailand rave about the street food, frankly, much of it is pretty mediocre. Much better, in my opinion, are the small mom and pop restaurants that specialize in one kind of dish, or perhaps a style of regional Thai cooking. They tend to be dark, difficult to find, and the owners can often be surly, but the food, man, the food... The above restaurant is a perfect example of this genre of restaurant. It's called Sukhothai Mor Din, literally "Sukhothai Clay Pots", so-called because their curries are served in the red pottery made just outside this northern city:

These aren't just run-of-the-mill curries either. These curries are meant to be ladled over khanom jeen, fermented rice noodles. They had about eight different curries to choose from, and we ordered naam yaa paa, a watery fish-based curry, and naam ngiaow, a thicker northern-style curry made from pork ribs, tomatoes and chunks of blood:

An order of any type of curry and khanom jeen is always accompanied by lots of fresh and par-boiled veggies and herbs:

The green leaves in the foreground are called bai menglak (hairy basil?) and along with par-boiled morning glory, thinly sliced green beans and bean sprouts, are taken with the naam yaa paa. The naam ngiaow is normally eaten with pickled mustard cabbage, crispy fried garlic, shredded cabbage and squeeze of lime.

Other than curries, the clay pots also hold sweets:

I believe the above is sago with corn. I ordered sweetened sticky rice with lamyai, an indigenous fruit. Khuat ordered bua loy maphrao on, small, sweet balls with young coconut:

Those not familiar with Thai sweets will be surprised to learn that the Thais actually prefer these kind of coconut milk-based sweets to also taste salty. I was aware of this, but was surprised at just how salty this shop's sweets were.

On my next visit I'm going to try the delicious-looking green curry with fish balls. Stay tuned...

technorati tags: noodles, curry, thai, bangkok, restaurant

Pot Thai

Several months ago I received an email from a writer who was working on a piece about Thai kitchen gadgets for the New York Times Style Magazine. To help her out, I did a blog entry describing some of the most emblematic tools in the Thai kitchen. Her article has just come out, take a look. (Incidentally, in the same issue there's also a cool "Style Map" of Hanoi (scroll to bottom of the page) courtesy of the Monsieur noodlepie himself, Graham Holliday, as well as an article about fancy French potatoes by Clotilde of Chocolate and Zucchini. Kinda makes you wonder what happened to all the real journalists, doesn't it?)

A bit of Portugal in Thailand

Before you think I'm going out on a limb here, take a look at the above and tell me it doesn't look like a perfectly ordinary Thai meal!

There's actually quite a bit in common between Portuguese and Thai cooking. It was actually the Portuguese who introduced chilies (and many other ingredients) to Thailand in the 16th century. And although they didn't take to searingly hot food as much as the Thais did, both countries share a deep love for seafood, chicken, grilled foods and sweets, as you'll see below. Now if only they'd introduced vinho verde, good cheese and olive oil...

Regardless, I've been thinking a lot about Portuguese food lately. I like the emphasis on seafood and bread, and had recently gotten hold of a nice bottle of Portuguese olive oil that I wanted to put to good use. I had also come across several interesting-looking Portuguese recipes as of late, so I decided to put together a Portuguese meal using ingredients I could easily get here in Bangkok. Two dishes that immediately came to mind were frango no churrasco, Portuguese-style grilled chicken, and piri piri, the ubiquitous chili-based dipping sauce.

The two recipes below were taken and adapted from the Portugal volume of Lonely Planet's excellent World Food series. I have several of their World Food books, and find them an excellent introduction to the food of several different countries.

Frango no Churrasco (Char-grilled Chicken)

2 large cloves garlic
1/2 tsp dried hot chili flakes
1/2 salt
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 medium free range chicken

1. Crush the garlic and mix with the chili, salt and oil. Set aside.

2. Remove and discard the chicken's neck and giblets. Wash the chicken in cold water and pat dry with a paper towel. Place the chicken breast-side-up on a chopping board and, using a large sharp knife, cut down the middle riht through to the board and all the way up to the neck. Open the chicken out and press it flat. Rub the flavoured oil all over both sides of the chicken. Cover and refrigerate to marinate overnight (or at least for a few hours) to allow the flavours the develop.

3. Prepare a moderately hot charcoal fire with a grill rack about 15cm above the coals. When the coals are white, lay the chicken on the grill with the skin side up and cook for 12 to 15 minutes, then turn the chicken over and grill the other side for a further 12 minutes or so, or until the chicken is browned. Remove and 'rest' the chicken in a warm spot, uncovered, for 10 minutes -- resting ensures the juices stay in the mean when it is cut.

Piri Piri (Red Hot Chili Pepper Sauce)

1/2 cup small dried chilies
3 cloves of garlic, chopped
1 tsp sea salt
1/4 cup white wine vinegar
1 cup olive oil

Put all the ingredients in a blender or food processor and process until combined. Put in a jar with a tight lid and leave in the fridge for a week.

The natural accompaniment to frango no churrasco and piri piri is batatas fritas, deep-fried potatoes. Despite this, I've always been intimidated by boiling oil, and my previous attempts at deep-frying were pretty abysmal. However I recently became interested in giving this style of cooking a second chance after reading the chapter called "Fries" in Jeffrey Steingarten's excellent book, The Man Who Ate Everything. In this book he gives a recipe (attributed to French master chef, Joel Robuchon) for frites that is so simple, it almost seems like he's playing a joke on us. I've adapted the recipe slightly, as I use a cold-pressed sunflower oil that's excellent for deep-frying (Steingarten suggests peanut oil--something unavailable in Thailand), and unless you're cooking for many people, I feel that measurements are superfluous.

Easy Frites

potatoes
sunflower oil, at room temperature
salt

1. Wash and peel the potatoes (if desired), and cut them into the shape of your choice, keeping in mind that they will shrink when fried. Wash them briefly under cold water and dry with a cloth. Put them into a pan about 10 inches in diameter with sides at least 4 inches high. Just cover the potatoes with the oil.

2. Place the pan over the highest heat. The oil will begin to bubble, first softly and then furiously. Using long tongs, stir the potatoes to ensure that they cook evenly and that they don't stick to the bottom of the pan. By the time the oil reaches 350 degrees F., about 15 minutes, the potatoes will be a deep golden brown and should be ready to eat (Make sure that the oil temperature never exceeds 370 degrees F.).

