THOUSAND-BUDDHA TALES
Scenes from the Buddha cliffs at Kawgun; the reclining Buddha is spectacular.
IN 1980, on my first trip to Burma, there were few automobiles on the streets of Rangoon, and most of those were old British and American cars from the late 1940s and early ’50s. There was a disturbing sense of stopped time, for the government had closed the country off and was trying to keep out modernity. Men all wore traditional Burmese lungyi (sarongs); the women were all in traditional long narrow skirts and fitted long-sleeved tops. I was struck, as visitors always are, by their grace as they walked down the street.
When I got up to the Inle Lake area, the feeling of stopped time—or perhaps timelessness is a better word—was even stronger. There were no cars, no motorcycles. People used oxen to pull their plows, and they traveled to village markets on foot or in open-back trucks that operated like buses. Out on the lake, men rowed their narrow wooden boats standing up, with one leg wrapped around the paddle, powering it.
I met some tourists from Rangoon who told me about a thousand-Buddha cave at a small place called Pindaya. They said there was a guy in the village who had taken them there in his big old 1948 car; perhaps he’d take me. Thanks to him, I went to the Pindaya caves the next day in stately comfort. The cave entrance was up a long flight of covered steps. The Buddhas—some heads, some full statues, in niches high on the wall and in every cranny of the rock—gleamed white in the darkness. They were a magical, haunting sight.
Fast-forward thirty years: I was in another part of Burma, in Karen State, and headed out to see Buddha caves with a couple of other foreigners. This time I wasn’t in a grand old car, but a metal cart attached to the back of a motorcycle. It was slow and pretty bumpy, but I was in good company, so the trip was entertaining.
The Buddha caves were amazing, especially the Kawgun site, a towering cliff face covered with Buddha statues. At the foot of the cliff, a procession of white and gold plaster Buddhas—some standing, some sitting in meditation—leads to a grotto. There’s a temple too, tended by monks who live at a small monastery nearby. But everything is dwarfed by the cliffs—tall, slightly concave walls of pale yellow limestone covered with Buddhas of every shape and size, painted dark red and gold, fitted into niches or plastered onto the cliff face. The statues are so densely packed that from a distance the whole surface looks like a huge undulating embroidered shawl or a Persian rug.
Each of the statues in the Pindaya caves and on the cliff face at Kawgun is an offering, a form of prayer. This accumulation of prayer is a powerful testament to the enduring strength of Buddhism in Burma.
SERVES 6
In most of Burma sticky rice is eaten only occasionally, as a sweet flavored with sugar and often coconut as well. But for the Tai Koen of eastern Shan State, it’s a staple, eaten plain and unsweetened every day.
Sticky rice—or glutinous rice as it’s also called—is traditionally steamed in a basket over boiling water, with no seasoning or oil. The rice is soaked before steaming, so that it cooks quickly and evenly.
The most satisfying version of sticky rice that I’ve seen in Tai Koen households is a blend of white and black sticky rice. When the two rices are soaked together, the black rice tints the water and the white rice. The cooked rice is an attractive pale purple. You can, of course, just make plain white sticky rice.
To cook sticky rice, steam in either a conical basket that fits into the neck of a pot (the two are sold as a unit in many Asian stores), or a wide steamer (with a lid) that fits tightly over a pot. A cheesecloth liner prevents the rice from sticking to the basket or falling through the slats or holes of a steamer.
I find that people eat a surprising quantity of sticky rice, so it’s good to make more than you think you’ll need. Put any leftovers to delicious use by transforming them into crackers, as described in the variation.
3 cups white Thai sticky rice, rinsed in cold water and soaked for 6 to 12 hours in plenty of water
⅓ to ½ cup black sticky rice, rinsed and soaked with the white rice (optional)
Drain the rice. Fill the lower “water pot” of your steaming arrangement (see the headnote) with about 3 inches of water. Put the steamer top on the pot, line it with cheesecloth, and add the rice. The water in the lower pot should not touch the rice. If using a steamer, fit the lid on; if using a conical basket, place a lid loosely over the rice.
Place the pot over high heat and bring to a boil. Lower the heat slightly, to maintain a strong boil, and cook until the rice is tender, about 35 minutes. The rice will be shiny and chewy but cooked through.
