INTERNATIONAL PEPPER SAUCES
To be considered a local in the café scene in Chiang Mai, Thailand, you have to eat the fiery jungle curry without wincing, whining, or panting like a dog. In Bangladesh, you are considered a wimp if you can’t handle the bhut jolokia hot sauce. The starring role of chiles in Asian cuisine is odd when you consider that capsicum pods aren’t native there. Chile peppers didn’t grow in Asia or Africa until the Spanish and Portuguese began spreading them after the first voyage of Columbus.
But don’t try telling the fiery food–loving locals in Southeast Asia or Africa that their chiles are actually American. Over the four centuries since their introduction, the chiles have hybridized into unique forms. African piri-piri peppers, Thai chiles, and other localized pod types inspire intense loyalty among those who eat them.
The strange relationship between humankind and peppers got started thousands of years ago. It’s easy to imagine a native American cave dweller taking his first bite of a chile pepper, but its hard to understand why he would take a second. The most popular theory for why humans started eating peppers is that highly seasoned food causes “gustatory sweating.” Early humans ate peppers because they cooled them off in hot weather by increasing perspiration, particularly of the scalp.
Gustatory sweating might still be part of the reason that chile peppers and hot sauces are beloved in hot climates—that and the fact that pepper plants flourish in the tropics and subtropics with very little effort and are therefore relatively inexpensive. But why do people who have air conditioners eat hot peppers? And what about the increased popularity of hot sauces in the northern part of the United States, Canada, and Great Britain?
Exactly why modern people who live in air-conditioned houses crave foods that are painful to eat has long been a mystery. Psychologists have developed several theories. One holds that eating ever hotter hot sauces is a thrill-seeking behavior akin to riding roller coasters or going to see horror movies. The body reacts to the perceived danger by producing a rush of endorphins, a powerful painkiller, which induces a natural high. And the rush of endorphins is habit-forming.
Another explanation is that eating chile peppers is tied to changes in our culture. Humankind’s traditional food neophobia (fear of new foods) kept us from getting poisoned for most of our evolutionary history. But scholarly studies suggest that in modern urban areas, our ancient food neophobia is being replaced by a new food neophilia (love of new foods).
As people are exposed to other cultures—through travel, trade, or television—their willingness to try foreign foods increases. The fast-food hamburger may be the most familiar symbol of globalization, but globalization has also made the United States, a country where eating raw fish was once considered ridiculous, one of the world’s largest consumers of sushi. And when it comes to chiles, the globalization that started some four hundred years ago in America is coming back around.
Twenty years ago, the popularity of Mexican food got Americans eating more chile peppers and picante sauces. The chips and salsa proved to be a gateway drug that led to the extremely hot foods served in Asian restaurants. The innocent inquiry “Mild, medium, hot, or Thai hot?” made us all realize that there are levels of spiciness we had never even considered before.
In the 1970s, changes in immigration quotas lead to the rapid growth of Asian, Southeast Asian, and African communities in the United States. And, in 1975, the fall of Saigon brought a large influx of Vietnamese immigrants to California and the Gulf Coast. Slowly, over several decades, beef noodle pho, banh mi sandwiches, and summer rolls with dipping sauces have made their way into the culinary mainstream in California and the Gulf states. Meanwhile, Vietnamese immigrants have embraced Louisiana crawfish, jalapeño chiles, and American beef.
When I asked Thuy Tran, a second generation Vietnamese-American, to teach me to make nuoc mam cham, she gave me a tour of her restaurant, b-10 Vietnamese Café in Houston, Texas. Her mother’s restaurant in Houston’s Chinatown was named Givral, an homage to a famous café in Saigon. Tran named her restaurant after item number b-10, a barbecued pork banh mi, which was the most popular item on the menu at Givral.
Tran also introduced computerized cash registers, eye-catching graphics, and some innovative items like “The Sloppy” banh mi sandwich, a Vietnamese take on a sloppy joe made with curry instead of barbecue sauce. She also serves bo luc lac, the classic Vietnamese steak dish, on a Tex-Mex style sizzling comal. You can also get your lemongrass-marinated filet mignon with two fried eggs for breakfast, a dish she calls “Vietnamese Steak and Eggs.”