3. Taste one or two. Drain and blot with paper towels. Salt the frites just before serving.

At this point, I already had some bubbling oil, and also happened to have a small bag of green beans, so I decided to try a recipe I'd come across in the fun section of Portuguese recipes at the excellent Leite's Culinaria. The dish below is called peixinhos da horta, which according to Leite's, is Portuguese for "little fish from the garden", as the dish resembles deep-fried fish that are popular in Portugal.

Peixinhos da Horta (Deep-Fried Green Beans)

1/2 pound green beans
oil for frying
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup water
1 egg
1/2 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper

1. Cook the beans in a large pot of boiling salted water until crisp-tender, about 2 minutes. Drain, cool in a bowl of ice water, and drain again.

2. Heat the oil in a deep fryer or a large saucepan over medium-high heat to 350°F (175°C). Combine the flour, water, eggs, baking powder, salt and pepper in a large bowl; whisk until a smooth batter forms.

3. Dip six beans at a time into the batter, shaking off any excess. Add the beans to the hot oil and fry until golden brown, about 4 minutes per batch. Using tongs, transfer the beans to paper towels to drain. Sprinkle with more salt and serve hot.

Although I've heard that the Portuguese aren't too big on fresh greens, I also included a salad:

The dressing for this (as well as the marinade for the chicken) was made with an excellent Portuguese olive oil I was able to find here in Bangkok, Herdade do Esporão Virgem Extra D.O.P. This is significantly cheaper than the high-end Italian oils available here in Bangkok, but was still very nice, with a slightly spicy flavour, perfect for my:

Portuguese-Style Vinaigrette

3 Tbsp apple cider vinegar
2 pinches salt
good quality Portuguese extra virgin olive oil
1 large clove of garlic

Put the apple cider vinegar in a deep heavy plastic or ceramic bowl. Add salt and using a whisk, mix until salt is dissolved. Add olive oil in a thin stream, whisking constantly. After having added about 3 Tbsps of olive oil, taste the dressing. Stop here if it tastes good to you, or continue adding more olive oil until you reach a taste that you like. Split the garlic clove and add to the dressing. Let the vinaigrette "season" at room temperature for at least an hour.

And finally, there was dessert:

The treats above were brought at Or Tor Kor Market in Bangkok, and are the kind of traditional Thai desserts that one could find almost anywhere in the country--a seemingly un-Portuguese end to our meal. Actually though, the practice of making desserts out of egg yolks and sugar was originally introduced to the Thais by--you guessed it--the Portuguese. In the foreground are foy thong, "golden threads" (fios de ovos in Portuguese) and behind these, thong yip, "pinched gold", named for their colour and the way they're formed. For more on the Portuguese influence on Thai food, check out this piece I wrote for ThaiDay several months ago.

technorati tags: portuguese, cooking, thai, food, recipes

Ram-Saep

I had been entertaining big plans to go back to Baan Chan, a promising restaurant serving the food of Chanthaburi province that I have previously mentioned in this very forum. Well, this morning I finally found the time to go there, only to arrive and find that they're closed on Sundays... In a fit of desparate hunger, we scrambled to what was virtually the nearest restaurant, an outdoor joint called Ram-Saep. Ram is the northern Thai dialect word for delicious, and saep the isaan or northeastern equivalent (central Thais say aroy), so called because this restaurant serves both northern and northeastern Thai food.

This being northern Thai, I couldn't resist ordering laap khua:

Regular readers might have noticed that I'm pretty obsessive about my laap khua. Ram-Saep's was good effort, with more or less the requisite flavours and textures, but nothing compared to the work of a laap khua master like the good people at Laap Khom Huay Puu (scroll down a bit).

Next was nam phrik nam puu:

This is a 'dip' made from the small black crabs that are found in the rice fields of SE Asia. The crabs are crushed and boiled down into a thick black sludge that more or less tastes like you imagine boiled crab sludge would. Bitter is the main flavour here, and if you're not a fan of this taste you probably won't be writing the people at home abou the nam phrik naam puu. The dip was served with sides of cripy veggies and deep-fried pork for dipping.

There was jor phak kaat, a soup of a leafy green veggie popular in northern Thailand:

This was my personal favorite dish of the day. The broth was sour with healthy chunks of garlic and the vegetable was just undercooked and pleasantly crunchy.

Moving to issan food, we ordered kai yaang, grilled chicken:

and a mighty good one at that. The dish featured a reasonably scrawny chicken (this is a good thing) with fatty skin that was rubbed with crushed garlic, coriander roots and black pepper, rendering the dipping sauce unecessary. Delish.

And finally, a som tam, green papaya salad:

which was served in a cute mini mortar. This dish was mediocre, being a bit too sweet for my taste, and bordering on the souplike.

Ram-Saep is of the outdoor 'garden' restaurant variety, which means rustic bamboo furniture, loud live music and stray dogs begging for your scraps. This sort of atmosphere is best appreciated at night, when it's cooler and you have some time to throw down a few cold beers with your meal.

Ram-Saep
02 909 2850

Jay

Every year at October, many Thais of Chinese origin choose to wear white, abstain from eating meat (and garlic and alcohol), and spend lots of time at the temple. Apparently there are significant historical and religious reasons behind all this, but we're really only interested in the food, aren't we?

And there's much to be had at this week-long festival. Many restaurants choose to serve only vegetarian food (known in Thai as ahaan jay), advertising their choice by flying the yellow flag seen above. Not all of the food is very good, but it's a fun time to try new things that aren't normally available. I happened to be in Yaowarat, Bangkok's Chinatown, the center of much of this meat-free madness, and did some exploring. I started the day with a tasty dish of kwaytiaow lord:

hearty rice noodles topped with a few different kinds of tofu and bean sprouts. This was accompanied by a to-go bag of delicious deep-fried spring rolls:

These two dishes more or less set the tone of the day, as despite this being a vegetarian festival, there are surprisingly few vegetables to be seen. Starchy stuff such as noodles:

and steamed buns:

make up the bulk of this "vegetarian" cuisine. Apparently the Chinese have a difficult time parting with their beloved flesh, making their vegetarian food as similar to meat possible, as illustrated in the astonishingly lifelike "duck" meat below:

as well as the wide variety of amazingly realistic vegetarian "meats" for sale at talaat mai, Chinatown's main market:

It's hard to see, but above are veggie "shrimp", veggie "salted fish", and believe it or not, vegetarian pork intestines!

