Grilled chicken is insanely popular in Thailand. There are stalls selling it all across the country from the Andaman Coast to the Lao border, all slightly different, all equally delicious, and everyone has their favourites. While I love SP Chicken in Chiang Mai and Gai Yang Rabeab in Khon Kaen, my favourite is Khun Tee’s roadside stall in Chiang Dao, which is – as the Michelin Guide would say – worth a detour.
Khun Tee brines his chicken prior to grilling. I’ve done my best to replicate it here. I also include a marinade. If you brine the chicken, use the marinade as a baste while you’re cooking. Otherwise, marinate the chicken for at least one hour, ideally six.
Serves 4–6
1 x 1.5-kg/3 lb 5-oz chicken, spatchcocked
for the brine
3 litres/5 pints/13 cups water
1 tsp white peppercorns, lightly crushed
1 tsp coriander seeds, lightly crushed
3–4 large garlic cloves
125 g/4½ oz/½ cup salt
50 g/1¾ oz/¼ cup caster (superfine) sugar
for the marinade
4–6 garlic cloves
1 tbsp white peppercorns
4 coriander (cilantro) roots (see here)
1 tbsp palm sugar
1 tbsp nam pla (fish sauce)
1 tbsp light soy sauce
a splash of vegetable oil
a good pinch of salt
To make the brine, combine all the ingredients together in a large bowl, making sure that the sugar and salt have completely dissolved. Immerse the chicken in the brine for a good 6 hours. Then remove it and pat dry before cooking.
To make the marinade, pound the garlic, peppercorns and coriander root together in a pestle and mortar until you have a paste. Then stir in the remaining ingredients until they’re well combined.
If you are not brining the chicken, rub all the marinade on to it and leave for as long as you can. If you have brined the chicken, reserve the marinade to baste the chicken as it cooks.
To cook, barbecue (grill) the chicken to the side of banked coals, turning from time to time, until cooked through and the juices run clear. This should take 45 minutes–1 hour, depending on the chicken and the barbecue.
Alternatively, roast the chicken in an oven preheated to 180°C fan/200°C/400°F/gas mark 6 for about 45 minutes, again until cooked through and the juices run clear.
Serve with sticky rice, Som Tum Thai (Green Papaya Salad, see here), Tum Tang Kwa (Pounded Cucumber Salad, see here) or Soop Nor Mai (Pickled Bamboo-shoot Salad, see here), and with the Nam Jim Jaew (Roasted Chilli Dipping Sauce) of your choice (see here).
I’ve had so many versions of this over the years that it’s hard to pick a favourite or a definitive version. So this is my own take, based on a number of the Thai and Thai-Chinese barbecued pork recipes I’ve had. Serve with Som Tum Thai (Green Papaya Salad, see here) or Tum Tang Kwa (Pounded Cucumber Salad, see here) or, as they do in Loei and Nong Khai on the Laotian border, in a baguette with lettuce, pickled carrots and daikon (mooli), and some spicy Sriracha sauce.
Serves 4–6
4 small pork steaks or chops
2 tbsp thick soy sauce or kecap manis
2 tbsp light soy sauce
2 tbsp caster (superfine) sugar
4–6 garlic cloves, finely chopped
plenty of freshly ground white pepper
2 tsp vegetable oil
Make diagonal slashes in the pork chops without cutting through them and put them into a wide shallow dish.
Mix together the two types of soy sauce, sugar, garlic, pepper and the oil. Pour the marinade over the chops, rubbing it in and turning the chops in it. Cover and leave for a minimum of 2 hours, preferably overnight.
Heat a grill (broiler) pan until hot and grill (broil) the pork, basting frequently with the marinade, until cooked, dark brown and sticky, about 8–12 minutes.
I’ve always believed that ‘follow your nose’ is sound advice for the food writer. And this recipe is a case in point.
I had taken some visitors to the beautiful Khum Lanna cookery school in northern Thailand and, while they were having their class, I smelt something rather delicious. It turned out that, just around the corner, they were cooking the staff lunch… this dish, sticky rice and Som Tum Thai (Green Papaya Salad, see here). So I introduced myself and – hey, presto – managed to get the recipe. It’s very simple and incredibly moreish.
I also like to serve it sliced in crusty baguettes, like a Thai banh mi.
