HEADING UP THE RIVER
Heading up the Kaladan River from Sittwe, in the first hour after dawn.
SOON AFTER I LANDED at the tiny airport in Sittwe, on Burma’s west coast, I was accosted by a tout, a rare experience in Burma. He presented himself as the person I needed to guide me while I was in the area: he’d get me a boat for Mrauk U, he’d show me where to eat, he’d show me around. “No thanks,” I said, but he persisted like a drunk in a bar. I dodged him and caught a motorcycle rickshaw into town.
Sittwe was sleepy and felt vaguely colonial. There were fruit bats near the clock tower, a couple of small hotels and guesthouses, a few shops, and a fish market by the river. At my guesthouse, the friendly, laid-back owner advised me to head straight up the Kaladan River to Mrauk U the next morning: “You’ll take a lot of days to visit the ruins and you can always come down a day ahead if you want to spend more time here in Sittwe,” he explained. I talked to a quiet friend of his who said he’d arrange for a boat at the river that would take me to Mrauk U, a seven-hour journey. He said I could leave before dawn. And no, he wouldn’t be coming with me, he would just make the arrangements.
It was still dark when I left the guesthouse next morning for the jetty. The sky was lightening as I walked there: people and objects started to take shape, and the river water gleamed in the early light. The quiet man was waiting at the river. He showed me the boat, said, “You pay the boatman,” gave me a little wave, and then walked away.
The boatman started the engine. The kid helping him loosened the mooring rope, and just then the pushy guy from the airport stepped onto the boat. “I’ve been looking for you,” he said. “Thank you but no,” I said. “I’d like to be alone. Thank you!” Something in the firmness of my voice must finally have got through to him. He stepped back onto the dock and we pulled away.
As we moved slowly through the pale silver of the water, past the darkened riverbanks and the occasional small boat, all thoughts of him—all thoughts of any kind—fell away. We entered a timeless vast space of wide, wide river and endless open sky, the colors pale and gradually warming in the early light. We were dwarfed by the vastness, a small skiff chugging up a wide expanse of water toward a brilliant horizon.
MAKES ABOUT 5 CUPS; SERVES 4
This perfect fish broth has depth and nuance, everything in balance. It is great to have a stash of it in the freezer to serve as a simple broth at any time, or to use in making the central Burmese essential
Classic Sour Soup or other soups in this chapter.
I often use fish fillets for this broth. A more traditional choice is fish heads. Don’t use salmon; its flavor is too strong and distinctive.
2 tablespoons peanut oil or vegetable oil
⅛ teaspoon turmeric
¼ cup minced shallots
1 tablespoon minced garlic
About ½ pound fish fillets or pieces (see the headnote), rinsed
Scant 1 teaspoon shrimp paste (ngapi; see Glossary)
About 6 cups water
1 teaspoon salt
Heat the oil in a wide heavy pot over medium-high heat. Add the turmeric and stir, then add the shallots and garlic and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 3 minutes. Stir in the dried shrimp powder and lower the heat to medium. Add the fish and cook, stirring occasionally, until all sides have been exposed to the heat.
Dissolve the shrimp paste in about 2 tablespoons water in a small bowl, then add to the pot, together with a scant 6 cups water. Raise the heat and bring to a boil, then add the salt, lower the heat to maintain a low boil, and cook, partially covered, for 15 minutes.
Strain the broth and discard the solids.
Serve as a simple clear broth, or use to make other soups in this chapter. The broth will keep in a well-sealed container for 3 days in the refrigerator or up to 1 month in the freezer.
SERVES 4 OR 5
Dawei, until recently known as Tavoy, is an attractive town halfway down Burma’s tail-of-the-kite south coast. The fish in its markets gleam with freshness and are wonderfully varied. The women in Kana Market, Dawei’s main wet market, watched me taking photos and more photos, laughing when they saw how amazed I was by the beauty of the fish they were selling.
The fish dishes for which Dawei is famous may originally have been Mon dishes, since this stretch of the Tenasserim coast was part of a Mon kingdom long ago (see
Burma over Time). It’s also been a crossroads kind of place for centuries. Chinese merchants, Burmese from other parts of the country, and Muslim descendants of traders from across the Bay of Bengal all still do business here.
I learned about this soup from a generous woman in Dawei known for her home cooking. The basic
flavor paste features the distinctive local flavorings: along with ginger and shallots, there’s galangal, a resiny and distinctive cousin of ginger, as well as lemongrass in quantities you don’t see elsewhere in Burma.
