I think I am going to spend a while exploring the east or more specifically South East Asia for a while and then perhaps move onto India. I was really fortunate to travel to Singapore and Thailand recently and thought I would share some of my pictures and favourite foodie moments and recipes. I adored the vibrancy on the streets of Bangkok, the colourful food markets were a visual treat, and the fresh zingy tastes a true delight, and have really made me love Asian food. So here is the journey of Tom Kha Gai
Do you have a favourite dish that you try at every restaurant? I do: it’s called Tom Kha Gai. It’s not as well known as its cousin Tom Yum – the famous hot & sour Thai soup. In contrast to Tom Yum, it is milder, creamier, and richer. In Tom Yum, the citrus flavours of lemon-grass and lime leaves take the lead, but Tom Kha's earthy flavour comes from Kha or galangal. It is quite simply, dreamy; an exotic ambrosia of coconut milk, lemon-grass, galangal, Thai lime leaves and silky chicken. I am determined to try the dish at each place we visit, starting right here on the banks of the Chao Phrya River in Surat Thani – a tiny fishing village on the west coast of Thailand. To set the scene… We are seated at a very rustic wooden decking affair bordering a wide, muddy, fast-flowing river… Grubby plastic garden furniture, melamine dishes, mucky forks and spoons (they don’t use knives), and a rather grubby looking kitchen in plain view, and fresh fish plopping out of bamboo baskets in anticipation of ending up as our lunch. We’re at one of the best local restaurants and Linda, my experienced travelling companion, tries her best to pick dishes from a menu written in Thai – it might as well be from outer space it’s so alien – with a few very blurry pictures to help. Clearly not many tourists visit here.
Dishes start arriving in a flurry; the kitchen and restaurant staff hovers around our table to see these obviously strange “farang” (the Thai word for foreigner). As soon as the food lands on the table the flies begin their assault. I try my best to remain calm, as it would be rude to offend our hosts. I drink some deliciously refreshing coconut juice straight from the coconut which also helps relieve the burn from spicy dishes. I try some fried chicken with cashew nuts – it is delicious, the fresh lobster dipped in spicy chilli is mouthwatering… only the flies now have us under full siege. I begin waving my spare arm frantically. There is no order here, it is all quite random: soup arrives halfway through the meal, and it is my favourite - Tom Kha Gai! I slurp it down, the unique, earthy flavour of galangal is pungent but balanced by the heady scent and flavour of lemon-grass and the chilli level is just perfect. Next, some raw vegetables are deposited on the table – things I am unfamiliar with like morning glory and Thai celery, but which are refreshing dipped in chilli and vinegar. Marinated chilli fish – baked whole, quite a weird curry paste cake, which is fiery hot, and the quite delicious spicy green papaya salad. If you’ve never experienced this dish, it is a revelation in flavour and texture. Thin crispy strips of green papaya tossed with spicy chilli, hints of peanut, and the famous pungent fish sauce (though too much can ruin the dish) and chopped fresh coriander. – Think I will post a recipe for this soon.
Dishes start arriving in a flurry; the kitchen and restaurant staff hovers around our table to see these obviously strange “farang” (the Thai word for foreigner). As soon as the food lands on the table the flies begin their assault. I try my best to remain calm, as it would be rude to offend our hosts. I drink some deliciously refreshing coconut juice straight from the coconut which also helps relieve the burn from spicy dishes. I try some fried chicken with cashew nuts – it is delicious, the fresh lobster dipped in spicy chilli is mouthwatering… only the flies now have us under full siege. I begin waving my spare arm frantically. There is no order here, it is all quite random: soup arrives halfway through the meal, and it is my favourite - Tom Kha Gai! I slurp it down, the unique, earthy flavour of galangal is pungent but balanced by the heady scent and flavour of lemon-grass and the chilli level is just perfect. Next, some raw vegetables are deposited on the table – things I am unfamiliar with like morning glory and Thai celery, but which are refreshing dipped in chilli and vinegar. Marinated chilli fish – baked whole, quite a weird curry paste cake, which is fiery hot, and the quite delicious spicy green papaya salad. If you’ve never experienced this dish, it is a revelation in flavour and texture. Thin crispy strips of green papaya tossed with spicy chilli, hints of peanut, and the famous pungent fish sauce (though too much can ruin the dish) and chopped fresh coriander. – Think I will post a recipe for this soon.