Serves 4–6
400 g/14 oz pork collar in a single 2 cm/¾ inch thick piece
3 tbsp coconut milk
1 tbsp coriander seeds
1 stick lemongrass, bashed and finely chopped
4 garlic cloves, peeled and roughly chopped
2 tbsp light soy sauce
1½ tsp curry powder
1 tsp pork stock (bouillon) powder, dissolved in 2 tbsp warm water
1 tbsp palm sugar
1 tbsp vegetable oil
1 tbsp oyster sauce
Make diagonal slashes in the pork. Pour the coconut milk over it and leave to marinate for 15–30 minutes. This is to tenderize and fragrance the pork.
In a pestle and mortar, pound the coriander seeds, lemongrass and garlic into a rough paste. Mix in the soy sauce, curry powder, pork stock, palm sugar, vegetable oil and oyster sauce, and stir well to combine.
Heat a grill (broiler) pan or barbecue (outdoor grill, medium coals). Shake off any excess coconut milk and slap the pork on to the grill. Baste the uppermost side with the sauce.
Cook the pork for about 30–40 minutes, until cooked through, turning and basting with the sauce as you go, until it’s rich and golden brown, with some nice charred edges. Make sure you brush the sauce into the cuts in the pork to maximize the flavour.
When it’s cooked, take the pork off the grill and set aside to rest for about 15 minutes. Serve sliced, with Nam Jim Jaew (Roasted Chilli Dipping Sauce, see here) on the side.
I love this method of cooking fish: the banana leaf imparts a particular flavour while retaining all the fish’s natural moisture.
Traditionally, this is cooked on cooling charcoal. I remember buying this several times from a stall in the railway market just outside Pranburi, on the east coast. The stall-holder would tuck the banana leaf parcels into the coals, and spread hot ash over the top to cook both sides of the fish at once.
This method, though, makes things a little easier, so you can cook the fish over medium coals on your barbecue or on a grill pan on your stove-top, or even in the oven. You will also need enough banana leaf to wrap the fish securely. If you can’t find banana leaf, you can use aluminium foil instead, but bear in mind that it won’t taste quite the same.
Serves 4–6 as part of a Thai meal
1 banana leaf, washed (optional)
1 large (or 2 small) sea bass (see tip)
for the rub
4 coriander (cilantro) roots (see here), roughly chopped
a small bunch of coriander (cilantro) leaves, roughly chopped
4 large garlic cloves, peeled and roughly chopped
1 tsp black peppercorns
a large pinch of sea salt
First, wash the banana leaf, and set aside. If using a barbecue (outdoor grill), prepare the coals. Clean the fish thoroughly and cut diagonal slashes into its sides.
In a pestle and mortar, pound together the rub ingredients into a paste. With your hands work the rub into the fish and its slashes, making sure you don’t waste any. Tuck any left over into the fish’s belly cavity.
Soften the banana leaf by heating it over a gas flame or run it under hot water. It will instantly turn a glossy dark green and become malleable. Wrap the fish in the softened banana leaf, securing it with cocktail sticks (toothpicks) or satay sticks, and set aside for at least 10 minutes. If using the water method, make sure you dry the leaf before wrapping the fish.
Cook on the barbecue, turning once, until it is done. Alternatively, you can cook it under the grill (broiler), on a grill pan, or bake it in an oven preheated to 200°C fan/220°C/425°F/gas mark 7. If you’re baking it, you don’t need to worry about turning it. On the grill, you must turn it once, halfway through the cooking time.
Which brings us to the big question: how do you know when it’s done? This depends on the size of your fish. A small, farmed bass will obviously take less time than a big, beautiful, wild bass. My rule is to allow 10 minutes per 2.5 cm/1 inch. Measure the fish at its thickest point as it lies on its side, and calculate from there.
Serve with Nam Jim Nong Da (Nong Da’s Dipping Sauce, see here), or Nam Jim Seafood (Thai Seafood Dipping Sauce, see here).
~ I’ve used sea bass here, but you can substitute any firm-fleshed fish you like. I think mackerel or sea bream work particularly well. ~
No trip to the seaside is complete without a grilled seafood feast. Whole fish, prawns (shrimp), squid, shellfish, goong mongorn (which means ‘dragon shrimp’, but really denotes a massive crayfish); grilled over charcoal; served with nam jim seafood; eaten with gusto. There’s nothing better, and it is justly popular.