As our society becomes increasingly multicultural, we are being exposed to new and foreign foods at an unprecedented level. And we are adopting those new cuisines into our everyday life without even thinking much about it. If you have a bottle of Sriracha sauce, Indian curry paste, or sambal oelek on your refrigerator door shelf, you know exactly what I am talking about.
The scholarly study of food neophobia and food neophilia in North America and Western Europe has been going on for a long time and is far more complex than the broad strokes painted here. Sociologists are interested in the subject because food neophilia is a predictor for other cultural behaviors and attitudes that have consequences for our societies far beyond the sales of hot sauce and the success rate of Asian restaurants. But “world food” lovers have their own reasons to be interested in the subject.
I think it was around 2007 when a sambal won the special variety category of the Austin Hot Sauce Festival contest for the first time. Since then we have sampled curries, chutneys, and chile pastes of many ethnicities. There is a staggering array of hot pepper sauces made in Asia. The hot ketchup–like sauces of Sri Racha in Thailand are easy for Americans to love, while Malayasian sauces made with fermented shrimp paste induce a grimace among the hot sauce contest judges. Making Asian hot sauces that appeal to American tastes is now a major industry.
Here’s a collection of international hot sauce recipes adapted for American kitchens using easily available ingredients.
SPICY PEANUT SAUCE
———Makes about 3 cups———
The recipe for this sauce comes from b-10 Vietnamese Café in Houston where it is a favorite with summer rolls. It is very similar to the Indonesian and Thai peanut sauces that are famously served with street food dishes like beef and chicken satay.
1 cup water
1 cup hoisin sauce
½ cup smooth peanut butter
¼ cup sugar
Combine the water, hoisin sauce, peanut butter, sugar, and chile mash in a saucepan over low heat and cook, stirring to dissolve the sugar and combine the flavors, for about 5 minutes.
Allow to cool and store in the refrigerator. Bring to room temperature before serving. This will keep for up to a week in the refrigerator.
NUOC MAM CHAM
(Vietnamese Dipping Sauce)
———Makes about 3 cups———
At b-10 Vietnamese Café, this dipping sauce base is stored in the refrigerator. To make a bowl of dipping sauce, the chiles, herbs, and garnishes are added just before the sauce is served. Thuy Tran makes the sauce with vinegar at the restaurant, but at home she often uses lime juice instead. You can also use a blend of both.
2 cups water
¼ cup sugar
⅓ cup freshly squeezed lime juice or rice wine vinegar
⅓cup fish sauce, such as Squid brand
1 clove garlic, shaved into slivers
1 teaspoon chopped fresh cilantro
1 teaspoon chopped fresh mint
1 teaspoon chopped roasted peanuts
1 teaspoon julienned carrots
To make the base, heat the water and sugar together until the sugar dissolves. Take off the heat and allow to cool. Add the lime juice and fish sauce. Store this base in the refrigerator for up to a month.
To serve, pour ½ cup of the base into a bowl and mix in chiles, along with the garlic, cilantro, mint, peanuts, and carrots, if desired. Always discard the leftover sauce in the bowl.
Goi Cuon
GOI CUON
(Vietnamese Summer Rolls)
———Makes 8 rolls———
You can make these easy rice paper rolls with shrimp, chicken, pork, or just vegetables. In my favorite version, sizzling strips of pork right out of the pan are wrapped up with cold vegetables and shrimp for a stunning combination of hot and cold. Leftover pork chops are perfect for the “twice-cooked” pork. I like to serve these with both the
Spicy Peanut Sauce and
Nuoc Mam Cham.
8 ounces rice vermicelli noodles
16 pencil-thin strips cooked pork
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
½ teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon peanut oil
8 sheets rice paper, preferably 8 inches in diameter
16 medium to large shrimp, cooked, peeled, and halved lengthwise
¼ cup shredded carrot
4 romaine lettuce leaves, torn in half lengthwise, stem discarded
16 cucumber spears, seeds removed
2 scallions, trimmed and cut into lengthwise slivers
2 tablespoons chopped fresh mint leaves
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro leaves
32 basil leaves
2 tablespoons chopped salted peanuts
Cook the noodles according to the directions on the package. Allow to cool.