Turn the rice out onto a clean work surface; use a wet wooden spoon or spatula to spread it out and then to fold the edges of it back over to make a pile. Pull the rice together with your hands and transfer to a basket with a lid, or a deep bowl, and cover with a damp cloth to prevent it from drying out. Invite your guests to use their hands to serve themselves chunks of rice, or put out a wooden spoon for serving.
rice cracker snacks
These are a treat for breakfast and even better as a snack or appetizer, served on their own or alongside a salsa or dip of any kind.
If you have sticky rice left over, pull off clumps of rice about 2 tablespoons in size and shape each into a roughly formed flat disk about 2 inches across. Press firmly to shape the disk, but don’t mash it. They’ll look like slightly lumpy large cookies. Set on a baking sheet, covered loosely with a cloth, to dry for 2 or 3 days.
To make the crackers, heat about 1½ inches of peanut oil in a stable wok or wide shallow pot over medium-high heat. To test, toss in a little of the sticky rice; if the oil bubbles around it, it is ready. Add the rice disks one at a time, without crowding; you don’t want them to stick together. The rice will puff a little in the hot oil and turn white. Use a slotted spoon to keep the crackers from sticking to each other and to turn them over after a minute or so. Fry until puffed on all sides, then lift out and put on a paper-towel-lined plate. Repeat with the remaining crackers.
inle lake rice with garlic oil
SERVES 4
The Intha people of Inle Lake claim this recipe is theirs, but so do the Shan near the lake. Whoever thought of it, this cooked rice kneaded with cooked potato (potatoes are grown up in the hills above the lake) and/or with cooked, flaked boneless fish, is a real keeper. Serve the rice-potato blend instead of plain rice, or serve the fish version as a one-dish meal with a side of cooked vegetables. Put out
Red Chile Oil or another chile-hot condiment.
2 cups freshly cooked jasmine rice
2 cups crumbled boiled potato
1 cup poached or grilled, deboned, and flaked fish (optional)
About 2 tablespoons Garlic Oil plus 2 tablespoons Fried Garlic
¼ to ½ cup chopped coriander (optional)
1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
Place the rice and potato in a bowl and use your hands to blend and knead them together. Add the fish, if using, and repeat the kneading. Add a little salt and the oil and knead together. Taste and add more salt as needed. Mix well, then serve topped with the fried garlic and a sprinkling of coriander if you wish.
peanut and rice porridge
[KHAO POON TUA LIN]MAKES ABOUT 5 CUPS; SERVES 4 TO 6
On my first morning in Kengtung, the cultural center of the Tai Koen people in the eastern part of Shan State, I stared at a pale pink-mauve mass, like tinted soft polenta, that steamed in the cool morning air, and couldn’t imagine what it was. The vendor at the small morning market saw my puzzlement, so she scooped out a ladleful, poured it into a bowl, and handed it to me with a spoon and a “taste it, go ahead” gesture. Smooth on the tongue, rich-tasting … it took a moment, because the combination was so unexpected: a puree of peanuts and rice! As I ate the rest of my sample I watched people flavor their porridge.
Some people order rice noodles topped with the porridge as a sauce, along with condiments such as shallot oil, soy sauce, and fresh herbs. Others use it like polenta, as the base of their morning bowl, topped with meat sauce (like the sauce for
Shan Village Khaut Swe), blanched pea tendrils, and various condiments. Then every customer carefully stirs the whole combination to blend everything.
The Tai Koen name of this dish means “rice noodles with peanuts”; in Burmese the name is ni bei thamin san, “peanuts with rice.” It’s become a favorite in our house, especially on chilly days, as a substitute for plain rice with supper. I like to stir in shallot oil just before serving, as well as a dash of soy sauce, and some fresh coriander leaves and bright green pea tendrils.
1 cup raw peanuts, in their papery skins, rinsed
About 5 cups water
1 cup jasmine or other long-grain tender white rice
1½ teaspoons salt, or to taste
1 tablespoon peanut oil
Soy sauce (optional)
OPTIONAL TOPPINGS AND FLAVORINGS
1 cup coriander leaves
2 cups pea tendrils, blanched in boiling water for 1 to 2 minutes and coarsely chopped
Place the peanuts in a wide heavy pot with a tight-fitting lid, add 3 cups of the water, and bring to a vigorous boil over medium-high heat. Cover, lower the heat to maintain a steady low boil, and cook until the peanuts are tender, about 1 hour.