Continuing along Thanon Yaowarat, Chinatown's main street, there was lots to see, including people making deliciously crispy peanut snacks:

crepe-like snacks made from a light batter poured through a seive:

and a huge pot of sangkhayaa, egg and coconut milk dipping sauce for paa thong ko, Chinese-style deep-fried dough:

I even came across an entire stall selling an array of northern Thai dishes, all made without meat:

including the famous northern curry kaeng hang lay, which was made with vegetarian pork belly!

I headed over to Wat Mangkon Kamalawat, Chinatown's most sacred temple, and a centre of activity for this festival. There were lots of people in white praying:

and lighting incense:

And there was even food available right at the temple. I ordered my favourite jay dish, yellow noodles fried with veggies:

Which, if you'll look closely, even included some fresh greens! It was, I felt, an appropriate end to a day spent going veggie.

A few bonus pics can be seen here.

Flava

I must begin by admitting that I'm really lagging behind on this one; Chubby Hubby scooped me by visiting Flava, the brand-new Dream Hotel's funky Thai restaurant, several weeks ago. You can see his description and wonderful pics here. But I already had plans to visit the restaurant for an article I was working on, and thought it would be fun to couple this with a blog on my meal.

All meals at Flava start with a complimentary dish of khao tang na tang:

This is essentially puffed rice crackers served with a dipping sauce. I normally like this dish, but when I saw the recipe that Chubby Hubby had got from Flava's chef, I was pretty skeptical. The inclusion of red curry paste makes it seem like the kind of Thai dish inspired by a recipe on the back of a box of American Pad Thai Noodles. It was better than that, although it still lacked the salty savouriness that this dish should have.

Our meal proper started with Yam chao suan, a "salad" of banana flower and young coconut with prawns and shredded chicken:

This odd combination of ingredients was, well... odd, but not bad. I'm not a big fan of banana flower to begin with, so the tart, astringent taste didn't really win me over. It looks lovely though, doesn't it?

In an effort to order something slightly unusual, I chose Lon ta jiew:

This dish, a savoury "dip" of fermented soybeans, coconut milk and fresh herbs, is a really Thai dish that one doesn't normally see on too many menus. Flava's version was just OK, definately nothing to write home about. The requisite saltiness of the fermented soybeans just wasn't there, and there was little hint of the lemongrass, kaffir lime leaf, galingal and other fresh herbs that should be in full force here. And the selection of veggies served along with the dish was pretty dull.

Next was Bour thot goong, shrimp wrapped in bai cha phluu, wild tea leaf, and deep-fried a la tempura:

A fun, and well-prepared dish.

We also had Goong tom yam hang, a "dry" tom yam consisting mostly huge prawns:

At this point, you might have noticed a trend: prawns. Upscale Thai restaurants tend to unmercifully unload prawns on their diners. My theory on this is that in the West, prawns, at least large, good-quality ones, are very expensive, and chefs here can easily wow foreign diners (who constitute the vast majority at upscale Thai restaurants--Thais eat elsewhere) by including them at every turn. To the restaurant's credit, the prawn dishes were all done very well, including the above, and it was probably our own fault for ordering so many dishes that included them. But like many upscale Thai restaurants, the menu seemed to be dominated by this one ingredient.

The hands-down winner of the meal was the Geang prik kraduk moo, "Pork spare ribs braised in black peppercorns and red curry":

This is a variant of a southern Thai dish, and it was clear that the chef was confident about this one--not a surprise as Flava's Sous Chef is a native of Phuket. The curry was spicy, but it was the warmth of black pepper, rather than the burn of chilies. The pork was tender, and as you can see, the herbs are there in full force. I can still taste this one.

Flava's dining room is super funky, and I loved the unorthadox presentation of the dishes, especially the splashes of turmeric-laced oil and the grindings of black pepper. I'd recommend it to novice Thai diners, or to those looking for solid and tasty, but not exceptional Thai food, in an exceptional setting.

Flava
Dream Hotel
10 Sukhumvit Soi 15, Bangkok
02 254 8500
www.dreambkk.com

Penang

Penang appears to be the latest hot destination among SE Asian foodbloggers. Chubby Hubby was there, Karen of ramblingspoon recently made a visit, and of course there's Bee of Rasa Malaysia, a native of the place, and a frequent blogger on the food of her hometown. If you ask me, all this attention is justified, as Penang has got to be one of the greatest food cities in SE Asia. I was able to learn this firsthand on a visit to the city a week ago. I have been to Penang several times previously, but was always kind of overwhelmed by the food scene there. I'm not too knowledgeable about Chinese food, which forms the bulk of eats in Penang, and couldn't tell a lo bak from an oh chien if my life depended on it. However, with the help of the previously mentioned Bee, I was able to make some sense of Penang's eats, and had a fantastic three day long meal. If you're thinking of visiting yourself, go to her blog where you'll find an amazing resource for Penang food-related info.

Street food in Penang takes several forms. The most well-known are the city's hawker centres. There are semi-contained areas that are specifically designated for selling street food, essentially keeping the food off the streets! My favorite example of this was the Gurney Drive Hawker Centre:

This was the largest, although possibly most "commercial" hawker centre I came across in Penang. It's popular among tourists, but there are also lots of locals. And there's an amazing array of food, ranging from all the various Chinese treats that Penang is associated with, to Malaysian and even Indian eats. I personally liked the rojak:

a 'salad' of crispy fruits and vegetables (such as pineapple, cucumber, jicama, among others) mixed up with a copious sweet/savoury shrimp paste sauce and topped with ground peanuts--when done well among the most delicious things in the world.

Also delcious were fried oysters:

Unlike the Thai dish , which tends to be cripsy and flavourless, oh chien, as they are known here, have a soft texture, lots of egg, and a delicious garlicky flavour. The oysters are tiny things often the size of a fingernail, but are almost never overcooked and are, well, just OK. The dish as a whole is great though.