Outside any number of markets along the Thai coast, you’ll find the grill guys waiting for you. All you have to do is enter the market, buy the most spankingly fresh seafood of your choice, return to the grill guys and let them cook it. There’s normally a queue of people in front of you, but that’s no hardship. They’ll tell you when it will be ready, so you can slip away for a cold beer while your food awaits its turn on the coals. Then you pick it up and take it home. What could be better?
Of course, outside Thailand, we don’t have that luxury. But you can still eat this way at home. So, what follows are a few tips to make it possible.
1. If you can’t find the freshest seafood for this, don’t do it. Similarly, if you’re not going to grill over charcoal, don’t bother. The whole point of this is the smoky, charred, open barbecue experience. For me, this means it’s a weekend or summer holiday thing.
2. Nam Jim Seafood (Thai Seafood Dipping Sauce, see here) is obligatory. For other accompaniments, I will tend to veer towards either Som Tum Thai (Green Papaya Salad, see here) and sticky rice, or Pad Pak Boong Fai Daeng (Stir-fried Morning Glory, see here) and rice. They’re simple and satisfying, and uncomplicated. I want to give the fish my full attention.
3. When grilling prawns (shrimp), we normally mean tiger prawns (jumbo shrimp) or the larger king tiger prawns. How long they take depends on their size. As a general rule, an average tiger prawn takes about 1–2 minutes each side, and I recommend putting 4–6 onto satay skewers to make turning them easier. King tiger prawns can take as much as 5 minutes each side, but again, size is everything. A timer won’t help you much here. Your eyes will. You will see them change from a raw grey to a cooked, appetizing pink. Note, too, that they will cook faster peeled than in their shells. I prefer the latter as it keeps the juices in. Don’t worry if the shells char. It all adds to the flavour and their aroma. You can also split the big prawns in half, lengthways, which allows you to devein them. If you do this, cook them on the shell side only. Again, you will see when they’re done, probably in about 3 minutes or so, depending on size.
4. Fish should be grilled whole, with a couple of slashes cut into the sides to let the char in. Some people leave the scales on to protect the flesh, others don’t. I prefer not. Rub them with vegetable oil on both sides before they hit the heat. If you want to stuff the cavity with herbs before you cook them, by all means do. Lemongrass, galangal, kaffir lime leaves, all work well.
5. How long you cook for depends on the fish. My rule is to allow 10 minutes per 2.5 cm/1 inch. Measure the fish at its thickest point as it lies on its side, and calculate from there. Turn it once, halfway through the cooking time, just as you would with the Pla Pao (Fish Grilled in Banana Leaf, see here).
6. Prepare shellfish in the usual way, cleaning the beards from mussels, de-gritting clams, discarding any that won’t close at this point. Grill them until their shells open. You will lose some of their juices, but they taste amazing. You can grill oysters, too.
7. Squid, as ever, are tricky on the grill. We want them cooked, but not overcooked. Where Europeans in the Med often grill them gutted but whole, the Thai solution is to open out the tube into one flat piece and to score it lightly on one side. This should allow it to grill fast and roll up on itself.
This is a lovely, savoury custard, with a silky texture, which goes very well with spicy dishes – something to give your tastebuds some respite as part of a larger meal.
The balance of flavours plays an important role, not just in an individual dish, but also in the meal as a whole. And, for me, kai toon delivers a welcome, soothing note to a Thai feast.
Serves 4–6
vegetable oil, for oiling
3 eggs, lightly beaten
225 ml/8 fl oz/1 cup cold chicken or vegetable stock
1 tbsp nam pla (fish sauce)
freshly ground white pepper, to taste
1 tbsp deep-fried garlic (see here)
2 spring onions (scallions), finely chopped
Oil a medium heatproof bowl with a little vegetable oil.
In a separate bowl, thoroughly beat the eggs into the stock to combine. Add the nam pla and the white pepper and beat again.
Put the garlic and the spring onions into the bottom of the oiled bowl. Pour over the egg mixture and steam, covered, for 15–20 minutes until just firm and wobbly. Serve with rice as a part of a larger meal.
Clean, healthy, economic and delicious – think of this as a Thai moules marinières. It’s my perfect solo sofa supper in front of TV.
