Chickens and ducks, like pigs, are part of daily life in villages and small towns all through Southeast Asia. They wander at will, foraging across clean-swept courtyards and along well-worn paths. In rural areas, they are especially valued as egg layers, and, consequently, dishes featuring chicken or duck (such as Duck in Green Curry Paste, page 211) are something of a luxury outside cities and towns. And because most of the birds are truly free-range, they have wonderful flavor (so too, of course, do their eggs).
Here in North America, we suggest that you seek out organic or free-range birds; they’re worth the extra trouble and expense. As people do in Laos, you can make the most of a good-tasting chicken by combining it with potatoes and coconut milk to make a simmered dish of mild Chicken and Potato Curry (page 203). Or, in the summer, boil a whole chicken, use the broth for soup, and shred the meat to make Vietnamese Chicken Salad with Rau Ram (page 197), bright with lime juice and aromatic with fresh herbs, ideal for a warm summer evening.
Lao and Thai people have a brilliant way with grilled chicken. All along the Mekong valley, vendors sell it in markets and at roadside stands, with a hot-sweet dipping sauce and plenty of sticky rice. This is one of our favorite treats, and one that’s very easy to make at home, on the grill or under the broiler (see Grilled Chicken with Hot and Sweet Dipping Sauce, page 199). Prepare it for guests, whatever the time of year.
A small boy holds a chicken in Luang Prabang.
On our first trip to northeast Thailand, long ago, we’d sit on a wooden balcony overlooking the Mekong in Chiang Khan and watch the sun set over the river.
Laab is a category of dishes made from minced pork, beef, chicken, or fish. What makes laab distinctive is the way the meat is prepared: It is hand chopped, using one or two cleavers and chopping continuously, to a coarse minced texture. We helped make a laab from water buffalo meat (sin khouai) when we were staying in Luang Prabang, but there the texture we needed was a smooth paste, so it took a lot of chopping and then pounding in a mortar. Here it’s all done in about five minutes. The effect of using the cleaver in this way is that the meat resembles ground meat, but it is much more irregular in texture, and a lot more interesting in the dish.
The minced chicken is quickly poached in a little boiling water before being dressed with fresh herbs, dried chiles, and a lime juice and fish sauce dressing. Vietnamese coriander is wonderful with chicken, but if you don’t have any available, substitute regular coriander or mint leaves, or a mixture.
1 pound boneless skinless chicken breasts and/or thighs, rinsed, or substitute lean ground chicken
¼ cup thinly sliced shallots, slices separated into rings
1 or 2 Thai dried red chiles, stemmed and chopped
¼ cup fresh lime juice
3 tablespoons Thai fish sauce
½ teaspoon sugar
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup packed Vietnamese coriander (rau ram) leaves, or substitute mint leaves or regular coriander leaves, coarsely torn, plus small sprigs for garnish
3 tablespoons Aromatic Roasted Rice Powder (page 309) or Roasted Rice Powder (page 308)
ACCOMPANIMENTS
Steamed Vegetable Plate (page 69) or wedges of raw Savoy cabbage
A handful of tender young green beans or yard-long beans
3 or 4 scallions, trimmed
If using chicken parts, with a cleaver, slice the chicken, then mince it until it resembles the consistency of ground beef.
In a small saucepan, bring 2½ cups water to a boil. Toss in the chicken and cook until all the meat has changed color, about 2 minutes. Drain the chicken, and save the stock for another purpose if desired.
In a medium bowl, mix the chicken with the shallots, chiles, lime juice, fish sauce, sugar, black pepper, herbs, and roasted rice powder. Mound on a plate and garnish with fresh herb sprigs. Put out a platter of the accompaniments and serve with plenty of sticky rice.
SERVES 4 as part of a rice meal
This fresh-tasting chicken salad is a favorite of ours, both at home and in Vietnamese restaurants. We first ate it in Hue, at a small family-run restaurant many years ago. It was our first taste of Vietnamese coriander, known in Vietnamese as rau ram and in Thai as pakchi wietnam. It doesn’t resemble regular coriander at all except that it is a strong distinctive-tasting herb, but “Vietnamese coriander” is what it translates into in Thai. It’s a member of the Polygonum family.
