Tag: Thai

For Crying Out Loud

Thailand is a vegan paradise any day of the year. The word “jay” (เจ) is the key that will unlock centuries of Buddhist tradition, built on the principles of compassion towards all creatures. Splashed across yellow flags, restaurant signs, market stalls, and food packages, it’s as common as seeing an “open” sign on establishments elsewhere.

During Thailand’s annual Vegetarian Festival, it’s the only game in town, transforming even the most meat-centric dishes with plant-based makeovers. Experiencing firsthand how incredible the food scene was on a random visit in January, I can’t begin to imagine such superabundance on display. It’s a dream of mine to return in time for the festivities, though I may truly eat myself to ruin, given half a chance.

Much of the attraction is the opportunity to eat traditional Thai foods that usually don’t come with a naturally vegan or vegetarian option. Something like Crying Tiger (เสือร้องไห้; Suea Rong Hai) is exactly what I would make a beeline for. As meat-centric as main dishes come, it’s essentially just grilled beef served with Nam Jim Jaew (น้ำจิ้มแจ่ว). Bold yet balanced, a riot of intense flavors, it’s a deceptively simple dish that packs a serious punch. Despite how central the beef is to the whole concept, it’s just as simple to make it meatless.

While I remain firmly grounded for this year’s Vegetarian Festival, the distance won’t stop me from getting a taste of the celebration at home. Lion’s mane mushrooms are truly the beef of the earth, capable of being compressed into outrageously decadent steaks, the likes of which could satiate the most ravenous omnivore. A hard sear and heavy weight develops a smoky, charred crust encasing a succulent and tender interior, ideal for dousing in that fiery dipping sauce for a final kiss of heat.

The name “Crying Tiger” is considerably more contested than its ingredient list. There are plenty of theories about what exactly brought those tears to the tiger’s eyes. My favorite is the most folkloric, imagining that people would come across the remains of cattle hunted by tigers, with the brisket left behind. They would take this particularly rich cut for themselves, imagining the tiger looking back in regret at the delicious morsel it had abandoned. Hopefully it’s some consolation to our tiger that there was no kill necessary to make this particular prize.

Even if you skip the entree, don’t pass on the jaew. Even if you make the entree, you’re best advised to double the jaew. This potent mixture of dried chiles, lime juice, toasted rice powder, and shallot is the sort of condiment that makes itself indispensable, bringing enough heat, acidity, and depth to transform whatever happens to be within dipping distance. Though it usually contains fish sauce, I find that a combination of soy sauce and tamarind fills the gap with all the salty, tangy, pungent umami you could ask for.

Crying Tiger is served without fanfare or pretension, alongside a mound of sticky rice and fresh vegetables or herbs to temper the intensity. I like keeping that same spirit here. Let the lion’s mane take center stage, supported by a cooling, gently contrasting cast of characters. A few slices of crisp cucumbers, juicy tomato wedges, or fresh lettuce is all you really need, though you could always add a side of papaya salad or a light vegetable soup to stretch your entree into more servings.

Thailand will have to wait. Until then, homemade sliced lion’s mane mushroom steak, glossy with with fiery jaew, is hardly suffering. When you eat enough hot chilies to bring tears to your own eyes, you can almost imagine the tiger’s face when it realizes the best part of the meal has escaped its paws yet again.

Continue reading “For Crying Out Loud” →

Hannah (BitterSweet)Leave a comment

Noodles You Should Know: Yen Ta Fo

As pungent as it is vibrant, there’s no mistaking yen ta fo. Known for their unearthly pink color, these eye-catching noodles are an arresting sight, luminous bowlfuls of broth in night markets across Thailand. So bold that it borders on theatrical, yet its origins are anything but artificial.

From Teochew to Thai

Yen ta fo (เย็นตาโฟ) is Thai street food at its best; a riotous mosaic of contrasting textures and tastes. Soft rice noodles, ranging from delicately thin vermicelli to luxuriously wide sen yai, bathe in that unmistakable pink soup, introduced through a curtain of steam. Its origins are somewhat of a collage as well, owing much to its Chinese roots, brought over by Teochew (Chaozhou) immigrants to Thailand. The name itself comes from the Chinese dialects, with “yen” meaning red or pink, and “ta fo” derived from “dou fu” (tofu).

Pretty in Pink, Funky in Flavor

The tofu in question is the single most important part of the dish, the defining factor that imparts that unforgettable rosy hue. Fermented bean curd, preserved with salt, rice wine, and chilies, melts into the broth with a slow-building intensity that lingers in both color and flavor. Its pungency is complex, funky and brash, but also surprisingly mellow when simmered. Some unscrupulous vendors enhance their soup with food coloring, though such shenanigans are wholly unnecessary when working with the genuine article.