Serves 1, or 4 as part of a larger Thai meal
1 kg/2 lb 4 oz fresh mussels
1 tbsp oil
4 Thai shallots or 2 regular shallots, peeled and finely chopped
6 garlic cloves, peeled and chopped
1 large red chilli, sliced
2 sticks lemongrass, finely sliced
200 ml/7 fl oz/scant 1 cup water
1 tbsp nam pla (fish sauce)
6 kaffir lime leaves
a good handful of holy basil or Thai sweet basil, to garnish
wedges of lime, to serve
Clean the mussels thoroughly under running water, pulling off any beards they may have. If any mussels are open, give them a firm tap with the back of a knife. If they refuse to close, discard them immediately.
Heat the oil in a large deep saucepan (one with a tight-fitting lid) and sauté the shallots, garlic, chilli and lemongrass for 1 minute. Add the water, nam pla and lime leaves, and bring to the boil.
Add the mussels and bring back to the boil. Put the lid on and give the pot a good shake. Leave on the heat for 3–4 minutes, or until all the mussels are open and cooked (any mussels that remain closed are dead, and should be discarded).
Serve in a bowl, garnished with the basil leaves, surrounded by the delicious cooking liquor, and squeeze the lime over as desired.
This was one of my Mum’s favourite dishes, and one which she used to make frequently on Gozo. Although, as a concession to what was available there, she used to steam the curry in ramekins lined with cabbage leaves in place of banana leaves. When Dad gave me her recipe book after she died, I was thrilled to find her recipe, which I reproduce here.
Makes 8–10
1 banana leaf (optional)
150 g/5½ oz bamboo shoots, chopped
a handful of Thai basil
500 g/1 lb 2 oz white fish
2 tbsp red curry paste
6 tbsp ground peanuts (optional)
8 lime leaves, finely sliced
3 eggs
1–2 tbsp nam pla (fish sauce)
90 ml/3 fl oz/⅓ cup coconut cream, as cold as possible, plus 2 tbsp to garnish
1 large red chilli, finely sliced, to garnish
First, make the banana leaf cups: Soften the banana leaf by passing it over the gas hob (burner) or under very hot running water. You will see it change colour and become malleable as you go.
Cut out 2 banana leaf circles per cup, each with a diameter of 10–12½ cm/4–5 inches. Place the 2 circles on top of each other, dull sides facing inwards. Make a small tuck on the edge of each circle and staple it in place. Repeat 3 times at each point of each circle’s compass, and voila! You have cups!
Alternatively, use ramekins – it’s easier.
Place 1 heaped tablespoon of bamboo shoots in the bottom of each cup/ramekin, and a few basil leaves in each.
Dice about a third of the fish into small cubes and set aside. Put the remaining fish into a food processor with the curry paste, peanuts (if using), half of the lime leaves, the eggs, nam pla and coconut cream and blitz until you get a thick custard. Remove to a clean bowl and stir through the cubed fish and the remaining lime leaves.
Put the mixture in the cups/ramekins and steam for about 15–20 minutes until it has risen slightly and is cooked – test after 10 minutes. Remove from the steamer, garnish with a drizzle of coconut cream and the sliced chillies, and serve.
~ David Thompson gave me a great tip for this recipe when I moaned that I was finding condensation on all my custards. His hint was to remove the steamer lid slowly, and at an acute angle – stopping the water dripping from the underside of the lid on to the custards when going in for a test prod. Also, every time you remove the lid, wipe the underside thoroughly before replacing it. Cheers DT. ~
This recipe comes from my friend Khun Mali at the Puong Thong restaurant in Chiang Mai (for more about Mali, and how to find her restaurant, see here). There she makes it with snakehead fish in a massive Chinese steamer. I have replicated the process with sea bass, steaming it in the oven in a banana-leaf version of en papillote. I have also made it a meal for two using a couple of salmon fillets, weighing about 140 g/5 oz each (which will fit in my stove-top steamer), and dressing them with half the amount of sauce.