For a hawker centre that's a bit more "authentic" there's the gritty collection of stalls known as New Lane:

Here I enjoyed chee cheong fun:

a deciptively simple dish of steamed noodles sprinkled with sesame and served with three different sauces. I say deceptively because the dish looks bland, but the sauces, in particular the spicy/savoury one, had an incredible depth of flavour, and the noodles were tender and delicious.

If you need more noodles, this guy makes a popular won ton soup:

but I was more interested in trying some authentic satay:

The above was prepared by this lady:

who, as you can see, intentionally used fatty pieces of meat and let them flare up, which gave the sate a wonderfully smoky flavour.

The food fun in Penang isn't limited to the night. In fact it starts out quite early, at Penang's morning market. There, in addition to the various raw ingredients, you can also find prepared foods such as Chinese-style curries and fried dishes:

Kuay kak:

essentially fried cubes of dough. This is not something that would normally appeal to me, but the combination of the salty sauce and charred essence of the pan made this dish delicious. It was actually quite similiar in form and flavour to the fried oysters.

Loh bak,

proved to be one of my favorite snacks. This dish consists of tender pork, and I believe, crab and/or shrimp, wrapped in a sheet tofu skin and deep-fried. The result is served with two dipping sauces, one sweet/sour and one a bit more salty/savoury.

As if this wasn't enough, there are also hawker centres and food courts that are only open during lunch time. A good example of this can be found on Lorong Selamat where I enjoyed the Penang favorite, char kway teow:

wide rice noodles fried with chili sauce, egg, cockles and shrimp.

Normally I'm not a big fan of Asian sweets, but the iced kacang at Swatow Lane converted me:

This is basically finely crushed iced topped with a seemingly random array of sweet things such as syrup, grass jelly, beans and here, sliced jackfruit. On a hot Penang day I can't imagine anything more refreshing.

Many of the daytime hawker stalls are like large indoor cafes:

and serve dishes such as assam laksa:

a thick broth of fish and fresh herbs, served with thick udon-like noodles. This is among Penang's most famous foods.

And come evening again, if you haven't got time for an entire meal, then a good option is lok lok:

This is a variety of skewered meats and veggies, which you dip in a boiling water to cook, and then top with one of two sauces before eating. Standing room only.

For me, a special highlight of Penang food was the amazing diversity of Indian and Muslim foods. Both of these are somewhat hard to find in Bangkok, so I always eat my fill when I'm in Malaysia. I was in for a special treat during my visit to Penang, as it coincided with ramadan, where at the end of every day of fasting, known as the buka puasa, several stalls selling food emerge on the streets. Penang's Little India had a great deal of these, and a particularly popular treat was a kind of bread known as roti jala:

The weblike shape is made by pouring the liquid batter through a seive:

Other treats included fresh coconut juice:

and some obscenely sweet-looking fried bread:

Not to mention a whole host of other sweet foods (does fasting create a desire for sweet foods?):

If I had any complaint about Penang's street food, it would probably be the extreme lack of vegetables and the extreme overabundance of starch. Penang's Chinese community seems to survive on noodles alone, with the Muslim community seemingly surviving on rice (or breads) and meat. And between either of these, there's hardly any green to be seen. There is of course lots of southern Indian vegetarian, which is delicious, but the veggies are usually pretty overcooked and mushy. Followers of weird American reduced carbohydrate diets consider yourselves forewarned...

Thanon Tanao

Today we're going on a field trip to

This is a street in Ko Rattanakosin, Olde Bangkok, that is known for its Chinese shophouse architecture and its insane variety of eats. I have to admit that I'm somewhat of a newcomer to Thanon Tanao. I've passed through several times, but it wasn't until relatively recently that I discovered just how much good food there is here.

Here's a view of the street from the Ratchadamnoen Klang end:

On the right you'll see our first stop, Kim Leng:

This is small restaurant that serves up good central Thai/Bangkok fare such as curries, dips and Chinese stir fries. Most of the dishes are made in advance, so you can just choose whatever looks good, and they also make some dishes to order. I'd recommend the nam phrik kapi, a shrimp paste "dip" that is served with par-boiled veggies, and battered and deep-fried eggplant and mackerel.

Next, for fans of isaan (northeast Thai) food, we go a couple blocks up the street to a place called Kai Yaang Boraan (02 622 2349), which serves grilled chicken, papaya salad and other Lao-style specialties. It's not the best isaan food you'll ever find, but I think it's a very good introduction to the cuisine, as they have all the standards and the shop is spotless. It's also probably the only air-conditioned restaurant along the strip.

Continuing on the same side of the street, the next interesting place we'll come to is Raad Naa Yod Phak:

As the name suggests, this place serves raad naa, noodles in a sticky broth that I don't really care for. Much better, in my opinion, is phat see iw:

These are the same noodles as raad naa, but are fried "dry" with the addition of soy sauce, egg, pork, and the tender shoots of kai lan. They do an excellent job here, frying the noodles up in a huge wok that allows them to get slightly burnt and acquire a delicious smoky flavor.

Passing a large Chinese shrine, we now reach a street called Thanon Phraeng Nara. This is an excellent food street, with many of the restaurants located right on the sidewalk.

One of the first places you'll see is Khanom Beuang Phraeng Nara:

Khanom bueang are small "tacos" that come in two forms: salty and sweet. The sweet ones:

are filled with a mixture of shredded egg yolk, coconut meat and dried fruit. They are made on a charcoal stove, so they also have a slightly smoky flavor, and are at their sublime best when hot and crispy. The khanom bueang here are easily among the best Thai desserts I've ever had, and are completely different from the cream-filled impostors you'll find elsewhere in Bangkok.