But, I digress, as my mission is to compare notes on Tom Kha Gai. Tom Kha literally means, “Boiled galangal” and Gai, translates as “chicken”. You can also make Tom Kha Goong (prawns) or a vegetarian option, Tom Kha Hed with mushrooms. I soon discovered that even though the ingredients are pretty much the same wherever you go, there is always a subtle or even a distinct difference, yet the essence remains the same.
Tonight we are at a far more westernized restaurant, this time in the pulsating city of Bangkok, but, oddly enough, still on the banks of the same river. In the central region of Thailand, the Chao Phraya River is regarded as the bloodline of the Thai people and even today, the river remains the most important waterway in central Thailand. This is evident from the steady flow of little tugboats hauling huge loads of sand, cement and other building supplies up and down the river. Chao Phraya never sleeps as it carries with it the culture and history of Thailand. The hygiene standards tonight are a definite improvement, but there is a very bad karaoke rendition blaring in the background. The fare is similar, and many different dishes are brought to the table, but this time the Tom Kha Gai is brought in a brazier and kept warm by a small candle burning underneath and we are free to dish our own. This one has a little chilli oil floating on top and is more fiery than our first one, but we all dig in for seconds and we especially enjoy the addition of shitake mushrooms. The lemon-grass and lime leaf in this version is strong and aromatic and it seems to be a little creamier than the first. We also have crispy prawn spring rolls with a sweet chilli dipping sauce… Yum!
Today we are being hosted by one of our suppliers and are taken to one of his favourite restaurants. We start the meal with the customary coconut juice. He takes the liberty of ordering for us so we are not sure what to expect. The décor is not glam – plastic pink tablecloths, the ambience of a large food hall, and the standard plastic plate with spoon and fork – but we do have our own waiter. We all smile politely as an array of colourful dishes starts to arrive. We are told it would be considered very impolite not to taste everything. So here goes: A delicious omelette with fresh greens, a plate of Asian greens which is crunchy and perfectly seasoned with oyster sauce, a plate of fish cakes (a little spongy for my liking but nicely seasoned with fresh coriander) and then, horror of horrors, a fresh oyster omelette. The oysters look like beady little eyes, slimy and piled onto a bed of egg and bean sprouts. Linda takes spoonfuls, I take a polite spoonful, push the oyster around my plate tentatively – can you tell I don’t like them? – and then pile on a few things I am loving. While Steven’s eyes pop out from a mouthful of chilli, I surreptitiously slip the oyster into a serviette. And then right on time the soup arrives. Creamy with large slices of galangal and the cutest little mushrooms you ever saw. There are whole dried red chillies floating in this one and generous slices of lemon-grass, a lime leaf or two, and a refreshing fresh tang of lime juice. Perfection. This is the one I am going to try and replicate when I get back home. We finish off with juicy pomelo – similar to a giant grapefruit but sweeter and dipped in chilli sugar.
Tonight we are at a far more westernized restaurant, this time in the pulsating city of Bangkok, but, oddly enough, still on the banks of the same river. In the central region of Thailand, the Chao Phraya River is regarded as the bloodline of the Thai people and even today, the river remains the most important waterway in central Thailand. This is evident from the steady flow of little tugboats hauling huge loads of sand, cement and other building supplies up and down the river. Chao Phraya never sleeps as it carries with it the culture and history of Thailand. The hygiene standards tonight are a definite improvement, but there is a very bad karaoke rendition blaring in the background. The fare is similar, and many different dishes are brought to the table, but this time the Tom Kha Gai is brought in a brazier and kept warm by a small candle burning underneath and we are free to dish our own. This one has a little chilli oil floating on top and is more fiery than our first one, but we all dig in for seconds and we especially enjoy the addition of shitake mushrooms. The lemon-grass and lime leaf in this version is strong and aromatic and it seems to be a little creamier than the first. We also have crispy prawn spring rolls with a sweet chilli dipping sauce… Yum!
