Category Archives: Bangkok

Hamburger heaven

The Thaiger burger with bacon

The Thaiger burger with bacon

When I just moved to Bangkok, a guy called me up. I was still new to the whys and hows of life here and was still bewildered by things like who wais who if you look the same age. So this guy called me up, and after what seemed like hours of talking about his hair, when he casually said I should “come over to his house and make him a sandwich”, I thought WOW GUYS IN BANGKOK DON’T MESS AROUND.

It turns out this fool probably really did want me to come over to his house and smoosh two slices of Wonder bread around a piece of baloney. Because since then I’ve learned that there is this weird thing about guys and their sandwiches. Let me put it another way: What is it about guys and sandwiches? I don’t get it. It’s not like it’s hard to do. Any idiot with two hands should be able to figure it out. Yet the fetishization of sandwiches not only lingers, but has grown, to zit-on-picture-day-like proportions. Case in point: the lady who was challenged by her boyfriend to make him 300 sandwiches before he proposed. You know what I’m talking about. Just in case you don’t, you can check out this link here: http://300sandwiches.com. Smart. So smart. This woman will get a cookbook deal and will be played by someone like Amy Adams in the upcoming movie. And all because her boyfriend is a doofus who can’t make his own sandwiches.

So I don’t get sandwiches in general, but I do understand hamburgers. This is a big thing for me. I can maybe say that, besides Buffalo wings, this is possibly THE thing. It’s because I live in Bangkok, where correctly-rendered versions of either of these dishes are about as rare as a talking unicorn made of ice cream. Too often, “Buffalo” wings mean deep-fried chicken wings slathered in a honey-barbecue sauce. Once, I ordered Buffalo wings at a hamburger place (these two dishes often go together under the rubric of “American shit no one else will eat”), only to be presented with a dry tangle of limbs that resembled an evil vulture’s nest. They told me the Buffalo wings were “spicy Thai wings”. WHY DON’T YOU CALL THEM SPICY THAI WINGS?

Hamburgers are similarly mistreated here. I think it is because Thais — and possibly Asians in general — misunderstand what the point of a hamburger is. A hamburger is about the meat — the beef, to be specific. It’s about having a great big slab of beef, fully grained, charred and juicy, subtly mitigated by a fluffy bun and maybe some crunchy green crap on top. A hamburger is supposed to taste like MEAT. But Thais, possibly because there aren’t as many beef eaters as in other countries, don’t really believe this. They want a patty that has everything but the kitchen sink in it — onions, garlic, carrots, whatever — in a round of something that has been minced and pounded until it resembles a fine meat frisbee. It’s the Mosburger approach to hamburgers, and it is ruining all the burgers in this town. I don’t care how many Japanese people you get to eat it.

It comes as no surprise, then, that Daniel Thaiger draws a line of hungry hamburger-lovers even before they open at around 6pm. Recent LA transplants Mark and Honey run their hamburger business out of a white food truck parked at the far end of Sukhumvit Soi 38, on the right side of the road on even-numbered days, and on the left side on odd. Like all good street food, the menu is simple and straight to the point: burgers, tasting of meat and smoke fresh from the grill, with bacon and/or cheese, wrapped in a soft bun and a wax paper sleeve that doesn’t quite keep you from looking like a big slob as you’re eating. And yes, there are pork versions too. But come quickly, because these folks often sell out by 8.30pm.

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

What’s Cooking: Yum

A "three-way" yum of shrimp, pork and dried fish at Polo

A “three-way” yum of shrimp, pork and dried fish at Polo

I’ve been away, so I haven’t had as much Thai food as I’d like. Although the world is full of what I’m sure are great Thai restaurants that venture beyond the sour-sweet stir-fries and chicken with cashew nuts that we all know and will perversely miss some day, I have a general rule about not eating Thai food when I’m out of the country. It is usually — not always, but a lot of the time — a pale shadow of what I’d get at home. Since I live at home, why don’t I just get it there?

But I find that the thing I miss most when I’m away is the spicy-sour-sweet melange of what-have-you called, fittingly, “yum”. It’s room temperature and chopped, perfectly made to eat in greedy mouthfuls with a spoon — the bigger, the better, hopefully alone so that you don’t have to share. It’s made up of things that might not tantalize on their own, like tiny dried fish or julienned banana blossoms or blanched Chinese kale stems or even chopped lemongrass bulbs. Its variations are infinite, but the overall effect of the dish is the same: a bit of spice, a lot of tart, some fish sauce, some sugar. Some heft in the form of a smoky grilled eggplant, or lightly cooked shrimp. Something light and refreshing, like lettuce. And always some texture, some crunch. It’s the very definition of something that is better than the sum of its parts.

