Category Archives: Bangkok

by | 05/06/2011 · 3:19 pm

Veggie delite

Papdi chat at the India Emporium

On a recent trip to Ayutthaya to buy sausages (I know what you are thinking, that I have no life, but did I mention that these are GERMAN-STYLE sausages?), I encountered something very troubling and did something totally out of character. At the restaurant, there were many dogs, but one was tied up and two little boys were trying to force the poor dog into a tiny little cage, prodding her with sticks and occasionally giving a kick for good measure.

This is not something I want to see while I am trying to stuff my face with frankfurters and deep-fried pork knuckle, or anything else, for that matter. I tried to intervene several times, chastising the boys and looking to their freaking PARENTS for some back-up. Finally, after forcibly removing the stick from the boys and yelling at them to STOP, I asked the parents why this dog was tied up.

Apparently, the dog was “bothering customers” by being overly friendly, and so rather than letting her “bother” customers, they tied her up. Somehow, the thought that seeing this defenseless animal abused might bother their customers did not occur to anyone. Or that having their kids disciplined by some random stranger was a bad thing. This trip made me rethink a few things, namely: 1.) the “evil” of corporal punishment on obnoxious, mean-spirited kids, 2.) whether I can ever go back to that restaurant again, no matter how good the sausages are supposed to be and 3.) if I can’t stand to see animals being mistreated, what about the meat that I eat every day?

So I’ve been trying to eat less meat, and I haven’t exploded from yearning or frustration yet. What has helped: the southern Indian (read: vegetarian) stand at the food court in Pahurat’s India Emporium (561 Chakapet Rd., 02-623-9301), a magical place promising gastronomic delights of all descriptions — Thai and non-vegetarian included — but brimming (unusually, for a place like Thailand) with all matter of vegetarian dishes and flavors.

Truth is, real vegetarian (when it’s not Buddhist Lent) is hard to come by in a country where fish sauce is part of the essential flavor profile (although I did meet two Thais the other day who found fish sauce “smelly” and used light soy sauce and salt instead. What is this world coming to? Next thing you know, chilies will be too “spicy” and Tabasco will be considered living on the edge. Thailand: the Erie, Pennsylvania of the future.)

So being a vegetarian here can be a bit of a chore, especially if you want to eat on the street (which explains why a lot of people go pescatarian when they live here). And while the food court at India Emporium is hardly the sweltering, National Geographic-worthy adventure that a trek into, say, the side-streets of Yaowaraj can be, it IS in one of the most exciting neighborhoods in Bangkok — full of color, interesting smells (not ALL unpleasant) and food you won’t easily find anywhere else. A case in point:

Masala dosa

These thin crepe-like dosas are made fresh before your eyes and stuffed with masala and, if you like, cheese, before they are served with a vegetable soup, yogurt and chutney. If, say, you went crazy and started ordering everything you saw because you were so moved by the color and chaos of the surrounding neighborhood and also got lentil fritters, soaking in a red-tinged vegetable broth, and papdi chat, puffy air-filled bits of dough slathered in yogurt, coriander chutney and tamarind sauce AS WELL AS a lovely rasmalai (cottage cheese dumplings in milk with almonds) and a double order of gulab jaman (uh, too sweet here, not aromatic with cardamom like it should be), the nice young man at the counter won’t bat an eye or judge you (too much) for your Gluttony, not at all. No, he’ll be fine and you can go on living like you are completely normal. For realz.

Veggie soup

So, India Emporium food court: the place of non-judgmental face-stuffing. And, much of it is vegetarian. Also, no crappy 7-year-old sociopaths. These are all good things.

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Filed under Asia, Bangkok, food, food stalls, shopping, Thailand

by | 05/03/2011 · 11:45 am

What’s Cooking: Nam prik platu

Chili pastes, or nam prik, form one of the main pillars of a Thai meal, and of Thai cooking in general. As dip-like condiments, or krueng jim, they incorporate easily portable protein and vegetables, and are frequently the main protein source for a Thai during the day. As the base for a dish, or nam prik gaeng, they build the foundation to a curry, soup or stir-fry; they also make great de facto salad dressings and marinades. In fact, there are few savory dishes that do not incorporate some form of chili paste.

This is the condiment kind, a well-known chili dip that is the main meal for many Thai families. It is also very nutritious, using Thai mackerel (omega-3!), fresh and blanched vegetables (fiber!) and very little, if any, oil.