When all the other ingredients are ready, arrange them on the counter or work area. Lay out a clean kitchen towel. Put hot water (120°F) in a bowl next to a towel.
Toss the pork with salt, pepper, and garlic powder. Heat the oil in a skillet and cook the pork strips until sizzling, turning a few times, about 2 minutes.
Soften a sheet of rice paper in the water for 10 seconds and lay it on the towel while it is still rigid. It will continue to soften as you work with it. In the middle of the rice paper, lay 4 shrimp pieces and about an eighth of the carrot, lettuce, cucumber, scallions, mint, and cilantro leaves. Top with 4 basil leaves and 2 strips of hot pork; sprinkle with chopped peanuts and roll up the rice paper, keeping it fairly tight. You can roll in the ends burrito-style, if you have large sheets of rice paper, or just roll it up and allow the ingredients to protrude from the ends of the roll, if you are working with smaller sheets.
Repeat this process until all the ingredients are used up. Serve immediately while the pork is hot, with the
Spicy Peanut Sauce and
Nuoc Mam Cham as dipping sauces.
HOMEMADE SRIRACHA SAUCE
———Makes about 1 cup———
The famous
Huy Fong Rooster Brand Sriracha Sauce is made in California from red jalapeños. It is named after the hot sauces of the Thai coastal town of Sri Racha. The Thai Sri Racha sauces are thinner and runnier than the American version, which is very close to the consistency of ketchup. You can make your own Sriracha sauce with fresh chiles, if you like, but it doesn’t last very long in the refrigerator. Most people agree the fermented version tastes much better; it also lasts a lot longer.
+ If you have some
fermented pepper mash on hand, it’s easy to make your own homemade fermented Sriracha sauce. And since you don’t need as much vinegar, you will probably like the homemade version better than the stuff in the bottle.
2 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 tablespoon dark brown sugar
4 tablespoons rice wine vinegar
2 garlic cloves
Combine the sugars with the vinegar in a small saucepan and heat until the sugars dissolve. Allow the vinegar mixture to cool. Combine the vinegar mixture with the mash and garlic and purée in a blender until very smooth. Strain to remove any grit or large particles. Store the sauce in a squeeze bottle in the refrigerator for up to 3 weeks if made with fresh chiles, or for up to 6 months if made with fermented chiles.
Sajoer Boontje
SAMBAL
———Makes 3½ cups———
Sambal is the term used to describe a simple pepper paste that is used as a substitute for fresh chiles in Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, the Philippines, and Sri Lanka. It is also the name used to describe commercial pepper pastes, such as
sambal oelek. These highly concentrated pastes are very hot. They are often used as table condiments, in cooking, and as a base for the more elaborate sauces of Indonesia and Malaysia that are also known as
sambals. + There are some three hundred varieties of
sambal in Indonesia alone.
Sambal kecap manis is a sweet soy sauce with tomato, shallots, and lime that has become popular among American chefs.
Sambal dabu dabu is a mild chile sauce that tastes like a Mexican salsa.
Sambal asam is a tart tamarind-flavored sauce.
Sambal balado is made with shallots, garlic, tomato, and lime juice.
Sambal terasi is made with the highly aromatic fermented shrimp paste called
terais in Indonesia and
belacan in Mayalasia.
+ Since Indonesia was a Dutch colony,
sambals are also found in the Dutch-Indonesian restaurants of Holland and throughout Dutch culinary culture. You’ll find recipes for the more complex Indonesian and Malaysian sambals in the excellent cookbook,
Cradle of Flavor, by
James Oseland. Here’s a sweet and spicy
sambal that’s easy to make in an American home kitchen. Serve with
Telor Belado,
Eggplant Sambal, or
Sajoer Boontje (pictured
here).