The sky is the limit when it comes to thinking up yum salads of your own, so it’s probably not surprising that many families have their own favorite yum recipes. My husband’s family is no different. When they get together, you can be sure to find a big vat of beef green curry (gaeng kiew waan nuea), some fermented rice noodles (kanom keen), a bit of roti, and, in a nod to the Japanophile tendencies of modern-day Bangkok, some pickled ginger. Also on the table is a big brimming bowl of yum soon sen, a “salad” of glass vermicelli that is a far cry from the anemic glass vermicelli salads I have had anywhere else. With its mix of palm sugar and coconut milk and tamarind juice, this salad recalls more of the luxurious sweetness of a good mee Siam you’d find on the southern Thai border, and less of the cartoonish “hot ‘n spicy” of a package of Mama tom yum noodles. It’s sort of like eating garlic bread for the first time again.

Obviously, I lack the self-discipline to stop and take a photo of this dish, so you will have to be content with a photo from Karen, taken at the beginning of a family banquet when everyone was being too polite to be the first to tuck in:

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Yum woon sen in the earthenware bowl in the middle, surrounded by everything else anyone could think of on that day

 (Photo by Karen Blumberg)

I have to admit, I had a bit of trouble securing this recipe from my husband’s aunt. These things aren’t easy to come by. So if there’s something that might be missing, or some cooking step that someone may have forgotten to mention, well … don’t look at me. I’m just the messenger.

Yum Woon Sen

Ingredients:

–       500 g woon sen (glass vermicelli)

–       1 kg shrimp, cleaned

–       shredded kaffir lime leaves (for garnish)

–       1 L coconut milk

–       1 kg shallots

–       25 g dried chilies

–       150 g tamarind juice

–       5 Tbs fish sauce

–       150 g palm sugar

–       unscented cooking oil (for stir-frying)

 

To make:

 

  1. Soak glass vermicelli in water for half an hour.
  2. Mince and then stir-fry shrimp until pink, let rest.
  3. Slice and fry shallots until opaque.
  4. Split coconut milk into two portions, the add palm sugar, fish sauce, and tamarind juice (juice only). Mix, and heat until boiling, stirring occasionally. Set aside.
  5. With the remaining coconut milk, “stir-fry” glass vermicelli that has been drained. Add other coconut milk. Add shallots, leaving some for garnish. Add chilies, sliced roughly. Stir-fry until dry. Scatter julienned kaffir lime leaves and remaining shallots over the top as garnish.

 

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Filed under Asia, Bangkok, food, noodles, Thailand

What’s Cooking: Elvis Suki

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Scallops ready for the grill

(Photo by @karenblumberg)

Elvis Suki (Soi Yotse, Plabplachai Rd., 02-223-4979, open 17.00-23.00 daily) is one of my favorite places to take visitors from out of town. Its specialty — the Thai-style sukiyaki after which it is named — is an unglamorous but delicious goop of glass vermicelli, a blank canvas on which a yin-and-yang-likedrama is played out nightly: blanched seafood or meat versus the vibrant thrashings of a spicy-sweet-tart chili sauce, like the Meg underpinning a buoyant Jack.  That said, it’s still the Cleveland of street food dishes, solid but unlamented, probably a nice place to live but unlikely to haunt your dreams.

Their scallops, however, are another story. Other people make scallops like these: an unlikely pairing of scallops and a dab of pork, minced or otherwise, both doused liberally in a sweet, garlicky butter. Yet somehow no one can hold a candle to Elvis Suki’s version.  Maybe it’s the atmosphere? (no-nonsense open-air shophouse or, if you are fast enough, no-frills air-conditioned room?) Maybe it’s the people? (A mix of families and office workers). Or maybe it’s the service? (Probably not). In any case, few diners leave Elvis Suki without those scallops.

 

Elvis Suki’s grilled scallops with pork (makes 4)

What you’ll need:

–       4 large scallops

–       1 slice (about 60 g) pork neck

–       2 Tbs butter

–       2 large cloves garlic, finely minced

–       Salt and pepper (to taste)

–       Sugar

To make:

  1. Make garlic butter by mixing garlic with softened butter
  2. “Dry brine” pork by coating in salt for 15 minutes. Before using, pat dry.
  3. Clean scallops and place 1-inch-long piece of pork alongside scallop on the shell. Season both with salt and pepper.
  4. Dot with dollops of garlic butter and sprinkle both scallops and pork with ¼tsp of sugar.
  5. Grill or broil in oven for about 5 minutes, keeping a close eye so that the scallops do not burn.
  6. Take out and serve while hot.
The grilled scallops at Elvis Suki

The grilled scallops at Elvis Suki

 

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