Today we are being hosted by one of our suppliers and are taken to one of his favourite restaurants. We start the meal with the customary coconut juice. He takes the liberty of ordering for us so we are not sure what to expect. The décor is not glam – plastic pink tablecloths, the ambience of a large food hall, and the standard plastic plate with spoon and fork – but we do have our own waiter. We all smile politely as an array of colourful dishes starts to arrive. We are told it would be considered very impolite not to taste everything. So here goes: A delicious omelette with fresh greens, a plate of Asian greens which is crunchy and perfectly seasoned with oyster sauce, a plate of fish cakes (a little spongy for my liking but nicely seasoned with fresh coriander) and then, horror of horrors, a fresh oyster omelette. The oysters look like beady little eyes, slimy and piled onto a bed of egg and bean sprouts. Linda takes spoonfuls, I take a polite spoonful, push the oyster around my plate tentatively – can you tell I don’t like them? – and then pile on a few things I am loving. While Steven’s eyes pop out from a mouthful of chilli, I surreptitiously slip the oyster into a serviette. And then right on time the soup arrives. Creamy with large slices of galangal and the cutest little mushrooms you ever saw. There are whole dried red chillies floating in this one and generous slices of lemon-grass, a lime leaf or two, and a refreshing fresh tang of lime juice. Perfection. This is the one I am going to try and replicate when I get back home. We finish off with juicy pomelo – similar to a giant grapefruit but sweeter and dipped in chilli sugar.
How to make your own –
As I learnt from my travels, there is no one correct way to make this dish. Play with the ingredients each time to develop your own unique and personalized recipe that you can show off to guests with. It’s dead easy – I promise.
You will need:
• 250ml Chicken stock
• 250ml Coconut milk
• ½ stalk Fresh lemon-grass sliced into 3cm lengths. Only use the bottom part, not the green leafy bits, and then use the back of a knife to bruise the lemon-grass – you might need to bash quite hard so watch your fingers!
• Fresh Galangal 6 slices (ginger is not an ideal substitute but is the only one I would recommend)
• 2 Thai lime leaves left whole
• Dried red chillies left whole (depending how brave you are use between one and four. Maybe make your first batch with one so you can get a feel for the heat level)
• 15ml Fish sauce
• 30ml Fresh lime juice
• 5ml Palm sugar
• A handful fresh coriander
• 4 Chicken breasts sliced thinly across the breast
• A handful of straw mushrooms (or regular button mushrooms) sliced
Place the stock into a medium sized pot and bring to the boil. Toss in the bruised lemon-grass, galangal, palm sugar and lime leaves and then allow to simmer for 5 minutes.
Now add the coconut milk, whole dried chillies and fish sauce (too much fish sauce can ruin any dish so if you are nervous, start with half the amount – you can adjust the seasoning at the end) and then bring back to a simmer.
Lastly, slide the chicken into the hot liquid taking care not to plop the chicken in or you will scald yourself. Add the mushrooms now too. As soon as the chicken turns white it is 90% done, simmer 3 minutes and then take out a slice to check. You don’t want the chicken to boil; it must be silky and just cooked through.
Turn off the heat and add a squeeze of fresh lime juice. The reason for adding this at the end is to get a fresh tangy bursting-on-the-tongue effect. If you cook lime juice it becomes too mellow.
Now you can test for seasoning.
There should be a noticeable saltiness from the fish sauce (not fishiness), sweetness from the coconut milk and palm sugar, and nice bit of sourness from the lime with a hint of chilli. You should definitely notice the citrus notes from the lemon-grass and lime leaves and lastly the earthy galangal.
Serve to your guests garnished with a little fresh coriander in each bowl. Ensure you dish up all the lemon-grass and galangal as well. It is acceptable to slurp but you are not expected to chew on the slices of galangal and lemon-grass.
TOP TIPS
This soup is very decadent when served with prawns rather than chicken, just remember prawns will only take a minute to cook so add them right at the end and simmer for only a minute. They will become tough and leathery if you overcook them.
If the budget is tight, make a combination of chicken, firm white fish and just a few prawns.
For vegetarians use a combination of mushrooms and a few baby tomatoes (don’t forget to substitute vegetable stock for chicken stock).
If you prefer a richer soup, substitute the coconut milk with coconut cream – this makes such a heart-warming winter lunch.
The strength of lemon-grass and lime juice varies, so use your nose and your tongue to judge. When in doubt, use more lemon-grass but less lime juice. Then adjust gradually.
If you cannot get fresh limes, substitute with lime juice (check the usage instructions as sometimes they are quite concentrated). Or use lemon juice instead, and use more of it than prescribed here.
Most importantly, don’t be afraid to experiment. Enjoy!
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