You can serve it as a broth, or instead include bean threads and some chopped Napa cabbage for a more substantial soup. I like to pair it with
Perfumed Coconut Rice and a simple vegetable curry.
3 pounds fish heads and bones from ocean fish such as kingfish, sea bream, or snapper (not salmon), thoroughly rinsed
About 7 cups water
1 cup sliced shallots
1 teaspoon turmeric
¼ cup very thinly sliced lemongrass
3 tablespoons sliced ginger
2 tablespoons sliced galangal (see Glossary)
2 teaspoons salt, plus additional to taste
4 green cayenne chiles, or to taste
2 ounces bean threads (see Glossary; optional)
1½ cups chopped Napa cabbage (optional)
½ pound cleaned squid, chopped into bite-sized pieces (optional)
¾ cup loosely packed coriander leaves and fine stems, coarsely chopped
Juice of 1 lime, or to taste
Place the fish heads in a pot with 6 cups of the water. Add the shallots and turmeric and bring to a boil, then lower the heat to maintain a strong simmer.
Meanwhile combine the lemongrass, ginger, and galangal in a mortar or small processor, add 1 teaspoon of the salt, and pound or process to a paste.
Blend the paste into another cup of water, then add to the pot together with the remaining 1 teaspoon salt. Toss in the green chiles. Bring the broth back to the boil, partially cover, and lower the heat to maintain a strong simmer. Cook for about an hour. Remove from the heat, taste for seasoning, and adjust as necessary. Strain the broth through a fine strainer into another pot and discard the solids. Set back over the heat. You may find you want to add a little extra water.
If serving immediately: Bring to a gentle boil. Add the bean threads or Napa cabbage or both, if using, and simmer briefly. If using squid, rinse off, then add to the soup and simmer until tender. Taste and adjust the seasonings if you wish. Add most of the coriander and stir, then remove from the heat, stir in the lime juice, and serve topped with a sprinkling of the remaining coriander.
If serving later: Set the broth aside until about 10 minutes before you wish to serve it (refrigerate if the wait will be longer than 2 hours). Then bring the broth back to a gentle boil and proceed as above.
A fisherman near Mrauk U with his net.
fish soup with lemongrass and chiles
SERVES 4
A treat for the cook because of its ease of preparation, and for guests because of its sparkling flavors, this is a great soup to serve on a hot day. The broth is aromatic with lemongrass and ginger, and it gets an extra lift from the condiments and toppings that each guest adds while eating: a little heat from minced green chile, crunch and freshness from shallots and coriander leaves, and the tang of lime juice to pull it all together.
½ cup water
2 stalks lemongrass, trimmed and smashed
2 slices ginger
¼ cup thinly sliced shallots, soaked in water for 10 minutes and drained
3 green cayenne chiles, seeded and minced
¼ cup loosely packed chopped coriander
2 limes, cut into wedges
Combine the broth and water in a wide heavy pot, add the lemongrass and ginger, and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Lower the heat to maintain a medium boil, partially cover, and cook for about 15 minutes to infuse the soup wth flavor.
Meanwhile squeeze any excess water out of the sliced shallots and put out on a serving plate, together with the chiles, coriander, and lime wedges.
Just before serving, remove the lemongrass and ginger slices from the soup and discard. Serve the soup, and invite your guests to sprinkle on some shallots, chiles, and coriander leaves, as they please, and to squeeze on fresh lime juice.
hearty pork and vegetable soup
SERVES 4 OR 5
I had this warming Karen version of sour soup in a village not far from Moulmein, the port at the mouth of the Salween River. Rather than being fish-broth-based, as many sour soups are, it is made with pork and freshly cooked greens. The shrimp paste (ngapi) is very subtle and blends into the other flavors seamlessly.
Serve as a main dish over rice, perhaps with some roasted root vegetables or a crisp salad on the side. Leftovers are exceptionally good the next day.
½ pound pork shoulder or other boneless pork, such as tenderloin
¼ teaspoon turmeric
Salt
2 tablespoons peanut oil or vegetable oil
½ cup sliced shallots
1 tablespoon minced ginger
1 stalk lemongrass, trimmed and smashed (optional)
½ teaspoon fermented shrimp paste (ngapi; see Glossary)
5 cups light vegetable broth, chicken broth, or water
2 tablespoons tamarind pulp (see Glossary), cut into chunks
1 cup hot water
About 4 cups loosely packed coarsely chopped bok choi, Napa cabbage, or Taiwan bok choi, or substitute 3 cups loosely packed chopped Swiss chard or romaine lettuce
Thinly slice the pork, then cut into small (approximately 1-inch) pieces and place in a bowl. (You should have about 1 packed cup.) Add ⅛ teaspoon of the turmeric and ½ teaspoon salt and turn and mix to distribute the seasonings; set aside.
Heat the oil in a wide heavy pot over medium-high heat. Toss in the remaining ⅛ teaspoon turmeric, and when it sizzles, add the shallots, ginger, and lemongrass (if using), lower the heat to medium, and cook, stirring frequently, until the shallots are softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the sliced pork and cook, stirring frequently, until all surfaces have changed color.
Meanwhile, place the shrimp paste in a small bowl, add about ¼ cup of the broth or water, and stir to dissolve the shrimp paste completely. Add to the pot together with the remaining broth or water and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for about 10 minutes.
While the broth thickens, place the tamarind pulp in a small bowl with the hot water. Mash it with a fork to help dissolve it, then set aside for several minutes to soak.
Rub the tamarind with your fingers to help it dissolve further, then place a sieve over a wide bowl and pour the tamarind water through, pressing and mashing the pulp against the sieve to extract as much liquid as possible. Discard the pulp.
Add the tamarind liquid to the broth, bring to a boil, and add the chopped greens. Cook at a medium boil for a few minutes, until the greens are just tender. Add salt to taste (if the broth you started with was unsalted or you used water, you will need about 2 teaspoons salt).
Serve hot or at room temperature.
SERVES 4
Sour soup is an essential part of a noontime rice meal in central Burma. There’s a wide variety of these soups. They’re most often made with a fish stock as a base and, as here, lightly soured with tamarind or lime juice. Occasional sips as you eat refresh the palate.
I love the way this soup can be subtly transformed by adding different greens and vegetables. I’ve eaten sour soup with petals from pumpkin flowers floating in the broth, a beautiful variation. You could use zucchini blossoms, or even nasturtiums. In Mandalay, there’s a short time in February just before hot season when the tall kapok trees (lapin in Burmese) are in bloom, and cooks add their velvety faded-red flowers to a sour soup flavored with onions, ginger, fermented soybeans, and a touch of tomato.
2 tablespoons tamarind pulp (see Glossary), cut into chunks
1 cup hot water
About 2 loosely packed cups coarsely chopped bok choi, Taiwan bok choi, or Napa cabbage, or tender young bean sprouts, or daikon cut into 1-inch chunks, or a combination
Place the tamarind pulp in a small bowl with the hot water. Mash it with a fork to help it dissolve, then set aside for several minutes to soak. Rub the tamarind with your fingers to help it dissolve further.
Place a sieve over a wide bowl and pour the tamarind water through, pressing the pulp against the sieve to extract as much liquid as possible. Discard the pulp.
Pour the broth into a wide pot over medium heat and bring to a boil. Add the tamarind liquid and stir in, then add the vegetable(s) and cook at a low boil until tender. Serve hot or at room temperature.
kachin rice powder soup with chicken and ginger
SERVES 4
The cooks at Myit Sone, a Kachin restaurant in Rangoon, taught me this wonderful version of chicken-rice soup. Instead of starting with whole rice, as most chicken-rice soups do, the Kachin use toasted rice powder. The powder, a common ingredient in Kachin dishes, is a pantry staple you can easily make yourself. It has a seductive toasted-grain aroma, and it gives the soup a thickened texture that’s a real pleasure. The Karen have a similar porridge-like soup, khao beue, made of toasted rice simmered in a pork broth.
This recipe calls for soy sauce as well as salt; long ago, the Kachin would not have had soy sauce, but years of trade across the border between Kachin State and Yunnan Province in China mean that soy sauce is now a part of many Kachin cooks’ pantries.
5 cups water
2 tablespoons ginger cut into matchsticks
½ pound boneless chicken or about ¾ pound bone-in chicken, cut into bite-sized pieces
2 tablespoons soy sauce, or to taste
2 teaspoons salt, or to taste
½ cup coarsely chopped Vietnamese coriander (see Glossary) or coriander (optional)
Pour 2 cups of the water into a large pot and place over medium heat. Add the rice powder and stir thoroughly to blend it into the water. Add the remaining 3 cups water and the ginger and bring to a boil. Add the chicken, soy sauce, and salt and bring back to a boil, then cover and lower the heat to maintain a simmer. Cook for 20 minutes or so, until the chicken is tender and the flavors have had time to blend.
If the soup is thicker than you want, add more hot water and stir in. Taste and adjust the seasonings if necessary.
Serve plain, or top it with chopped fresh herbs, as you please.