Build Your Bowl

What goes into the bowl after that is part tradition, part personal preference. Most renditions begin with the usual suspects of Thai noodle soup, such as airy tofu puffs, tendrils of morning glory (water spinach), mushrooms (most often wood ear, AKA black fungus), wonton chips, and crunchy fried garlic. Historically a seafood-focused dish, the standard build would usually feature various fish balls, squid, sliced fish cake, or the occasional pink-tinged crab stick, though fully vegan versions aren’t too hard to come by.

Season and Slurp

Yen ta fo isn’t meant to be perfectly balanced out of the kitchen. Like many Thai noodle soups, it arrives awaiting your hand at the condiment station. Here, you can fine-tune the experience with a splash of vinegar for brightness, a touch of sugar to amplify the sweetness, chili flakes or chili oil for heat, and a dash of vegan fish sauce for that crave-worthy hit of umami.

Pink of Perfection

For all its flamboyance, yen ta fo is an everyday dish, which is a large part of its appeal. Accessible, affordable, and ubiquitous across Thailand’s markets and food courts, all the locals know the marvels of yen ta fo. It rarely makes its way to Western menus, perhaps because of its peculiar color or its potentially polarizing flavors. That’s a real shame, because yen ta fo is a real sensory delight in its juxtapositions; dressed in neon pink but grounded in deep, savory flavors, its beautiful chaos in a bowl.

Hannah (BitterSweet)11 Comments

Can I Prik Your Brain?

“Try to guess the secret ingredient. The seeds kind of give it away.”

Squinting hard into bowl of rapidly diminishing dip, as if staring more intensely would reveal a hidden message, I racked my brain. I could taste chilies, of course, which the seeds could be attributed to, but isn’t that too obvious? There was an undercurrent of garlic beneath the heat, a blast of sour lime, the salty, umami flavor of fermented soy… But what’s the base?

What is Nam Prik?

Nam prik is more than a mere condiment in Thai cuisine. Traditionally built on a foundation of fermented shrimp paste, it’s an appetizer, sauce, sandwich spread, and party starter all in one. Powerfully flavorful with an intense balance of sweet, sour, spicy, and salty tastes, it’s heady stuff that you won’t soon forget. Reimagined by my good friend and talented chef Philip Gelb, I struggled to pick apart the fully melded components.

Not-So-Secret Ingredient

At the risk of jeopardizing my foodie cred, I admitted defeat. “Eggplant,” he professed, with a conspiratorial grin. Raw eggplant, no less. Green Thai eggplant, unlike the Italian, Chinese, or Japanese varieties, can be eaten raw. Crunchy when simply sliced, it transforms into a soft and yielding paste, ready to soak in all the aromatic seasonings you can throw at it.

We Got The Funk

Nam Prik Gapi (or Kapi) made with the classic shrimp composition can be a bit polarizing. Some say its an acquired taste, like stinky tofu or other similarly pungent fermented foods. For the vegan version, fermented Chinese bean curd (furu) brings the funk in a mild-mannered way, more tangy than twisted. Doenjang and miso paste work together to add an earthy, salty depth, amplifying the umami throughout.

After hounding him for a few weeks, Phil graciously shared his recipe, possibly to get me off his case. Of this creation, he says, “This has recently become a favorite dish of mine. Ironic since I never would have tried it in the first place as the idea of a shrimp paste has no appeal to me. Since I have no memories of the taste of shrimp, I have no idea if this has any imitation characteristics. Nonetheless, the flavor of this dip is exceptional in and of itself. However, when I am on the other side of the planet in a stunningly beautiful vegan restaurant and my new friend picks that dish out of the menu, I am happy to try. A true umami bomb! Never thought about eating raw eggplant before but this recipe changes that attitude, completely. Dips like this are very common in Thailand, served as appetizers with raw, crunchy, fresh vegetables. I find fried tempeh to be the ideal texture and flavor to dip into this.”

As I finished off the last scoop of that addictive dip, the flavors of hot chilies, fermented bean curd, tangy lime, and earthy eggplant lingered on my tongue. It’s a marvel what can happen when you let fresh ingredients be your muse and simply trust in the process.

Continue reading “Can I Prik Your Brain?” →

Hannah (BitterSweet)8 Comments

Fit To Be Thai’d

Mention a love for Thai food and most people envision fragrant curries, blistered stir-fried noodles, and chilies so hot they could make you cry. That’s not wrong, but there’s so much more to the cuisine that’s often omitted from overseas menus. Thai desserts are a lesser known facet of the culture that more Americans should be acquainted with.

What Makes Thai Desserts Special?