Serves 4
for the sauce
3 tbsp green Thai bird’s eye chillies
3 tbsp garlic cloves, peeled
7 tbsp lime juice
7 tbsp nam pla (fish sauce)
2 tbsp caster (superfine) sugar
for the fish
1 x 1.4-kg/3 lb 2-oz whole sea bass, gutted through the gills (ask your fishmonger)
a good pinch of sea salt
1 stick lemongrass, bashed
1 coriander (cilantro) root (see here), bashed
1 banana leaf
First, make the sauce. Blitz the chillies and garlic together in a blender until smooth.
In a bowl, stir together the lime juice, nam pla and sugar, until the sugar has completely dissolved. Stir in the garlic and chilli mixture, and set aside.
Preheat the oven to 170°C fan/190°C/375°F/gas mark 5.
Season the cavity of the sea bass with salt and stuff with the lemongrass and coriander root. Wrap the fish first in the banana leaf, then loosely with aluminium foil, sealing it tightly while making sure that the fish has room to steam.
Bake in the hot oven for 25 minutes. Turn out on to a plate, peel back the skin and dress with the garlic-chilli sauce.
With its soy sauce and pickled plums, its Chinese roots are obvious, and it’s very popular in the south of Thailand, where you meet many Thai-Chinese descendants of the Chinese traders who settled there so long ago.
I have adapted this recipe from a version I ate at the Kan Eng restaurant on Hat Yai’s Kimpradit Road. If you ever find yourself passing, please go and try and it for yourself – it’s one of the best I’ve ever had.
Note that some versions require shiitake mushrooms and some minced (ground) pork or pork fat. I prefer to keep it simple.
Serves 4
1 whole fish, about 400 g/14 oz (I favour pomfret or butterfish, but tilapia and sea bass work very well)
3 pickled plums, plus 1 tbsp of their liquid
2 tbsp light soy sauce
2 tbsp oyster sauce
1½ tsp yellow bean sauce (optional)
1 tsp sesame oil
1 tsp caster (superfine) sugar
1 large red chilli, finely sliced
2.5-cm/1-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and finely sliced
a handful of Chinese celery leaves
1–2 spring onions (scallions), finely sliced diagonally
Wash and dry the fish, then cut a couple of slashes in each side, down to the bone. Set aside.
In a bowl, mix together the plums, their liquid, the soy sauce, oyster sauce, yellow bean sauce (if using), sesame oil, sugar and 2 tbsp water into a sauce, breaking down the plums a little with the back of your spoon as you go. Keep stirring until the sugar has dissolved.
Now, you can either put the fish on a plate that will fit into a steamer, or place it in a roasting tray, to be covered with aluminium foil. Pour the sauce over the fish, cover, then steam or bake in an oven preheated to 180°C fan/200°C/400°F/gas mark 6 for about 20 minutes, depending on the size of your fish.
About 5 minutes before the fish is cooked, uncover, add the chilli, ginger, celery leaves and spring onions (scallions). Cover again, and let it finish steaming.
Once it’s cooked, remove the fish carefully to a serving platter, and pour over the juices.
~ If you’re steaming your fish on a plate, the bottom of the fish may cook a little quicker than the top, so make sure you test it before serving. ~
My Godmother, Shirley, lived for many years in an apartment block off Soi Thonglor in Bangkok. She was a terrific Thai cook and a barrel of laughs. She also had a budgie that perched on her head.
I remember this dish fondly as she would always make it for me on our monthly video nights (yes, dear reader, this was in the days before Netflix), accompanied by large and potent gins and tonic and a scary film.
It’s the ginger-i-ness that makes this dish sing.
Serves 4
4 tbsp light soy sauce
1 tbsp caster (superfine) sugar
500 g/1 lb 2 oz pork spare ribs (if you can get your butcher to chop them into 3 or 4 pieces each, all the better)
50 g/1¾ oz fresh ginger, peeled and slivered
5 garlic cloves, peeled and finely sliced
1½ tsp white peppercorns, roughly ground
In a small bowl, stir the soy sauce and sugar together until the sugar has dissolved.
Put the ribs into a roasting pan and pour the soy and sugar mixture over the top. Add the ginger and garlic, and the ground white pepper. Rub the marinade in with your hands until everything is covered, and leave to marinate for about 30 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 160°C fan/180°C/350°F/gas mark 4.
Cover the roasting pan with aluminium foil and bake the ribs for 45 minutes, then remove the foil, turn the ribs and put them back in the oven for another 30 minutes. Plate and serve.