Just up the road is a popular noodle stand:

Where we'll stop for a quick bowl:

before continuing on. As we u-turn and go back to Thanon Tanao we'll pass a very tempting phat thai kung sot:

But we'll have to say no thanks here, as we still haven't reached our goal, the acclaimed hole-in-the-wall, Chotechitr (02 221 4082):

This is a tiny restaurant that, since having been mentioned in a New York Times article last year, has gained a cult-like following among foreigners in Bangkok. Being the Thai Food Guy, I was tired of sheepishly admitting that, No... I've never actually eaten there... So we're going to make a point of stopping by today. We begin with yam tamleung, a spicy/sour "salad" of tamleung, a vinelike green:

An excellent dish. More than sufficiently sour with just a hint of sweetness, and as we know, a handful of giant prawns and squid never hurt anybody. This is followed by kaeng paa plaa kraay, "jungle" curry with fish dumplings:

A less successful effort, in my opinion. This is a dish that should not under any circumstances be sweet, but in true Bangkok style, bordered on the dessertlike here. The homemade fish dumplings were excellent though. Finally, there was moo thod krathiam phrik thai, pork fried with garlic and peppercorns:

This is my favorite dish, and not just because it contained mad amounts of garlic and pepper, but because it was obvious that the person making it employed some restraint and didn't fry the hell out of it. The pork was tender--possibly the first time I've consumed tender pork in Thailand--and the other flavors, salty and just slightly sweet, were perfectly balanced.

Continuing on the same small street where Chotechitr is found is a small community called Phraeng Phuton. There are several longstanding restaurants here, and one good choice is Udom Pochana:

This place has serving food here for 60 years. They do mostly Chinese-style dishes, such as bamee, wheat-noodle soup, and wonton soup, as well as the somewhat more obscure kalee, "curry":

This is a very old-school dish that is hard to find nowadays and is obviously different that your average Thai curry. The dish is actually more like a gravy than a curry, and there's little trace of spices of any kind. The above was the beef version, and is served with sweet potatoes and cucumber.

This is just a tiny taste of what's available along and around Thanon Tanao. I've yet to visit the place that makes pig brain soup, or the famous Thai ice cream restaurant in Phraeng Phuthon, so there will certainly be additional excursions. Stay tuned.

Lemon Farm

Lemon Farm is a grocery store chain in Bangkok that sells "organic" and "natural" produce and other products. I'm making a point of using "" here because as far as I know, there is no agreed upon standard for organic produce here in Thailand. There is however a great demand for these kind of products, and most grocery stores in Bangkok have a section with products labelled as "safe" or "green" or "healthy". I think that more often than not, these labels are simply slapped on products, along with an increase in price, without any real regard to how their produced. Regardless of this, the produce at Lemon Farm is good, although slightly more expensive than elsewhere. I've been shopping there for years, and like the free-range eggs and formalin-free fish. I also like to buy products that are made by small community organizations and government programs.

A new Lemon Farm opened near my house recently, and we stopped by for lunch. Every branch of Lemon Farm has a small cafe serving a few mostly vegetarian dishes. One of these, khao yam is a southern Thai dish, and takes the form of a "salad" of rice and fresh herbs. The version served at Lemon Farm is not a traditional one, but rather an "herbal" take on the dish, with some unusual additions such as carrot, sesame and brown rice:

The dish traditionally also includes puffed rice, shredded green mango, pomelo, thinly-sliced lemon grass, green beans and "wing beans", dried shrimp, grated coconut, and oh yeah, a bit of rice. The whole lot is topped with a type of southern fish sauce called budu that has been simmered with palm sugar and even more fresh herbs. The best part is mixing all these different ingredients into one big delicious mess:

Despite the unorthodox additions, it is an excellent khao yam, just as good, or even better, than anything you'll get in the south.

The cafe also has khanom jeen, fermented rice noodles served with a curry sauce:

Normally the curry sauce is made from fish (usually plaa chon, snakehead fish), but this being "health" restaurant, the noodles are made from brown rice, and they've substituted the fish with mushrooms. Like khao yam, you also mix a variety of fresh herbs and veggies into the dish:

Despite the lack of fish, it was actually a pretty good khanom jeen by any standards.

Nonthaburi Market (again)

A few months ago I visited the morning market in Nonthaburi and posted some pics. Well I was back there again this morning and took a few more images worth sharing. If you weren't around the first time, Nonthaburi is a province just north of Bangkok whose market is a huge affair located next to the Chao Phraya River. There's lots of fruit from the surrounding provinces, and it's one of the few places in Thailand where you'll see bicycle rickshaws still in action. I'd really recommend it to market hounds or just people interested in Thai food. To get there take the Chao Phraya River Express boat to the northernmost stop, or tell a taxi driver to go to thaa ruea non ("Nonthaburi boat pier"), the market is only a block away.

Selling cutting boards:

which, I've read somewhere, are usually made from tamarind wood.

Dragonfruit:

The flesh inside is white and speckled with tiny black seeds; quite different from the outside!

There's lots of seafood at the Nonthaburi market, including artfully arranged mussels and clams:

a kind of fish known as plaa jeen, "Chinese fish":

and lots of eels and turtles:

Other products from nature include honey:

and some rather attractive pumpkins:

How To Make: Mussel and Pineapple Curry

Coconut milk-based curries are among the first Thai dishes I ever tried to make. And they never turned out right. Never. I didn't know then that these kind of curries are among the most difficult Thai dishes to make. There are a couple reasons for this. For one, there are two very different ways of making them. The most common curries, the ones you see with a layer of oil floating on top, are made my slowly sauteeing the khreuang kaeng (curry paste) in the "thick" coconut milk until the coconut oil "breaks" and emerges to the top. The "thin" or diluted coconut milk is then added towards the end. Alternatively, there curries where you begin with thin coconut milk, and slowly add the thick so that a layer of oil doesn't form! The curry below is the latter, and I think kind is much easier to make. Although one danger with this kind of curry is that it can get too thick and creamy. You want the end result to be just slightly watery, not too thick. If it does get too thick then add some plain water (or dilulted coconut milk) at the end. And remember to season to taste! The pineapple in this recipe will give the curry a sweet taste, so only a bit of sugar (if any) is necessary.

If you follow these directions exactly, and use some good-quality mussels, I guarantee you'll like this one.

