Bangkok Glutton

Out of all the cuisines that my family likes to eat, Isaan food is probably the most popular. It is definitely the food of choice for my husband — so much so, that whenever we get back home from abroad (a distant memory for now), he is on the phone ordering delivery from Polo Fried Chicken (usual order: one whole fried chicken, extra garlic; one som tum Thai; one bamboo shoot salad; one pork liver salad; lots of sticky rice).

But if we are really lucky, our housekeeper Somporn will be around to cook for us. While Polo Fried Chicken (aka Jae Gi) is good, Somporn’s food is really excellent. I used to think that one day if I ever moved to New Zealand I would take Somporn with me and open New Zealand’s best Isaan restaurant. Alas, we are no longer doing that and I will have to find new dreams amidst the rubble of my old ones, but at least I can still occasionally enjoy Somporn’s cooking at home.

Luckily, my in-progress cookbook gives me plenty of excuses to plumb her brain for more recipes. This one is for larb, but the Isaan kind. And I have to say (like with almost every other recipe in my book), I learned something new about Isaan larb while working on this recipe. Yes, it has roasted rice kernels and mint in it, and obviously, plenty of chilies, but I also learned that the little flourish of lime is a Bangkok thing and not part of the Isaan salad flavor profile. Instead, larb is supposed to be salty and spicy, and when Somporn cooks it for herself, she doesn’t add lime.

That’s not to say Somporn isn’t above adding some flourishes of her own. She is partial to kaffir lime leaves, so you’ll find plenty of that in the salad. I have to say, both Lauren and I have made this larb, and the lime leaf really makes it sing.

Here’s the recipe.

Ingredients

• 250 g minced chicken
• 3 Tbsps water
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 Tbsp fish sauce
• 1-2 Tbsps dried chili powder
• 1-2 Tbsps roasted rice powder
• 3 fresh cilantro leaves and stems, chopped
• 3 small shallots, sliced thinly (you can use red onion instead if you like)
• 3 sawtooth coriander leaves (if you have them), chopped
• 3-4 kaffir lime leaves (if you have them), sliced thinly
• juice of 1 lime to squeeze at the end (optional)

Method

1. Heat saucepan until a drop of water sizzles on it, then add 3 Tbsps water. Add minced chicken immediately after. After juices come out of the meat, the bits of chicken will stop sticking to the pan. Cook through until the pink is all gone. 
2. Transfer chicken (and pan juices) to a mixing bowl and add your shallots and herbs — the cilantro, sawtooth coriander and kaffir lime leaves. Add the ground rice powder and mix everything together well with a spoon. 
3. Add salt and fish sauce. Taste for seasoning.
4. Add chili powder. Taste for seasoning.
5. If you wish, add your lime juice, mix well and taste.
6. Garnish with mint leaves and enjoy with sticky rice, young savoy cabbage leaves, fresh cucumber, and some cut up long beans!

Back when it was safe to wander around town, maybe a month ago, I was in the Pratu Pii (Ghost Gate) area, taking my daughter, sister and son on a little walking tour around the Old Town. We had had a lovely kai kata (egg in a pan) breakfast at the second branch of the beloved cafe Kopi Hya Tai Gi and had just half-heartedly wandered around the entrance to the Golden Mount without walking up (note: you should walk up if you haven’t before, it’s a beautiful view at the top). It was very, very hot, which is why we were in a hurry to get away to our next spot, slurping up cold drinks on Dinsor Road.

But to get there, we had to double-back to Mahachai Road from the Golden Mount exit. Right at the exit was an aharn tham sung (made to order) stall set up with a few tables, all packed with customers (those were the days). So color me confused when I saw my son, in his all-navy get-up, leaning over a table and talking to a tableful of ladies of a certain age. Convinced he was flirting (again), I slapped him on the butt as I passed.

So I was surprised to see my son up ahead of me on the road, walking with his aunt. I had not tapped my son on the butt as I passed. I had slapped the ass of a stranger, dressed in all navy, with the same short haircut and slim build. I presume they were a waiter, taking an order. However, I did not linger to check. I did as all people of strong moral fiber do and ran far, far away.

Here I am today, saying “I’m sorry” to the poor waiter. Mea culpa. Honestly they looked very much alike from the back. But still, my mistake. My sincere apologies.

Of course, it’s not the first time I’ve made a mistake. Years ago, I posted a recipe for “Northern Thai-style beef larb” that was actually an Isaan recipe, replete with toasted rice kernels and mint leaves. That is the Northeastern larb, which, while delicious and certainly very popular, is not the larb muang or larb that you get in the North. That is larb kua, and it is a more complicated dish with complex, heavy flavors, not for the faint of heart. The meat is mixed with blood to lend it a dark mahogany color and the spices — a mix of cinnamon, star anise and Northern Thai peppercorns called makwaen — recall something out of Western China.