2½ cups chopped shallots (about 8 shallots)
4 large garlic cloves, chopped
4 lemongrass stalks (trimmed with tough outer leaves removed), thinly sliced
2 tablespoons tamarind pulp
2 tablespoons minced peeled galangal (substitute ginger, if necessary)
¾ cup light brown sugar
1 tablespoon salt
10 fresh Red Thai chiles (or substitute cayenne chiles), stemmed
3 large red serrano chiles, stemmed and minced
1 cup chopped tomatoes
¼ cup vegetable oil
Juice of 3 limes
Combine all the ingredients in a mortar and grind into a fine paste. Or use a blender or food processor to purée all ingredients into a paste. Pour the ground mixture into a saucepan and cook very slowly over low heat until a little oil rises to the surface, about 10 minutes. Store in a sealed container in the refrigerator for up to 1 week.
Heat 1 tablespoon vegetable oil in a wok or skillet and stir-fry 4 cups of unpeeled eggplant cubes over high heat until browned, about 3 minutes. Add a few teaspoons of soy sauce and rice wine vinegar, cover, and cook for a few more minutes over low heat, just until tender. Add 1 cup sambal, toss to coat, and serve over rice.
Peel four hard-boiled eggs. Fry in small skillet filled with ½ inch of hot oil over high heat, turning once or twice, until a skin develops, about three to five minutes. Serve the eggs in a bowl with ½ cup sambal poured over top. Or substitute a dozen quail eggs for the chicken eggs and serve as a shared appetizer.
Heat 1 tablespoon of vegetable oil in a wok or skillet over high heat and stir-fry 1 onion, chopped. When the onion is translucent, about 3 minutes, add 1 pound green beans, trimmed and cut into 2-inch lengths. Cook until the beans are a bright green, about 3 minutes. Add 1 cup sambal and ½ cup coconut milk. Cook for another few minutes, tossing to coat the beans with the sambal.
GREEN CURRY PASTE
———Makes 1 cup———
Thailand absorbed much of its early culinary culture from Indonesia, but Indian culture and cuisine have also had a particularly strong influence since the arrival of Buddhism in the third century. Thai curries were inspired by Indian curries, but they were made with coconut milk instead of ghee and yogurt since Thailand lacked dairy products. Fresh herbs were also much more prevalent in Thai curries, especially in green ones like this.
+ Use this spicy curry paste to make
Green Curry Shrimp or
Raj Dixit’s Green Curry Chow-Chow.
1 teaspoon cumin seeds, toasted and ground
1 teaspoon coriander seeds, toasted and ground
1 teaspoon white peppercorns, toasted and ground
1 clove garlic
3 shallots
1 bunch scallions, trimmed
3 stalks lemongrass (trimmed with tough outer leaves removed), minced
1 tablespoon minced, peeled galangal
10 kaffir lime leaves
Stems from 1 bunch cilantro
20 fresh green Thai chiles (or substitute 5 serranos), or to taste
Grind all the ingredients in a mortar into a fine paste, or purée at high speed in a blender, adding a little water to get the blades moving. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks.
GREEN CURRY SHRIMP
———Makes 6 servings———
Thai curries are soupier than Indian curries and generally the fresh chiles make them a lot hotter. The bright flavors of the herbs and green chiles are a natural combination with fresh seafood. I like to make this curry extremely spicy—the heat slows me down so I savor every bite.
2 tablespoons peanut oil
6 green Thai chiles, or to taste
2 cups diced eggplant (1-inch dice)
4 kaffir lime leaves
3 stalks lemongrass (trimmed with tough outer leaves removed), very thinly sliced
1½ cups coconut milk
1 pound fresh large shrimp, peeled and deveined
2 tablespoons Asian fish sauce, such as Squid brand
36 fresh basil leaves
Hot steamed rice
Heat the oil in a large sauté pan over medium heat and add the curry paste, stirring until the curry is dissolved and bubbly. Add the chiles, eggplant, kaffir lime leaves, lemongrass, and coconut milk and stir. Cook until the eggplant is soft, 4 minutes. Add the shrimp and cook until they just begin to curl, 3 to 5 minutes, depending on the size. Mix in the fish sauce.
To serve, divide the curry among six bowls, garnish each with 6 fresh basil leaves, and serve with steamed rice on the side.
BERBERE
———Makes about ½ cup powder or 2 cups paste———
Award-winning chef
Marcus Samuelsson was born in Ethiopia and now operates Red Rooster restaurant in Harlem. His cooking has put berbere, Ethiopia’s complex pepper and spice mix, in the spotlight.