Meanwhile wash the rice in several changes of water, swishing it around gently in the water.
When the peanuts are tender, add the rice and salt, along with enough water to cover by 1½ inches or so. Stir and raise the heat to bring back to a boil, then cover, lower the heat to maintain a simmer, and cook for 20 minutes, or until the rice is tender.
Turn out into a food processor (you may have to work in batches) and process to a smooth puree. Transfer the mixture back to the pot, add hot water as necessary to give it a soft texture, and stir in the peanut oil. (You can make this ahead and then reheat it just before serving; the mixture thickens as it stands, so you will want to add another ½ cup or more water and stir it in as you are heating it.)
Transfer to a large bowl and stir in the shallot oil, then taste for seasoning and add salt or soy sauce if you wish. You don’t want it highly seasoned, because this—like plain rice—is meant to be a neutral background to other flavors. (For a more highly seasoned version, see below.) Serve with the toppings and flavorings of your choice.
noodles with peanut-rice sauce
You can use the porridge as a sauce or dressing for rice noodles. Allow 1 pound dried noodles or 1½ pounds fresh noodles for 4 people. Once the sauce is ready, bring a large pot of water to the boil and drop in the noodles. Fresh noodles will be ready in a minute or two; dried noodles will take longer to soften fully. Drain, then distribute among your guests’ bowls. Add a little shallot oil and toss, to prevent the noodles from sticking. If the sauce is very thick, add hot water to loosen it. Stir in 1 to 2 tablespoons soy sauce or another 1 to 1½ teaspoons salt, to taste. Top each serving of noodles with a generous portion of sauce and some coriander leaves and raw or blanched pea tendrils. Invite your guests to add flavorings as they wish and to stir the whole mass together. Serve with sliced tomatoes or chopped cucumber and a chile-hot condiment sauce.
Peanut and Rice Porridge, topped with peanuts, chile oil, sesame seeds, and blanched pea tendrils. At top are small bowls of flavorings (clockwise from top left): sesame seeds, Red Chile Oil, and Kachin Salsa topped with thinly sliced green cayenne chile.
SERVES 8
This luxurious version of “plain rice,” which is delightfully aromatic as it cooks, is a good choice for special occasions. It pairs well with a chicken curry or with
Kachin Pounded Beef with Herbs. There are many versions of coconut rice. Some of them are a little sweet, but this one is just lightly perfumed with shallots, a single clove, and a little cinnamon, and it’s salted, rather than being left unseasoned as plain rice is.
3 cups jasmine rice
1 tablespoon peanut oil or vegetable oil
3 or 4 small shallots, cut lengthwise in half or into quarters (about ¼ cup)
1 clove
One 2-inch piece cinnamon stick, broken in half
¼ teaspoon turmeric
2 teaspoons salt
1½ cups canned or fresh coconut milk
About 2½ cups water
Wash the rice by immersing it in a bowl of cold water, swishing it around, and draining; repeat two or three times. Set aside.
Place a pot with a tight-fitting lid over medium heat. Add the oil (don’t skip it, or the coconut milk will make the rice stick to the bottom of the pot), then add the shallots and cook, stirring occasionally, for 3 or 4 minutes. Add the rice, clove, cinnamon stick, turmeric, and salt and stir gently. Add the coconut milk and 2 cups of the water, then measure the depth of the liquid: place the tip of your index finger on the top surface of the rice—the liquid should come up to your first joint. Add water if needed. Bring to a boil, then cover, lower the heat to medium-low, and cook for 5 minutes. Lower the heat to the lowest setting and cook the rice for another 15 minutes. Remove from the heat and let rest for 5 minutes.
Shake the pot gently, then remove the lid and use a wet rice paddle or flat wooden spoon to turn the rice: slide the paddle or spoon down the inside wall of the pot or cooker and turn the rice gently. Repeat all around the edges of the pot. Cover until ready to serve, hot or at room temperature.
LEFTOVERS: The coconut milk makes each rice grain tender and separate, so that leftover rice doesn’t clump at all; it’s also very flavorful. It doesn’t need refrying. Warm it over steam or in the oven, or serve it at room temperature, topped simply with cooked beans or an egg and perhaps some fried shallots or greens.