We grow Vietnamese coriander year-round; as long as it’s well watered, it thrives in our garden in the summer and then comes inside for the winter. We love it. It has soft, smooth narrow pointed leaves and a strong distinctive taste. Luckily, in the last few years it has become widely available in Vietnamese groceries. If you can’t find Vietnamese coriander, substitute Asian basil or fresh mint.
The salad is dressed with a tangy, mildly hot, mildly sweet lime juice and fish sauce dressing.
2 pounds chicken legs and/or breasts, rinsed (see Note)
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
3 tablespoons Thai or Vietnamese fish sauce
2 tablespoons rice or cider vinegar
1 teaspoon sugar, or to taste
2 to 3 bird or serrano chiles, minced
2 cloves garlic, or more to taste, minced
3 shallots, thinly sliced
1 cup bean sprouts, rinsed
2 cups shredded napa cabbage, or substitute finely shredded Savoy cabbage
⅔ cup Vietnamese coriander leaves (rau ram, see Headnote), coarsely torn, or substitute Asian basil or sweet basil leaves, torn, or ½ cup finely chopped mint leaves plus extra whole leaves for garnish
Freshly ground black or white pepper
Place a heavy pot with about 4 cups water in it on the stove to boil. When simmering, add the chicken and poach until the juices run clear when the flesh is pierced with a skewer, 25 to 30 minutes. Remove the chicken from the cooking liquid and let cool; reserve the broth for another purpose. (The chicken can be cooked ahead, and stored, once cooled to room temperature, in a well-sealed container in the refrigerator, for up to 48 hours. Before proceeding, bring back to room temperature.)
Remove and discard the chicken skin, lift the meat off the bones, and pull into shreds. There should be about 2 cups of meat.
In a small bowl, stir together the lime juice, fish sauce, vinegar, sugar, chiles, and garlic. Separate the shallot slices into rings, then add to the dressing. Let stand for 30 minutes, if you have time.
Blanch the bean sprouts in boiling water (or the reserved chicken broth) for about 30 seconds, then refresh with cold water and drain thoroughly. In a large bowl, combine the chicken, bean sprouts, cabbage, and herbs. Pour the dressing over and toss gently to blend well.
Mound the salad decoratively on a plate. Grind pepper over if you wish, and garnish with herb leaves.
SERVES 4 with rice or noodles
NOTE: If you already have 2 cups or more of cooked chicken, you can use it. Just shred it into bite-size pieces, then mix up the dressing and assemble the salad as directed. This salad is traditionally served with deep-fried shrimp chips. We like it simply with rice or noodles.
GRILLED CHICKEN WITH HOT AND SWEET DIPPING SAUCE
In markets all over northeast Thailand, each day vendors set up small charcoal grills for cooking gai yang, the region’s most famous dish. The pieces of chicken are large, butterflied whole breasts and legs, that are held flat over the grill pinched in holders of split bamboo. As the chicken goes on the grill, there’s a sizzle and puffs of smoke. Soon the smell of grilling chicken, with the traditional Thai-Lao marinade of coriander root, black pepper, and garlic, becomes mouthwateringly irresistible. We find ourselves heading for the grill, ordering a piece or two of chicken and of course a bag of sticky rice to go with it. The dipping sauce comes in a little plastic bag, bright orange with chile and sticky with cooked sugar. Heaven.
Back at home, we cut our chicken into smaller pieces. It makes grilling easier and gives more surface for the marinade to cling to.
MARINADE
2 tablespoons Pepper–Coriander Root Flavor Paste (page 184)
2 to 3 tablespoons Thai fish sauce
3 pounds chicken breasts or breasts and legs, chopped into 10 to 12 pieces (see Note)
ACCOMPANIMENT
Hot and Sweet Dipping Sauce (recipe follows)
Place the coriander root paste in a large bowl and stir in the fish sauce. Place the chicken pieces in the marinade and turn to coat well. Let stand, covered, at room temperature for about 1 hour or in the refrigerator for as long as 3 hours.