In Thailand, dessert is not just an afterthought; it’s a grand finale, a crescendo of flavors that often incorporates ingredients like coconut, sticky rice, palm sugar, and exotic fruits to balance out the five tastes of sweet, sour, bitter, salty, and umami. What’s more, many of these treats are traditionally (or “accidentally”) vegan.

Khao Niew Mamuang, AKA Mango Sticky Rice (ข้าวเหนียวมะม่วง)

By far the most recognizable option worldwide, mango sticky rice has a reputation that precedes itself. Regarded as a seasonal treat by those using only the ripest, juiciest mangoes of summer, it embodies the tropical essence of Thailand itself. Creamy coconut milk marries fresh mango slices with tender sticky rice, often served warm. Understated yet spectacular, it’s an ideal complement to any meal, and easy to whip up without any fuss.

Many other variations on the concept exist, like fresh or fried bananas with sticky rice, fresh jackfruit with sticky rice, sweetened black beans with sticky rice, and more.

Khanom Chan (ขนมชั้น)

There’s no mistaking these multicolored, layered sweets, which are one of the most ancient and prestigious of Thai desserts. Dating back to the Sukhothai Kingdom (1238-1438 CE) they were reserved for the most auspicious ceremonies and celebrations. Traditionally, they are made with layers of coconut milk, rice flour, and natural food coloring derived from pandan leaves or butterfly pea tea flower petals. Visually stunning, these bite-sized wonders come in a kaleidoscope of hues, each layer telling a story of taste, color, and history.

Tub Tim Grob (ทับทิมกรอบ)

Often found in the bustling markets of Bangkok, with vibrant colors that give it the nickname of “red rubies” or “pomegranate seeds,” though neither play any role in the actual components. Cubed water chestnuts are coated in tapioca flour and soaked in grenadine or beet juice, infusing them with color and flavor while maintaining a crisp, crunchy texture inside. Floating in a sea of stark-white coconut milk, which is sometimes flavored with a touch of pandan, it’s best described as a refreshing dessert soup.

It’s not hard to replace eggs and adapt many other traditional Thai desserts to follow suit, but there’s something to be said for the instant gratification of getting a treat that’s ready to eat. When ordering at a restaurant, be wary of the possible inclusion of sweetened condensed milk used in concert with coconut milk for added sweetness; though not part of the original formula, it’s become a popular shortcut using modern conveniences. Always ask when in doubt.

In life in general, but especially when enjoying Thai food, don’t forget to save room for dessert. Thai desserts aren’t just sugary treats; they’re the period at the end of a sentence, necessary for properly completing a full thought, or proper meal. Largely gluten-free, no-bake, and inexpensive, they’re accessible treats that everyone can appreciate.

Hannah (BitterSweet)5 Comments

Unholy

Fresh herbs wait for no one, which is a pressing issue when you’re prone to over-purchasing. Some can be preserved beautifully through drying or freezing, but others perish through the process. There’s a reason why dried basil and dill taste nothing like their original glory, aromatic and herbaceous, reduced down to straw-like hay at best. That’s why a treasure like Thai basil must be cherished immediately, given the opportunity.

What is Thai holy basil?

Distinct from Italian basil, Thai holy basil is more pungent and peppery, sharp and bright, unlike anything else on the market. Despite the misleading name, it’s in fact an entirely different plant, with no relation to other types of common basil. While you could substitute one for the other, you might as well use cilantro instead, since the taste would end up being equally disparate.

What’s the best way to use Thai basil?

Pad Krapao, AKA basil stir fry, is an ideal way to clean the excess fresh herb out of your fridge. It takes almost no prep, comes together in 10 minutes or less, and has an invigorating if not downright addictive flavor. The most common variety you’ll find is Pad Krapao Gai, made with ground chicken, but the beauty of this concept is its versatility. American restaurants tend to favor whole cuts, but you could easily use any protein you prefer.

What are some ideal protein substitutions?

Naturally, my chicken is plant-based. If you’re craving something lighter, heartier, or simply different, you have plenty of choices:

Want to veg out?

I like to keep this prep fast and streamlined, focusing on just one featured vegetable for the sake of simplicity. Go ahead and add a full rainbow to bulk up the meal, especially if you have a frozen stir fry vegetable blend you can effortlessly toss right in. My favorite vegetable additions or substitutions include:

  • Bell pepper strips
  • Snow seas or snap peas
  • Shredded carrots
  • Bamboo shoots
  • Baby corn
  • Sliced zucchini

If you should be so lucky to have access to fresh Thai holy basil, don’t let a single leaf go to waste. There will be no such thing as “too much” when you have this easy, crowd-pleasing recipe in your repertoire.

Continue reading “Unholy” →

Hannah (BitterSweet)9 Comments