Curry with Mussels and Pineapple Kaeng Sapparot Kap Hoy Malaengphoo
(Serves 4)

Ingredients
Curry Paste
Large dried chilies 10, seeds removed, softened in warm water
Small dried chilies 20
Salt 1 tsp
Peppercorns 1 tsp
Galingale, chopped 1 Tbsp
Lemongrass, chopped 3 stalks
Kaffir lime peel, chopped 1 tsp
Garlic 30 small cloves
Chopped fresh turmeric 1 tsp
Shallots 5, sliced
Shrimp paste 1 tsp
Mussels 1 kg
Thin coconut milk* 500 ml
Thick coconut milk** 250 ml
Chopped pineapple 250 ml
Fish sauce 2 Tbsp
Sugar 2 tsp
Tamarind paste 2 Tbsp

*Thin coconut milk is canned coconut milk that has been diluted, 50%, with water.
**Thick coconut milk is the coconut milk that comes directly from the can.

Method
Starting with your curry paste ingredients:

Use a mortar and pestle or a food processor grind them together until you get this:

Set aside.

Wash and de-beard the mussels. Bring a large pot of a water to the boil and add the mussels, and boil until they open, about 3 minutes. When cool enough to handle, remove the meat and set aside. Discard the shells.

Over medium heat, bring the thin coconut milk to a gentle boil. Add the curry paste and stir until fully blended with the coconut milk.

Increase heat slightly and add mussels and pineapple.

Gradually add remaining thick coconut milk, about 1/4 cup at a time, stirring to combine. Don't let the curry boil to rapidly, or the undesired coconut oil might separate. Add fish sauce, sugar and tamarind. Bring to a final boil and add remaining thick coconut milk.

Serve hot with rice as part of a Thai meal.

Code questions...

Users of Internet Explorer should now be able to see my sidebar where it should be--at the side of the page, but it naughtily refuses to line up with my banner. Anybody with the requisite knowledge of code know how to correct this?

Thanks!

Kai Tong

Isaan (northeast Thai) food is something you can't avoid here in Bangkok. I reckon there's more som tam, kai yaang and sticky rice here than in the whole of northeast Thailand. A lot of it tends to be pretty hardcore streetfood; think tripe and liver hanging from rusty hooks, dripping blood on shredded papaya, the whole lot coated with a delicate but fragrant film of auto exhaust. Alternatively there's lots of isaan mall food; chain restaurants serving well-presented and generally clean isaan food, but made for Bangkok tongues (read: sweet). For the most part, there's not a whole lot of the well-prepared, authentic, sanitary in-between. Luckily I recently came across a place that comes pretty close. Kai Tong ("rooster"), located on Soi Sena 1, is an old-school sitdown restaurant complete with upholstered booths and uniformed wait staff. Definately not the norm for an isaan place.

We started with the restaurant's specialty, kai yaang, grilled chicken:

And a mighty good bird it was. I think they claim it is kai baan, free-range chicken, but it actually had a bit too much meat on the bone for my taste (chicken meat is virtually tasteless--it's the fat and skin that tastes good. Believe me.). The chicken comes with a sweet syrup, chili and plum-based dip, and an absolutely delicious jaew, salty/spicy/sour dip made from dried chilies and tamarind pulp.

Following this was som tam pu plaa raa, Lao/isaan-style papaya salad with salted rice field crabs and a thick form of fish sauce:

Almost perfect. If they hadn't beaten the life out of the papaya with the mortar and pestle it would have been perfect. One thing, okay, two things I like about the som tam here is that they're not afraid to add garlic, a lot of garlic, and it's exceedingly sour.

And finally we had tom saeb, an issan-style sour soup:

We're not big meat eaters, so we asked for mushrooms instead. Not bad, but a little too sweet. Do like the presentation though.

The only bad thing I could say about the restaurant is that the isaan menu isn't very expansive. They have the 10 or so favorites that you can find pretty much anywhere. They do do them quite well though!

Kai Tong is located on Soi Sena 1, about 2 km from the intersection with Phaholyothin.

Thai Fusion

One of the most bizarre dishes in Thailand is khao phat amerikan, American fried rice. This is rice that has been fried--like we always do back home in the States--with the addition of ketchup, sliced hot dogs and raisins, and if you're lucky, a fried egg. Other than this culinary train wreck, there aren't too many dishes in Thailand that attempt to combine Western and Thai cooking. Steaks (i.e. pork chops) are popular, especially in Bangkok, but fried meat is more or less universal, and there's no lemongrass or kaffir lime leaf involved. "Bread" (I use this term in the loosest sense possible) is also very common throughout the country, but for the most part takes the form of fluffy, sweet imitations of Real Bread, without any real attempt to make it "Thai". You'll also be hard-pressed to find tom yam pot pies or green curry with salmon (actually, I could be wrong here). In general, Thais like their Thai food Thai, and their Western food staunchly quasi-Western. However, one dish that successfully combines both Thai and Western cooking is spaghetti plaa khem, spaghetti with salted fish,

Lest you assume in your haste that "salted fish" refers to anchovies, it's actually the very Thai plaa insee, Spanish mackerel. At the neighborhood joint where I consumed the above, a chunk of this extremely salty fish was deep-fried until crispy, before being broken up and sauteed with some garlic, dried chilies and oddly enough, canned mushrooms, the only time I've ever seen or eaten this stuff in Thailand. This was briefly sauteed with spaghetti and topped with bai horaphaa, Thai sweet basil, that had been deep-fried until crispy. The result was salty, spicy and satisfying, and although it wasn't capable of inspiring misty-eyed reflections of my youth in the Old Country quite like American fried rice can, it was still a pretty good lunch.

Eating the island (re-run)

Many of the images and much of the content of the article below have been shown here on a previous post, but I'm reposting it to provide some info for a fellow foodie over at Chowhound. It also happens to be my personal favorite of the articles I did for ThaiDay, a now-defunct paper here in Bangkok. Enjoy!

Eating the island
ThaiDay, 22/07/06

Walk down the streets of virtually any part of Koh Samui and you can find restaurants selling the food Italy, Japan, Greece, Australia, England and Germany. Ironically, one cuisine missing from all this is the cuisine of Koh Samui, a variant of southern Thai cooking with a unique island touch. The cooking of Koh Samui remained relegated to home kitchens and housewives until relatively recently, when a few natives decided to share their secrets with the rest of us.

A fishing village on the coast of Ko Samui

“I was the first person to open a restaurant on Koh Samui featuring local food,” explains Sookhkoe Donsai, the owner of Bangpo Seafood (077 420 010). Wearing only shorts and a smile, Ta Koe (“Grandpa Koe”), as he is affectionately known, is a native of Samui, and owner of one of the island’s most well respected Thai restaurants.