Heat a grill or preheat the broiler. If using a grill, place the chicken pieces 4 to 5 inches from the flame, bone side down, and grill until the bottom side is starting to brown, about 6 to 8 minutes. Then, turn over and cook until golden brown on the other side and the juices run clear when the meat is pierced.
If using a broiler, put the chicken pieces in a lightly oiled broiling pan, bone side up, place 4 to 6 inches from the broiler element, and cook for 8 to 10 minutes, or until the chicken is starting to brown. Turn the pieces over and broil for another 8 minutes, or until the juices run clear.
Transfer the chicken pieces to a platter and serve with the dipping sauce and plenty of sticky rice.
SERVES 6 as part of a rice meal
NOTE: You will need a cleaver to chop the chicken into smaller pieces: A whole 2-pound chicken breast should be chopped in half, then each half chopped into 4 pieces; legs are chopped into drumstick and thigh.
The classic dipping sauce for grilled chicken, this also makes a simple condiment for sticky rice or grilled pork, lamb, or fish. Serve it in individual condiment bowls so guests can dip their chicken and their sticky rice into it as they eat.
½ cup rice or cider vinegar
½ cup sugar
1 to 2 cloves garlic, finely minced
¼ teaspoon salt
1½ teaspoons dried red pepper flakes
Place the vinegar in a small nonreactive saucepan and heat to a boil. Add the sugar, stirring until it has completely dissolved, then lower the heat to medium-low and let simmer for 5 minutes.
Meanwhile, using a mortar and pestle or a bowl and the back of a spoon, pound or mash the garlic and salt to a smooth paste. Stir in the pepper flakes and blend well. Remove the vinegar mixture from the heat and stir in the garlic paste. Let cool to room temperature. Store sealed in a glass jar in the refrigerator for up to 2 days.
MAKES about ½ cup sauce
Recently we went back to Sangkhom, a small northeastern Thai village on the Mekong where we had spent several pleasurable weeks ten years earlier. When we first arrived, we were quite disoriented. The bungalows we had stayed in before were no longer there, having been washed away by a flooding Mekong. But after a little searching, we found a group of new bungalows not far away, built in the same simple style, each with a porch looking out over the river.
The new bungalows are owned by Yigal and Nupiit. “Food is available in the village,” Yigal explained as we checked in, “or, if you tell us ahead of time, you can eat with us. Nupiit is a great cook; she has even cooked for the Rolling Stones.”
As it happened, we never learned more about the Rolling Stones, but Yigal was right: Nupiit is a great cook. Born in Sangkhom and raised there and in southern Laos, where her father worked, she cooks in a northeastern Thai-Lao way, and is particularly knowledgeable about wild edible plants. Yigal, born in Israel and raised in New York City, met Nupiit on a trip to Thailand many years ago, and they have been together ever since. Half the year they live on the big island in Hawaii, and half the year in Sangkhom. They live well but modestly, charging only two to three dollars a night for a bungalow, and about the same for a meal. Yigal has a satellite dish, and at night he loves to point it around at different places in the sky and watch Russian television, Polish, Burmese. It’s fun, watching Polish television sitting in a little village in Thailand, listening to the Mekong and feeling its breeze.
But it’s not nearly as much fun as eating Nupiit’s cooking and learning kitchen ways from her. “This is the way we eat sticky rice,” she said to Dom and Tashi the very first lunch we ate together. “You take a good amount of rice in your hand, and then with your other hand, tear off a much smaller piece from the big piece, like this.” With her little bite-sized piece of rice she then reached for a bit of fried beef jerky. On the table there were at least ten different dishes, far more food than six of us would finish. As in Laos, there was a plate of steamed vegetables: chunks of pumpkin, wedges of cabbage, long beans. There was an herb plate with fresh coriander, green onion, Chinese celery. And then there was all the hot stuff: a tom yum hot enough to singe our lips; a salsa (jaew), rich-tasting with grilled chiles and shallots; a laab, chile-hot and fragrant with roasted rice powder; a plain-looking salt-grilled fish from which we’d pick small chunks of tender meat.… Some of the tastes were bitter and wild, others easy and wonderfully familiar. It was a beautiful table of food, green, earthy, and abundant.