So to make up for this, and in the spirit of making amends to the hapless waiter next to the Golden Mount, I am posting our recipe for larb kua, the one that will appear in our upcoming book (yes that’s still happening). I sincerely hope you enjoy!

Larb Kua (Northern Thai-style larb) (for 4-6)

— 2 kg pork or beef, minced

— 10 dried chilies, chopped

— 3 red shallots

— 2 lemongrass bulbs

— 10 garlic cloves

— 1 tsp coriander seeds

— 1 tsp fennel seeds

— 2 bay leaves

— 2 star anise 

— 1/2 stick cinnamon

— 4 cardamom pods

— 1 tsp makwaen (a type of Northern Thai peppercorn)

— 10 slices galangal, peeled

— 1/2 tsp shrimp paste

— 2 Tbsp cleaned and boiled pig intestine (if using pork) or beef tripe (if using beef)

— 100 g pork liver (if using pork) or calf liver (if using beef)

— 1-2 Tbsp vegetable oil

— 1-2 tsp fish sauce

— 1-2 Tbsp pork blood (if using pork, optional)

Garnish: chopped mint and cilantro leaves, whole sprigs of mint

Lettuce leaves, savoy cabbage leaves, sliced cucumbers

Dry roast spices (coriander seeds, fennel seeds, bay leaves, star anise, cinnamon, cardamom pods and peppercorns) in wok.

Roast garlic, shallots, chilies, shrimp paste, galangal and lemongrass and pound in mortar and pestle into a paste. Set aside.

Add roasted spice mixture to mortar and pound into a paste. Set aside.

Further mince pork or beef on chopping block with butcher’s knife. If using pork blood, sprinkle 1-2 Tbsps of the blood onto the pork as your are mincing it, adding to the deep red color of the meat. This helps to develop both the flavor and the color of the pork.

Add spices and paste to wok and mix over medium heat. Add 1 Tbsp vegetable oil and meat and mix everything together, cooking until meat is brown. Add 1 Tbsp water to wok midway through cooking.

Add liver and intestines or tripe to the wok. Add more oil if needed. Add fish sauce to taste. If too dry (the juices should collect at the bottom of the wok like the dressing for a very juicy salad), add more water. The flavor should be salty, spicy and intense.

When the taste is to your satisfaction, add fresh chopped mint and cilantro leaves and mix. Serve at room temperature with sticky rice and fresh lettuce, cabbage and cucumbers.

One of the great things about Thai street food is the constant reinvention that occurs, naturally, as vendors try to stand out in a crowded field. This is what happened with Yai Krieng, a Sukhothai noodle vendor who hit upon the idea of khao perb, a type of pork broth-based dumpling that can’t be found anywhere outside of the region. The dumplings are made in a style reminiscent of khao kriab pak mor, a type of rice dumpling made by steaming the batter over a pot of water with cheesecloth stretched over it. The filling inside is fresh cabbage and aromatic basil. To make it even more interesting, the batter is made of fermented rice, in the manner of kanom jeen. Then to finish it off, the dumpling is placed in a bowl of pork broth and crowned with a steamed egg and red pork.

The khao perb is the namesake dish here, but it’s not the dish that’s most at risk of running out if you arrive too late in the afternoon. That honor probably goes to the mee pun, crepes made, once again, out of fermented rice batter flavored with your choice of either pork broth, chilies, or original herb seasonings. My personal favorite is the pork broth. Once again, these items are steamed. Yai Krieng is big on steaming.

But while mee pun is popular, it’s not my total favorite dish at this noodle shop. That honor would go to guaythiew bear, made of thin rice noodles that are absolutely smothered in a tangy tamarind sauce and blanketed in a square of red pork and fried pork cracklings. Like pad Thai, it’s a bit of a take on Sukhothai noodles, what with the tamarind, fish sauce, peanuts, lime and pork. I’m not sure if the noodles in this dish are made from fermented rice, but yes, once again, they are steamed.

I’ve been to this place a few times now, but one of my favorite things about my latest trip was meeting Yai Krieng herself, and realizing that, like Jay Fai and me, Yai Krieng has her own groupie too. In fact, this woman took me on a little tour of the premises, showing me the containers with the fermenting rice batter and telling me about Yai Krieng’s whole history as a single mother of five (!) Apparently, there are now other stalls selling khao perb in Sukhothai, but none of them hold a candle to the original. Seeing how exponentially Yai Krieng’s business has grown since my first visit to this spot years ago, I am happy that she has found such success.

But hey, why take my word for it? Why not see for yourselves, in this video painstakingly put together by my friend @christao408? Catch it below: