“TRIBAL WOMAN”
Mya Mya in her kitchen in Pakkoku.
MYA MYA WAS BORN over seventy years ago in Myitkyina, of mixed Kachin, Shan, and Bamar parents. She married a Bamar man from Pakkoku and she’s been living in that central Burmese town, ever since, for nearly fifty years. As we walked to the market together, many people greeted her on the street. She nodded back politely, but said to me, “You know, even after all these years, they still call me the tribal woman because my mother was Kachin.”
Mya Mya’s husband died recently; she’s carrying on their small guesthouse business day by day. Her daughter, Ko Ko, and four grandchildren live with her in the old house overlooking the river. Mya Mya has style: she pulls her hair back in a bun and wears soft pinks and mauves that flatter her skin. Her earrings are small Burmese rubies set in gold. She’s beautiful to watch as she goes about her day.
I spent almost all my time in Pakkoku hanging out in Mya Mya’s kitchen. Her daughter-in-law was visiting from Rangoon with her daughter, so there were a lot of people to feed, and lots of hands to do the work too. Everything happened in and around the kitchen, a cluttered high-ceilinged room that opened onto the backyard. The daughter-in-law chopped and cooked in one corner while Ko Ko’s children sat on the floor in front of small mirrors carefully applying thanaka paste (see this page) before heading to class. I’d chat with Mya Mya while Ko Ko’s oldest daughter agonized over which outfit to wear to a friend’s wedding.
By the time Ko Ko took me to the Bagan-bound boat on her motorcycle a couple of days later, I felt I’d become part of the family. Before leaving I signed their new guestbook and had a look at all the old ones. There were entries from the last thirty years, written by people from Korea, Spain, the USA, and elsewhere, travelers who had found a temporary home and welcome shelter in this small place on the Irrawaddy.
new potatoes with spiced shallot oil
SERVES 4 TO 6
In temperate and northern climates, we take the year-round availability of potatoes for granted. But in Rakhine State on Burma’s west coast, there’s a very limited growing season for potatoes, from February until early May—in other words, from a month before the start of the hot season until the rains begin.
Potatoes are eaten only in season there, and when they are small. In this dish they are dressed with shallot oil that is, in typical Rakhine fashion, made hot with a little chile. There’s an enticing contrasting tartness that comes in Burma from hibiscus flowers. To get the same effect, I use
sorrel leaves (especially in summer, when sorrel grows in my garden, in season with the new potato crop), which have a fresh lemony tang, or I get a tart edge from chopped
tomatillos or green tomatoes. If you have none of these, a generous squeeze of lime or lemon juice gives the same balance.
About 2 pounds very small new potatoes (1- to 1½-inch diameter) or small fingerling potatoes
1 green or red cayenne chile, or substitute 1 serrano chile, seeded and minced
½ cup thinly sliced sorrel leaves, or minced tomatillo or green tomato (see the headnote)
1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
Place the potatoes in a pot of cold water to barely cover and bring to a boil, then lower the heat and cook at a low boil until just cooked through. Drain, place back in the pot, cover, and set aside for 10 minutes.
Heat the oil in a small skillet over medium-high heat. Add the chile, and as soon as the oil starts to bubble around it, remove from the heat and set aside.
If the skin on the potatoes is at all tough, strip it off; otherwise, leave it on. Place the potatoes in a wide bowl, pour the chile oil over, add the sorrel or tomatillos or tomato, and toss. Add the salt and toss. Taste for salt, and adjust if you wish.
new potatoes with greens
You can wilt about 1½ cups chopped dandelion greens or fenugreek leaves in the oil alongside the chile, then add to the potatoes.
SERVES 4
Another light take on green vegetables. The oyster sauce, available in Asian grocery stores and well-stocked groceries, gives a smoky undernote to the dish. Try to find fresh young Napa cabbage for extra crispness.
About ¾ pound Napa cabbage
½ cup hot water
1 scant tablespoon oyster sauce
2 tablespoons peanut oil
⅛ teaspoon turmeric
2 dried red chiles
1 medium shallot, minced
1 teaspoon minced ginger
¼ teaspoon salt, or to taste
Cut the cabbage crosswise into ¼-inch slices, then slice them crosswise to make bite-sized pieces (you should have 4 loosely packed cups). Place in a bowl of cold water to wash thoroughly, then lift out, drain, and set aside.
Pour the hot water into a small bowl, add the oyster sauce, and stir well. Set aside.
Place a medium or large wok or large deep skillet over high heat. Add the oil, then lower the heat to medium-high and stir in the turmeric. Add the chiles, shallot, and ginger and stir-fry for about 30 seconds, until the shallot starts to soften.
Raise the heat to high, toss in the chopped greens and salt, and stir-fry, tossing and pressing the greens against the hot sides of the pan. When they have wilted and softened, 2 to 3 minutes, add the oyster sauce mixture. Bring to a boil, turn and stir for another 15 seconds or so to distribute flavors and finish cooking the greens, and turn out into a wide shallow bowl.
Serve hot or at room temperature.
simmered cabbage, shan style
[GALAAM OOP]SERVES 4 AS A MAIN COURSE
The Shan name of this dish indicates the cooking method (
oop) used for cooking the cabbage (
galaam). The
oop method of cooking involves a slow simmer of ingredients under a tightly sealed lid, with very little water and little or no oil. It’s a classic
Shan cooking method, one that is also used by the Tai Koen of eastern Shan State and northern Thailand. Here depth of flavor comes from soybean disks (miso paste is a fine substitute) and from the interplay of the roasted peanuts with the tomatoes and cabbage. The dish comes together in less than thirty minutes of simmering.
¼ cup peanut oil or vegetable oil
1 teaspoon turmeric
1 cup thinly sliced shallots
1 tablespoon salt, or to taste
1 small green cabbage or Savoy cabbage, finely shredded (about 4 cups) and washed
1 cup thin wedges of Roma (plum) or other fleshy tomatoes
Place a wok or a wide heavy pot over medium heat and add the oil. Toss in the chile powder, turmeric, shallots, and the tua nao powder, if using (do not add the miso now), and salt, and stir-fry for several minutes, until the shallots are starting to soften and become translucent.
Add the cabbage and tomatoes and stir well, then cover, lower the heat to medium-low, and cook for about 10 minutes, until the cabbage is partly wilted. Add the peanuts and the miso, if using, stir well, cover again, and continue to cook for another 10 to 15 minutes, until the cabbage is a softened mass.
Taste and adjust the salt if necessary, then serve hot or at room temperature.
simmered cabbage with pork (or beef)
If you’d like a heartier version of this dish, include a little pork or beef; you can then omit the tua nao or miso. Use ½ pound boneless pork shoulder, thinly sliced, or ground pork or ground beef. Once you have cooked the aromatics, add the meat and stir-fry until it has changed color, then add the cabbage and proceed as above. You’ll need to add a little more salt.
SERVES 2 OR 3 AS A MAIN COURSE, 4 AS A SIDE DISH
This mixed vegetable dish is tender and succulent, with a subtle toasted flavor from toasted rice powder. It’s traditionally made by steaming the vegetables and rice powder in a leaf-wrapped package. This adaptation uses a pot with a tight-fitting lid and a small amount of oil to prevent sticking. The vegetables slow-cook in their own steam, very like the Shan method of cooking called
oop (see
Simmered Cabbage, Shan Style, opposite).
The combination of vegetables here is a place to start but you can, for instance, substitute another leafy green for the bok choi. The important thing is to use vegetables that will soften easily in the steam, which means no carrots or other hard root vegetables. Every version of this dish that I have tasted includes a bitter element—I use radicchio or dandelion greens or a combination—as well as a balancing hint of sweetness and heat from ginger and a little red chile. With one chile, the heat is barely perceptible; two give more warmth.
Serve with roast chicken or roast beef or as a vegetarian main course.
About 2 tablespoons peanut oil
½ cup water
1 cup yard-long beans, cut into 1-inch lengths, or substitute sliced green beans
½ to 1 cup coarsely chopped small bok choi leaves
3 tablespoons minced ginger
1 cup chopped radicchio or dandelion greens, or a mixture
1 or 2 red cayenne chiles, seeded and finely sliced
½ cup sliced oyster or button mushrooms or other tender mushrooms
½ cup small okra or tender broccolini cut into ½-inch lengths, or substitute some small zucchini, sliced
¼ cup coarsely chopped Vietnamese coriander (see Glossary)
¼ cup chopped sawtooth herb (see Glossary) or sorrel
¾ teaspoon salt, or to taste
Place a wide heavy pot with a tight-fitting lid over medium heat. Add the rice powder, peanuts, oil, and water and mix, then add all the remaining ingredients and stir and turn to mix them well. Cover tightly, lower the heat to medium-low, and cook until the vegetables are tender, 10 to 15 minutes (take a peek after about 5 minutes and give a thorough stir to make sure things aren’t sticking; if they are, add another couple tablespoons 0f water and lower the heat a little more, then cover again).
Turn out into a bowl and serve.