We’d planned to spend a few nights in Sangkhom, but it was a good two and a half weeks later when we finally rolled out of town, very sad to be leaving, thanks to Nupiit and Yigal.
Up a small stream valley near the Mekong in Sangkhom, a small bungalow and footbridge emerge from the morning mist.
Holy basil and hot chiles combine to make a class of quickly stir-fried spicy Thai dishes, using chicken, beef, or seafood. If you want a milder dish, reduce the quantity of chiles. Holy basil has little flavor until it is cooked, when it becomes intense and wonderful. If using Asian or sweet basil leaves, add them at the last minute.
5 cloves garlic
2 to 3 serrano or bird chiles, stemmed
3 tablespoons peanut or vegetable oil
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts and/or thighs, rinsed, thoroughly dried, and minced or chopped into bite-sized pieces
2 red cayenne chiles, cut lengthwise into strips (optional)
1 tablespoon Thai fish sauce
1 teaspoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon sugar
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 cup holy basil leaves, or substitute Asian basil or sweet basil leaves (see Headnote)
Place the garlic and whole chiles in a mortar and pound to a paste. Or finely mince them.
Place a large wok over high heat. When it is hot, add the oil and swirl gently to coat the pan. Toss in the garlic and chiles and stir-fry for 30 seconds, or until the garlic is just golden. Add the chicken and stir-fry for 3 to 4 minutes, or until the chicken has turned white throughout, using your spatula to separate any clumps and to press the meat against the hot wok. Add the chiles, if using, the fish sauce, soy sauce, sugar, and pepper and stir-fry briefly. Add the holy basil, if using, and stir-fry until wilted, about 1½ minutes, then turn out onto a large plate or shallow serving dish. If using Asian or sweet basil, after adding the herbs, just give the dish one good stir, then turn it out onto the platter. Serve immediately.
SERVES 4 with rice and one or more other dishes
It’s a strange sight the first time you see it: a turkey strolling unconcernedly along a path near a small Lao village. “What’s a turkey doing here, in this tropical place?” was our first reaction. But then we realized that turkeys are raised in many households in Laos. We don’t know who introduced them, or when. But now they’re a standard domestic fowl, used to make curries and soups, just like chickens.
Leftover turkey from a North American–style roasted Thanksgiving bird lends itself beautifully to this good-tasting Lao salad, fresh with mint and lime juice, a little chile-hot with bird chile—far from the usual turkey leftovers!
8 to 10 ounces cooked light and dark turkey meat, roughly cut into ½-inch chunks (about 2 cups packed) (see Note)
2 tablespoons thinly sliced shallots, separated into rings
½ cup loosely packed coarsely torn coriander leaves
½ cup loosely packed coarsely chopped mint leaves
1 teaspoon minced bird chile, or more to taste
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons Thai fish sauce, or to taste
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 tablespoon Roasted Rice Powder (page 308) or Aromatic Roasted Rice Powder (page 309), or more to taste (optional)
Combine the meat and shallots in a shallow bowl. Add the coriander and mint leaves and mix well.
In a small bowl, combine all the remaining ingredients except the rice powder and stir to mix well. Pour over the salad and toss to distribute the dressing thoroughly. Just before serving, sprinkle on the rice powder, if using.
SERVES 4 as part of a rice meal, with a soup or curry
NOTE: You could, of course, substitute leftover chicken for the turkey.
This dish from Laos is a kind of mild curry, with plenty of fragrant broth. The potatoes are an unexpected pleasure in the midst of the tender chicken and the coconut milk–based sauce. Use a good firm boiling potato such as Yukon Gold that will hold its shape during long simmering.
The recipe needs a little attention for 15 to 20 minutes, then the chicken can be left to simmer until done. You can also make the whole dish ahead and then reheat it just before serving, giving the flavors even more time to blend. If you prepare the dish more than 2 hours ahead, let cool, then refrigerate covered until ready to reheat and serve. Like many simmered dishes, this curry makes great leftovers.