+ Ethiopians always keep some of the powdered version on hand so they can whip up berbere paste whenever they want. Berbere paste is made by sautéing the powder with onions, garlic, paprika, and liquids. Grind your own spices
as described.
1 tablespoon cayenne pepper
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon ground ginger
½ teaspoon ground cardamom
½ teaspoon ground coriander
½ teaspoon fenugreek
¼ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
⅛ teaspoon ground cloves
⅛ teaspoon ground cinnamon
⅛ teaspoon ground allspice
20 dried crushed chile pequín pods, 10 dried crushed chiles de árbol, or ¼ cup New Mexican chile powder
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
2 tablespoons finely chopped onion
1 tablespoon finely chopped garlic
3 tablespoons dry red wine
1 cup paprika
Berbere Powder
1½ cups water
To make the powder, combine all the powder ingredients and store in a sealed canister in a cool, dry place for up to several months.
To make the paste, heat the oil in a saucepan over medium heat and cook the onion until wilted, about 3 minutes. Add the garlic and continue to cook until soft, 1 minute. Add the wine, paprika, and about ½ cup berbere powder. Add the water and stir until well combined. Cool the mixture, transfer to a blender, and purée into a smooth paste. Use as a condiment or to make Ethiopian wat dishes.
Doro Wat
DORO WAT
———Serves 4———
Known as the Ethiopian national dish, doro wat is the most popular traditional food in that country. It is often eaten from a communal bowl with each diner using injera bread to scoop out a portion.
¼ cup lemon juice
2 teaspoons salt, plus more as needed
4 bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs (about 2 pounds)
3 cups chopped onions
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 tablespoon peeled, minced fresh ginger (½-inch piece)
Water (optional)
¼ cup butter
2 tablespoons paprika
¾ cup chicken stock
¼ cup red wine
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper, or to taste
Freshly ground black pepper
4 hard-boiled eggs, peeled
Injera bread or hot cooked rice, to serve
Combine the lemon juice and salt in a large, nonreactive mixing bowl and stir until slightly dissolved. Add the chicken thighs, one at a time, dipping both sides of each piece in the marinade to coat. Cover and allow to marinate in the refrigerator for about 30 minutes.
While the chicken is marinating, purée the onions, garlic, and ginger in a food processor or blender. Add a little water, if necessary, to get the blades moving.
Heat the butter in a Dutch oven over medium heat and stir in the paprika to color the oil. Stir in the berbere paste and cook for 3 minutes, until heated through. Add the onion mixture and sauté until most of the moisture evaporates and the mixture reduces, about 15 minutes.
Pour in the stock and wine, add cayenne to taste, and season with salt and pepper. Remove the chicken from the lemon juice and discard the marinade. Add the chicken to the pot and cover with sauce. Bring the sauce to a boil, reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer for 45 minutes, flipping the chicken halfway through. Add water, if necessary, to maintain the liquid level.
Add the whole hard-boiled eggs and continue to cook until the chicken is very tender, 10 to 15 minutes. Adjust seasoning and serve hot with injera bread or rice.
Substitute cubes of beef stew meat for the chicken and cook until tender, which can take up to 45 minutes.
Omit the chicken. Cut 2 pounds of zucchini or summer squash into cubes and cook until tender, about 10 minutes.
When making berbere, curry powder, or other dry spice mixes, grind your own spices. The flavor will be fresher and more intense. I prefer to toast cumin seeds, coriander seeds, fenugreek seeds, cardamom pods, and peppercorns separately in a hot, dry skillet until fragrant, as some spices take longer than others. After they cool, use a either a mortar and pestle or a propeller grinder, like the kind you use for coffee, to powder the toasted spices. (If you use the same grinder for coffee and spices, clean it out by grinding a little cornmeal before switching uses.)