Nam Prik Platu (for four)

-2 pla tu, or Thai mackerel*

-4-5 red and yellow prik chee fa, chopped

-4-5 prik yuak, sliced

-10 garlic cloves

-16 halved shallots

-6 small red chilies

For fresh vegetable garnish:

-1 cucumber, peeled and sliced

-handful of savoy cabbage leaves, washed and trimmed

-2 Tbsp winged beans, cut into 1-inch sections

-3 Thai eggplants (makuea proh)

-2 Tbsp long beans, cut into 4-inch sections

For blanched vegetable garnish:

-1/2 nam thao, or green gourd, blanched, peeled and sliced

-handful of blanched morning glory (pak boong)

-handful of blanched long beans

-1 head cabbage, chopped and blanched

-1/2 head savoy cabbage, chopped and blanched

-1/2 cup chicken stock

-2 Tbsps fish sauce (plus more to taste)

-juice from 1 lime

1. Make chilies, garlic and shallots fragrant by dry-frying them (the process is called kua) in a wok or deep frying pan. Continue until the flesh begins to take on a “blackened” appearance. Take the opportunity to practice your flipping so you can show off to your friends later on and they will think you are a really great cook. (You can also kua by skewering your chilies, garlic and shallots and placing them in an oven at full whack until the flesh blisters and blackens a bit).

Your chili mixture will look like this:


2. Deflesh your fish with your fingers, taking care to catch the tiny bones in the tail section. Set aside fish flesh. It should look like this:


3. Once your chilies are fragrant, pound them in a mortar and pestle, in batches if necessary. Add fish flesh as you go along until everything is incorporated (of course, you can also whizz in the food processor, but it only serves to slice the ingredients, not crush them into oblivion. Also, why not get a great biceps workout while you’re at it?) When you are finished, the paste will look like this:


4. Add your chicken stock and 2 Tbsp fish sauce. Taste for seasoning and add more fish sauce if needed.
Your finished chili paste will look like this:


5. Just before serving, add juice of 1 lime, but if keeping for later, make sure to refrigerate (duh). Reheat and add lime juice just before serving, accompanied by fresh and blanched vegetables and rice.

*The best store-bought pla tu apparently must have a short face, crooked neck and (obviously) thick belly.

Next up: nam prik kapi, Thailand’s traditional square meal.

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Filed under Asia, Bangkok, fish, food, seafood, Thailand

by | 04/27/2011 · 12:51 pm

Why Food

The unseasonably wet weather and ensuing traffic snarls have put me into a meditative mood. So indulge me for a moment as I blather on like your 84-year-old great-aunt, the one who doesn’t see people very often and puts SWAT-team-level preparation into “going out”.

Because that is how I feel nowadays. My Thai has never been the greatest — conversations frequently turn into an unwieldy catalogue of what has NOT been said, a litany of all that has NOT been communicated. I am literally two-dimensional; beyond initial remarks on the weather, what to eat and where to go, I am cashed out of words, making do by playing the role of the dim-witted auntie, a role I am getting unnervingly good at.

This is leeching into my English language communication, which is fast becoming a halting negotiation of what to express and what to leave out. Interaction is Thailand is an unspoken deal: say the expected things at the right time and you will have passed. Saying something different means you have not kept up your part of the bargain. This is something that has taken me years to learn, but is somehow understood by Thais who have grown up here — just like everyone knows you don’t eat durian with alcohol, or without mangosteen, or that you don’t transport it on the Skytrain because then people will look at you like you just took a baby, a kitten and a puppy and forced them to listen to the Black Eyed Peas’s latest album. All Thais somehow know these things.

So food is a wonderful oasis for me. When you are cramming your piehole with stuff, you don’t have to talk. When your table is groaning under the weight of tasty food, people around you are happy. When you venture to talk about this dish or that, people are invariably willing to discuss it — food is a fine, happy place, where everyone loves you, as long as your plate is still full.

It’s logical, then, that I would love Restaurants of Bangkok, which offers a nifty monthly program they call “Running Dinners”. Every course — appetizer, main, dessert — is offered at a different restaurant in the same area. Despite the logistical difficulties of herding up to 20 increasingly inebriated people to different places every hour or so, it’s surprisingly well-run, and a great way to feature restaurants that are new or easily overlooked. (In the interests of full disclosure: next month’s dinner includes dessert at Maduzi Hotel, which belongs to my husband’s family.)

Blurry photo of dessert course at Philippe, taken after fourth glass of wine

But I’m an equal-opportunity gobbler (uh, duh). I obviously like to go the opposite end of the spectrum too. Sometimes you need to work a little for your food fix, just sayin (don’t you hate it when people write “just sayin?” Like, didn’t you already just say it? I see it more and more frequently, and it is almost always preceded by something semi-obnoxious — “BLAH BLAH STUPID STUPID MOUTHFART MOUTHFART. JUST SAYIN.” Blech. Okay, rant over.)

So the beef noodles on Sukhumvit Soi 16, across from the Korean restaurant, are also a wonderful refuge for the socially impaired. Beloved by office workers and motorcycle taxi drivers alike, it is the “we are the world” food stall of that particular road, where people can set aside their various color allegiances or complete and total political apathy (I’m lookin at me, Bangkok Glutton) and jostle each other for bowls of delicious beef water instead.

Options are rice vermicelli (sen mee) or thick noodles (sen yai), or no noodles at all (gow low). Open 7am-1pm, closed on Sundays. Call 087-564-9469.

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Filed under Asia, Bangkok, beef, dessert, food, food stalls, French food, noodles, restaurant, Thailand