2½ pounds chicken legs and breasts or 1½ pounds boneless breasts and legs, rinsed
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
8 medium Yukon Gold or other boiling potatoes (about 2 pounds), peeled
2 cups water
3 Thai dried red chiles, soaked in warm water until softened
2 tablespoons minced garlic
5 small shallots, coarsely chopped
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 tablespoons Thai fish sauce
2 cups canned or fresh coconut milk (see page 315), ½ cup of the thickest milk set aside
6 fresh or frozen wild lime leaves
½ cup packed chopped scallion greens (optional)
1 cup loosely packed coriander leaves
If using chicken on the bone, use a cleaver to cut each leg into 2 pieces and whole breasts into 6 to 8 pieces (discard any bone splinters). If using boneless chicken, cut into large pieces about 1 by 2 inches.
Place the chicken in a medium bowl, sprinkle on 1 teaspoon each salt and pepper, and toss to coat. Set aside, covered, while you prepare the potatoes and the spice paste.
Chop the potatoes into approximately 1- to 1½-inch cubes. Place in a pot with 2 cups water, bring to a boil, and cook for 10 minutes. Drain, reserving 1½ cups of the water. Set the potatoes aside.
To prepare the spice paste, reserve the chile soaking water and coarsely chop the chiles, discarding the tough stem ends. Place in a mortar with a pinch of salt and pound briefly, then add the chopped garlic and shallots and pound all to a coarse paste. Alternatively, combine the chiles, salt, garlic, and shallots in a blender or food processor and process to a paste; you may need to add a little of the chile soaking water. Set aside the chile paste in a small bowl.
Heat a wide heavy pot or a large wok over high heat. Add the oil and swirl to coat the pan. Add the spice paste and stir-fry briefly, until starting to brown. Add the chicken and cook, turning frequently to prevent sticking, for several minutes. Add the fish sauce and continue to cook until the chicken is browned on all sides, about 10 minutes in all, or slightly less for boneless chicken.
In a medium bowl, stir together the 1½ cups thinner coconut milk and the reserved potato water. Add to the chicken, together with the potatoes, and bring to a vigorous boil, then lower the heat, cover, and simmer until the chicken is very tender, about 30 minutes.
Add the lime leaves and the ½ remaining cup thicker coconut milk, bring to a boil, and simmer until the cream starts to separate, about 8 minutes. Taste for salt and adjust if necessary. Stir in the scallion greens if you wish.
Transfer to a large shallow bowl. Garnish with the chopped coriander and a generous grinding of black pepper. Serve with plenty of plain jasmine rice.
SERVES 6 generously, with rice
NOTE: To reheat leftovers, place the curry in a heavy pot, stir in a little warm water to help thin and melt the coconut milk, and reheat gently.
An older woman gardening in northeast Thailand pauses from her labors.
KHMER CHICKEN SAMLA’ WITH COCONUT MILK
Lemongrass features so prominently in Khmer cooking that in local produce markets it is impossible to miss the lemongrass vendors. They sit there with huge piles of finely slivered lemongrass in front of them, always slivering more while at the same time measuring out lemongrass by the bag to shoppers. They’re a beautiful sight, the piles of freshly slivered lemongrass, and fragrant as well.
Khmer samla’s are somewhere between soup and stew, ideal for eating with rice (see Khmer Fish Stew with Lemongrass, page 181). The curry paste used (with lots of lemongrass) is traditionally made by pounding all the ingredients in a stone mortar long and hard until they make a paste; using a food processor or blender, you can reduce them quickly and easily to a fine chopped texture that, while not as smooth as a pounded paste, is very acceptable.
CURRY PASTE
6 to 10 stalks lemongrass
2 small wedges wild lime, mostly peel, or substitute chunks of regular lime, minced (about 1 teaspoon)
½ teaspoon minced fresh turmeric or ground turmeric
Several pinches of salt
3 tablespoons minced galangal
10 to 12 tiny mauve Asian shallots, coarsely chopped, or substitute 4 to 5 regular shallots, coarsely chopped (about 1 cup)
10 medium to large cloves garlic, coarsely chopped
4 Thai dried red chiles, soaked in warm water until softened
2 tablespoons shrimp paste
2 whole chicken legs (1½ to 2 pounds), rinsed
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
3 cups coconut milk, canned or fresh (see page 315), divided into 1½ cups thinner milk and 1½ cups thicker milk
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon sugar
Cut the tough root ends and dry upper stalks off the lemongrass; peel off the tough outer layers and discard. Very thinly slice the remaining 2 to 3 inches of each stalk. You should have 1¼ cups (the number of stalks you need will vary greatly depending on their size and freshness).
If using a large mortar with a pestle, place the lime and turmeric in the mortar with a pinch of salt and pound to a paste. Add the galangal and pound well. Add about one third of the lemongrass and pulverize to a smooth texture. Gradually add more lemongrass, continuing to pound; empty out some or all of the mixture if your mortar is getting full. Once the lemongrass is broken down, add the shallots and then the garlic, along with another pinch of salt, as you continue pounding. Once you have a smooth, even paste, transfer to a medium bowl and set aside.
If using a food processor or blender, place the lemongrass in the processor or blender and process until very finely chopped. Add the lime, turmeric, a pinch of salt, and the galangal and process until finely chopped. Add the shallots and garlic and another pinch of salt and process to a fine paste. Transfer to a bowl and set aside.
Reserve the chile-soaking water and chop any tough stem ends off the soaked chiles and discard. Cut the chiles open and remove and discard the seeds (or set aside for another purpose). Mince the chiles, then place in a mortar or a blender or processor, with a pinch of salt, and pound or process to a coarse paste. If using a blender or processor, add a little chile-soaking water if necessary to help create a paste, and use a spatula to push the mixture back down the sides to the blade. Add to lemongrass paste, stir to mix well, and set aside.
Spread the shrimp paste on a piece of aluminum foil, fold the foil over to seal, and flatten into a thin package. Place in a hot skillet over medium-high heat for 3 to 4 minutes. Turn over and cook for another 3 to 4 minutes, pressing the package flat against the skillet occasionally with a spatula. Remove from the skillet, unfold the foil, and crumble the toasted shrimp paste into the curry paste, stirring thoroughly to blend it in. Set the curry paste aside.
If you wish, remove the skin and any excess fat from the chicken and discard. Use a heavy cleaver to cut the drumsticks and thighs apart, then halve each drumstick and cut each thigh into 3 pieces.
Heat a large heavy pot over medium-high heat. Add the oil and when it is hot, stir in the curry paste. Cook, stirring, until smooth and aromatic. Add the chicken pieces and stir to turn and coat. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 7 to 10 minutes, until starting to change color. Add the 1½ cups thinner coconut milk, the salt, and the sugar and bring to a boil. Boil gently for 10 minutes. Add about half the thicker coconut milk, bring back to a boil, and simmer, half-covered, for 20 minutes. Skim off any scum, then add the remaining coconut milk and simmer for another 10 to 15 minutes, until the chicken is very tender. Serve hot, giving each person 2 pieces of chicken and lots of sauce.
SERVES 5 as part of a rice meal
NOTE: If you wish, you can include eggplant in this curry. Use round green or white Thai eggplants, halved or quartered, or Asian eggplants (see Glossary), unpeeled, cut into rough 1-inch chunks. Add the eggplant about 10 minutes after you add the first coconut milk.
At first glance, the town of Sri Chiang Mai looks a lot like any other small Thai highway town. Cars, big trucks, and big buses zoom through town in a blink of the eye, pausing only if by chance someone needs a bite to eat, or if it’s time to refill the gas tank. The highway cuts a wide swath through the town, and on either side there are shops and shop houses, along with several gas stations, a police hut, and a bus stop.
But if you stop in town, and turn down a side street, Sri Chiang Mai (like most small highway towns) has grace and personality, small lanes covered in bougainvillea, fruit trees in people’s front yards. There is a schoolyard of ample proportions, a quiet local hospital, a beautiful outdoor produce market. Sri Chiang Mai is situated on the Mekong, and all along the river there is a wide walkway (newly built) where people stroll and food vendors gather in the late afternoon and evening. Across the river is Laos, Vientiane, in fact, and it’s fun to watch the action on the river as you eat a piece of grilled chicken and a little bag of sticky rice.