PIRI-PIRI SAUCE
———Makes 2 small portions———
Peppers were introduced to the Portuguese colonies of Africa shortly after the first voyage of Columbus. They quickly began to thrive in the wild and were spread across Africa by birds. Piri-piri, peri-peri, and pili-pili are various written versions of a Swahili term that literally means “pepper pepper.” These are all names for the chile known as the African bird’s eye pepper in English. The small pointed chile is a cultivar of Capsicum frutescens, the same species as Tabasco peppers. It grows in Malawi, South Africa, Ghana, Nigeria, Zambia, Zimbabwe, and Mozambique. It is also found growing wild in the jungles of Sudan. Piri-piri sauce is an important part of Portuguese cooking and the hybrid African-Portuguese cusines of Angola, Mozambique, and South Africa. + Portugalla restaurant in Houston makes their piri-piri sauce fresh to order, and serves it in a Chinese soup spoon for presentation. They use red or yellow Thai peppers instead of African bird peppers, but red chile pequíns work well, too. Serve the sauce with African dishes or as a condiment for grilled chicken.
¼ cup red bird’s eye chiles, chile pequíns, or fresh red Thai chiles
1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
½ teaspoon minced garlic
½ teaspoon minced fresh peeled ginger
Pinch of salt
1 tablespoon olive oil
Remove the stems and mince the chiles. Combine with the lemon juice, garlic, ginger, salt, and oil in a mixing bowl. Use immediately.
HOT AJVAR
———Makes 1½ cups———
It’s easy to forget that until World War I, the Ottoman Empire stretched from Indonesia to the former Yugoslavian republics. Eastern Europe acquired its own hot and spicy food traditions under the rule of the Turkish sultans. Eggplant dips and spreads are common Turkish appetizers, typically served with pita bread. + In the Balkan countries, a variation of these eggplant spreads, called ajvar, has become a culinary icon. Ajvar is typically made once a year, after the autumn harvest in a canning marathon that produces the zimnica (winter foods). Jams, jellies, pickles, pickled chile peppers, pickled tomatoes, and countless other preserves are made. But for many, ajvar is the most important canned item of all. + Ajvar is a popular condiment with the spicy Balkan hamburgers called pljeskavica and the kebab-shaped cevapcici. But ajvar is also eaten thickly spread on buttered bread as an appetizer. + In Macedonia and Northern Croatia, the ajvar is fiery hot. Since we don’t have the long, spicy Hungarian paprika peppers in Houston, my Balkan-Texan friends mix roasted red bell peppers with jalapeños to make hot ajvar at home. + I made my first batch on a charcoal grill and was proud of its smoky flavor. But one of my Bosnian friends had a suggestion to improve the recipe. After the eggplant and peppers are roasted on the grill and the skins and seeds are removed, she said her mom simmered the vegetables with the garlic and olive oil on the stove for a while. The extra step was worth it, and the silky texture that results from slow cooking in oil is amazing. + Serve as an appetizer with home-baked bread or on fresh pita with feta. Or use as condiment with grilled chicken or Balkan burgers.
3 to 5 jalapeños
2 eggplants (about 1 pound each)
3 large garlic cloves, chopped
½ cup olive oil
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Parsley sprigs, for garnish
Prepare a hot fire in a grill or preheat the oven to 475°F.
Place the bell peppers, jalapeños, and eggplants on the grill and cover, or place on a baking sheet in the oven. Cook, turning occasionally, until well charred, 20 to 30 minutes. Place the vegetables in a paper bag, or put them in a bowl and cover with plastic wrap, and let them steam for at least 10 minutes or up to 1 hour. Peel off and discard the burnt skin along with the stems and seeds.
Coarsely chop the vegetables and put them in a pan with the garlic and olive oil. Simmer over very low heat, stirring often to avoid burning, until the garlic is soft, about 15 minutes. Remove the vegetables from the oil and allow to cool, reserving the oil.
When the vegetables are cooled, put them in a food processor with the lemon juice. Pulse five or six times until just combined. For a chunky ajvar, add the reserved olive oil and pulse a few more times. For a creamy ajvar, slowly drizzle the cooled olive oil from the pan into the processor with the blades turning, until the mixture forms a smooth emulsion. Add salt and pepper to taste.
To serve, transfer to a bowl and garnish with parsley. Store in the refrigerator for up to 1 week.
Clockwise, from left: Green Curry Chow-Chow, Red-Eye Mayo, Tomato-Coriander Berbere, Pineapple Pique, and Habanero Cranberry Sauce