“I used to be a lawyer and got to travel all over Thailand,” explains the 58 year-old. “I noticed that each province had a place to sample its local dishes, which made me realize that Koh Samui had nothing like this. So after coming back home, I opened this restaurant.” This was 13 years ago, and today the success of Ta Koe’s restaurant has largely been responsible for inspiring other Thai restaurants on Koh Samui to include local dishes on their menus.

Khoey jii, a dip of shrimp paste and coconut, Bangpo Seafood, Ko Samui.

The emphasis at Ta Koe’s restaurant, as well as the base for much of Koh Samui’s native cuisine is, not surprisingly, seafood. However, unlike the grilled prawn and phat thai cuisine featured in most tourist restaurants, the food of Koh Samui is spicy and salty, featuring strong flavors and making good use of the ingredients at hand.

Often these ingredients tend to be the relatively easy to gather items that can be found just offshore, such as the devoutly inedible-looking sea urchin. Ta Koe explains that during the right season, the people of Koh Samui would pry the sea urchins off of the coral, crack them open and eat the rich roe found inside. At Bangpo Seafood raw sea urchin roe is mixed with curry paste, shredded mango and chilies into a yam, or Thai-style salad. “The salad has to be sour and spicy to counter the fishy taste of the urchin,” explains Ta Koe. A taste reveals that the salad is indeed spicy, but rather than tasting simply fishy as Ta Koe describes it, suggests the pungent saltiness of Samui’s clear waters.

Yam hoy men, a 'salad' of raw sea urchin roe, Bangpo Seafood, Ko Samui.

Another fruit of the sea available at Bangpo Seafood is a small octopus known locally as waay. “It comes out early in the morning when the water is cool,” explains Ta Koe of the mollusk, which is considered a staple of Samui cooking. Ta Koe goes on to say that when in season, fresh waay is used in tom som, a spicy/sour soup similar to tom yam, and out of season, the dried meat is quickly rejuvenated in water before being stewed with fresh coconut milk and bruised herbs, a dish equal parts sweet, salty and savory.

Fish is another staple food on Koh Samui, and at Bangpo Seafood fresh fish is prepared using a local method known as hoop ping, meaning that it is splayed and rubbed with a mixture of coconut milk, fresh turmeric, black pepper and salt before being grilled over coals. The turmeric mixture gives the fish a pleasant orange hue, eliminates any “fishy” odors, and negates the need for any dipping sauce.

Grilled fish Samui-style, with turmeric and coconut milk, Bangpo Seafood, Ko Samui.

The residents of Ko Samui have long made use of the sea’s other treasures, notably its seaweed, and one place to sample this unique ingredient is Kin Khao Bang Kham (077 426 181), another seafood restaurant whose menu features a few local dishes.

Toom, the restaurant’s head chef and a native of Koh Samui describes how the seaweed, known as saraay khor, is gathered from the beach in the mornings after the tide recedes. “It’s getting harder and harder to find nowadays,” he laments. Toom, who was interviewed on a Thai TV program about this very ingredient, goes on to explain that the seaweed is then rinsed and par-boiled before being combined with other ingredients in a Thai-style salad, a dish that has made the restaurant popular among locals. “The seaweed [off of Koh Samui] is very good,” he says. “The ocean floor is muddy, which is good for the seaweed and makes it fat and crunchy.”

Local produce at a market on Ko Samui.

Not all of the ingredients found in the Samui kitchen come from the sea. Indeed, Koh Samui’s cash crop is coconut, the extracted milk of which seems to find its way into virtually every local dish. “People from Samui feel that if they eat a soup or curry that doesn’t have coconut milk they don’t feel full.” This according to Sermsi Thongrueang, a native of Samui and owner of a traditional sauna and massage business located in her family’s 80 year-old home just minutes from the sea.

Sermsi, who also has a reputation as a knowledgeable cook, has agreed to demonstrate how to make two local dishes, both of which include coconut milk. The first dish is known locally as khao man thua khiaow, and is simply rice cooked in coconut milk along with salt and dried beans, a dish that, despite its simplicity, has become very hard to find nowadays. “We used to make it in a clay pot,” explains Sermsi. “This adds to the flavor.” Today however Sermsi makes the dish in an electric rice cooker, something of an anomaly in her ancient teak wood home.

A grove of coconut palms, Ko Samui.

As an accompaniment to the rich rice dish, Sermsi makes khoey jii, a unique side dish of roasted shrimp paste. Marching into her sandy yard the energetic 65 year-old comes back with a single coconut that she thrusts onto an exposed stake to pry away its thick husk. Taking the coconut into the kitchen she cracks it open and uses a traditional sit-down shredder to extract some of the mature meat inside. This meat is ground up in a mortar and pestle along with shrimp paste, chilies, garlic and shallots, and the resulting paste is spread onto the inside portion of a coconut shell and grilled over coals until fragrant.

The dishes are, like much of local Samui cuisine, salty and pleasantly oily, and employ ingredients that can be found with little effort. “Before, people on Koh Samui didn’t have to buy anything,” reflects Sermsi. “We fished ourselves, raised chickens and grew coconut. The only thing we ever had to buy was pork.”

Sermsi Thongreuang grating coconut the traditional way at her home on Ko Samui.

Also making good use of the abundant coconut is Sabeinglae (077 233 082), an open-air seafood restaurant largely frequented by locals.

“I don’t know how to cook, but I know how the food should taste,” reveals Sabeinglae’s owner, Amnat Chotchong. “I grew up right here on the beach, and I’ve been eating this food since I was a kid.” When asked where the recipes in his restaurant come from, Amnat describes how at community or religious festivals, where there tends to be lots of communal food, he would taste the different dishes, find the best one, and ask the cook how she made it. “These old ladies don’t mind giving their secrets away,” he laughs.

A Samui-style stirfry of squid, coconut milk and fresh herbs, Sabeinglae Restaurant, Ko Samui.

