(Photo by Andrew Hiransomboon)
A few years ago, I got a Facebook message out of the blue from an acquaintance that I didn’t know very well. I don’t get angry that often (or didn’t at the time, pre-menopause) but his message really annoyed me. I mean, not only have you reached out to me for no reason (no food involved, just aimless conversation), but you do it to say such stupid stuff.
Him: Let’s talk Thai food.
Me: OK.
Him: Those Thai soups that have all that gunk in them. Why do Thai chefs not take it out before they serve it? My personal theory is that they are lazy.
Me: I don’t agree with those Western rules for plating Asian dishes.
Him: OK, thanks for playing!
Me: Bye
I mean, seriously? Don’t bother me with your “poor-benighted-savages-who-need-a-finger-wagging-foreigner-to-tell-them-what-to-do” bullshit and then have the temerity to expect me to agree with you? Does this man not read anything I write? (of course not) Do I complain when I get a big-ass steak that the chef hasn’t cut for me into bite-sized pieces? No. Do I think the chef is maybe a little bit lazy? Possibly. I mean, why do I have to do all that labor, at the table, myself? An Asian food chef would know to pre-slice that steak. What am I paying this jackass for?
Maybe I’m still a bit annoyed at that exchange. In any case, I never talked to this man again. But I do continue to enjoy “soups with the gunk still in them” like tom yum, tom som, tom saap, basically all the toms. I enjoy them like many other Thai people do, because they know to just ignore the stuff that they don’t want to eat, while still enjoying the smells from the aromatics. We do this because we have eyes. I understand that this is a privilege.
But here’s a soup for people who get confused about what you should eat and what you should leave in the bowl. It’s called jaw pakkad, and it’s a Northern Thai staple, available at any restaurant that calls itself a “huen” anywhere in the region. It’s a soup (“jaw”) made with Chinese flowering cabbage (“pakkad”) and tua nao (fermented bean discs). Because this ingredient (I’m talking the bean discs) is so hard to find outside of Northern Thailand, I despaired of ever trying this dish out for myself. But I found some beautiful “pakkad” (also known as pak Guangdong in Thai) in Klong Toei market and couldn’t help but try.
So I subbed out the bean discs for thao jiew, or Chinese-style fermented brown bean sauce, and went to work. The result was something that I personally love: super-umami with shrimp paste and brown beans but also salty and sour from tamarind. If you like these types of flavors, I feel like you’ll love this soup. Added bonus: no gunk.
Now, if only we could find a good replacement for Chinese flowering cabbage …
Jaw Pakkad
Serves 4
Prep time: 10 minutes Cooking time: 2 hours
- 300 g pork ribs, cut into individual riblets
- Enough water to cover pork in a pot (around 3-4 cups)
- 1 small bunch of flowering Chinese cabbage (pakkad in Northern Thai or pak Guangdong in Thai), thick stems and yellow leaves removed but blossoms kept
- 2 Tablespoons thao jiew (Chinese-style fermented brown bean sauce)
- 1 Tablespoon fish sauce
- 6 Tablespoons tamarind juice (for cooking, not drinking)
- 3-4 dried chilies (for garnish)
For curry paste*:
- ½ teaspoon salt
- 4 cloves garlic, peeled
- 5 small Thai shallots (or 2 Western shallots), peeled and chopped
- 1 Tablespoon shrimp paste
First, set the pork ribs to cook in water over medium-high heat, about 1-1 ½ hours. Keep skimming impurities from the surface (foamy bits and impurities) all the while, not obsessively but fairly frequently. If the water starts to fall below the level of the ribs, add water to cover and bring back to the boil. Your ribs are done cooking (and your broth is done brothing) when the ribs can be easily pierced by a fork.
While ribs are cooking, pound your paste base, starting with the salt and garlic and adding each ingredient as you go. Once your ribs are soft, add the paste and stir to disperse. Allow to flavor the broth for a few minutes, then add your brown bean sauce (thao jiew). Stir to disperse again, and add fish sauce and tamarind juice. Taste and adjust seasoning if needed. Once you’re satisfied, add your vegetables and allow to cook, about 5-10 minutes. Remove from the heat and serve as part of a great Northern Thai meal.
* Pro tip: If you have nam prik tha dang (red eye chili dip, page x) already made, you can add that paste to the soup instead of making your own.
Bangkok Glutton 