One such find is Sabeinglae’s kaeng khua het loop, a rich coconut milk-based curry using het loop, the small anemone-like beche-de-mer found on the coral surrounding Koh Samui. The curry is thick but not oily, and is laced with a generous handful of fragrant-but-spicy cumin leaves, another common ingredient on Koh Samui. Like many of the ingredients in local dishes, the het loop is strictly seasonal, close at hand, and comes from the sea; just some of the elements of a delicious island cuisine that is finally being discovered.

a fiery thai fix

appetite, August-September 2006

Pok, pok pok! This sound, the unmistakable hollow thud of unripe papaya being pounded in a clay mortar, is a rallying call for Thailand’s favorite dish, som tam. Unlike other foods where a delicious odor or artful presentation is the impetus to dig in, the advertising technique of the som tam vendor is a bell-like ring, which for many has become associated with this spicy snack.

Som tam, a salad of strips of crispy green papaya, has its origins in the rural kitchens of northeastern Thailand. The recipe is a probably recent one, as the many of the main ingredients (papaya, tomatoes, chilies, limes) were first brought to Thailand from South America in the 16th century. Nonetheless, the dish spread quickly and can now be found in virtually every city in Thailand, and is by all accounts the de facto national dish. In a country with such a diversity of food, what is it about this particular invention that makes it so popular?

One explanation is that som tam successfully combines all four of the essential flavours of Thai cooking: hot, sour, salty and sweet. In this case the hot comes from the liberal use of fresh chilies, the sour from a squeeze of lime juice, the salty from fish sauce, and the sweet from palm sugar. Another reason for its popularity is that the dish is a nearly perfect snack food, its intense spiciness providing a mental “full” while at the same time still being relatively light. Thus som tam can and is consumed between meals on street corners and in office buildings, a fiery fix to hold one over until the next meal.

Som tam can be neatly divided into two schools. The isaan or northeastern Thai style is considered by many to be the “real” som tam, and features hearty strips of papaya pounded up with chilies and a thick, unfiltered fish sauce known as plaa raa. The salad is typically bulked out with ingredients ranging from preserved freshwater crabs to ma kok, a tart fruit. The other type of som tam is a more modern take favored by city dwellers that revolves around fine threads of crispy papaya dressed with bottled fish sauce, tomatoes, green beans, roasted peanuts and dried shrimp. This version tends to emphasize sweet and sour flavors, and is generally eaten as a snack. Regardless of the style, som tam is always made to order, and the degree of spiciness or tartness is determined by the customer.

Despite its popularity, som tam is still largely relegated to the streets, and in a case of reverse discrimination, som tam vendors are almost exclusively female. The dish is made by first bruising the more resilient ingredients, a few small cloves of garlic, the pasty palm sugar, and a generous handful of tiny fresh chilies. Next, a handful of shredded green papaya is added and the mixture is given a few strong thumps before adding a splash of fish sauce and a squeeze of fresh lime or tamarind pulp. At this point the som tam is simultaneously mixed and pounded, often using a spoon along with the wooden pestle in an effort to combine the flavours thoroughly.

As a reminder of its northeastern origins, som tam is typically served with sticky rice, the staple grain of this part of the country, as well as a side dish of raw vegetables and herbs typically including Thai basil, sliced cucumber and strips of cabbage, believed to help counteract the spiciness of the dish. Order a plate of kai yang, grilled chicken with your som tam and sticky rice, and you have yourself a complete northeastern Thai-style meal.

Regardless of how you eat it, som tam is a virtual embodiment of Thai food, a time-tested combination of simple and fresh ingredients boasting strong flavors. The sound effects are a bonus.

For those seeking more info on the subject, an excellent article titled "Thai Soul" written by James Oseland, the new editor of Saveur, is available at his website.

How To Make: Oxtail Soup

Regular readers will know that I'm a big fan of Thai-Muslim cuisine. I like the dried spices, something that's rarely found in "Buddhist" Thai cooking, I love khao mok, Thai-style biryani, and most importantly, I also live a mere couple kilos from one of the best Muslim restaurants in town. But I also like to make ahaan mussalim at home, and today I made sup haang wua, Muslim-style oxtail soup, for the first time.

The recipe below is taken from an excellent Thai-language cookbook called ahaan mussalim ("Muslim Food", published by Sang Dad press), although I've altered it considerably (the original recipe called for 2 kg of oxtails!). One thing to keep in mind is that when making any kind of Thai food, don't follow the seasoning directions to the last word. Season to reach a taste that you find favorable, or the primary flavor that the particular dish should have. For instance, this dish should be sour, followed by salty. This basic recipe could also be followed, with some obvious alterations, to make an excellent chicken soup as well.

Oxtail Soup Sup Haang Wua
(Serves 4)

Ingredients
Oxtails 1 kg
Butter 3 Tbsp
Cardamom 4
Cloves 5
Cinnamon 2 small pieces
Onion, chopped 3 Tbsp
Garlic, chopped 2 Tbsp
Ginger, sliced 5 slices
Freshly roasted and ground
coriander seeds 3/4 Tbsp
Freshly roasted and ground
cumin 1/2 Tbsp
Turmeric powder 1/4 tsp
Water 2 l
Crispy fried shallots 100 ml
Salt 3 Tbsp
Coriander root 3
Onion 1/2 large, sliced
Tomato 2, seeded and sliced
Lime juice 100 ml
Small chilies 20, bruised
Coriander 1 bunch, chopped

Method
Place oxtails in a large saucepan and cover with water. Bring to a boil over high heat, remove from heat and drain water. Set oxtails aside.

In another large saucepan, heat butter over medium-low heat and add cardamom, cloves, cinnamon, chopped onion, garlic and ginger. Saute over medium-low heat until onion is translucent, and add ground coriander, ground cumin, turmeric powder. Saute until ingredients are yellow and fragrant, about two minutes. Add oxtails, water and half of the crispy fried shallots and increase heat. When mixture has reached a boil, reduce heat to a simmer and add and coriander roots and salt. Allow to simmer until oxtails are soft and falling off the bone, at least 2 hours.

Add onion and tomato and half of the lime juice and chilies. Allow mixture to simmer an additional 10 minutes. Taste and add additional salt, lime juice or chilies if necessary. Remove from heat.

Garnish with coriander and remaining crispy fried shallots and serve with rice.