But while Sri Chiang Mai looks and feels much like any other pleasant northeast Thai town, it is in another way a unique place. In the 1950s, when the Vietnamese were fighting for independence against the French, a group of Vietnamese came as refugees to Thailand and ended up in Sri Chiang Mai. They were allowed to stay, though they were not allowed to go anywhere outside a thirty-five-kilometer radius of the town. Now, almost fifty years later, the Vietnamese community still exists, though we’re told the thirty-five-kilometer restriction has ended.
So if you’re wandering through the market and the food seems a little bit different, it is. It’s Vietnamese. And it has fused with Thai. It’s great.
In Thai villages, monks leave their monastery to make their regular morning alms round at dawn. Some monks, rather than staying in a monastery, travel on foot from place to place, carrying all their possessions in a single shoulder bag; at dawn they, too, make their alms round in whatever village they find themselves in.
In warm climates, there’s a premium on freshness: Both chickens and fish are often sold live.
The work of watering and weeding the riverbank vegetable gardens in Sangkhom, as elsewhere in northeast Thailand and in Laos, seems mostly to fall to the women in the family.
We confess to sometimes taking shortcuts with culinary traditions, and this curry is a good example of a modern “under thirty minutes” version of a traditional dish. The dilemma of an unexpected guest or a last-minute panic about what to make for supper is easily and gracefully resolved if you have canned coconut milk, a supply of homemade or store-bought curry paste, and some chicken in the refrigerator or freezer. If you have a supply of frozen lime leaves and some Asian or sweet basil around, so much the better.
Serve with jasmine rice, a simple stir-fried or parboiled vegetable dish such as Yunnan Greens (page 151) or Simple Dali Cauliflower (page 158), and a small plate of sliced cucumbers or Pickled Cabbage, Thai Style (page 311 or store-bought).
5 cups canned or fresh coconut milk (see page 315), divided into 1 cup thicker milk and 4 cups thinner milk
3 tablespoons Red Curry Paste (recipe follows, or store-bought)
1 pound boneless skinless chicken breasts or thighs (or a mixture), rinsed and cut into ¼-inch slices
2 tablespoons Thai fish sauce
4 fresh or frozen wild lime leaves, torn into pieces
2 red chiles (cayenne or serrano, or substitute ½ red bell pepper), cut into long thin strips (optional)
½ cup Asian basil or sweet basil leaves
Heat a wok or heavy-bottomed large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add ½ cup of the thicker coconut milk. When it is bubbling, add the curry paste and cook, stirring, for 2 minutes, then add remaining ½ cup thicker milk and cook for 5 to 8 minutes, until the oil begins to separate.
Add the chicken pieces, stir well to coat with the flavored oil, and cook over high heat for about 4 minutes, until the chicken has changed color and become somewhat firmer. Add the remaining 4 cups coconut milk and bring to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer for 5 to 10 minutes.
Stir in the fish sauce and lime leaves. Reduce the heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Just before serving, stir in the chile or bell pepper strips, if using, and the basil.
SERVES 4 to 6 as part of a rice meal
NOTE: If you wish to include a vegetable in the curry, the classic is eggplant. Cut round Thai eggplant in half or into quarters, or Asian eggplant into rough ¾-inch chunks, and add once all the coconut milk has come to a boil. Cook for another 5 to 10 minutes.
You can buy good red curry paste at the market or by mail-order, but, as with most things, homemade has an especially good flavor and aroma. We like to use a little of it as a flavoring in soup or to flavor the oil when we fry rice or stir-fry vegetables.
Red curry paste gets its heat from dried Thai red chiles; it has an aromatic citrusy flavor from galangal, lemongrass, and lime zest. The paste keeps well in the refrigerator.
1½ cups (about 1½ ounces) Thai dried red chiles
1½ tablespoons coriander seeds
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
⅛ teaspoon black peppercorns
2 stalks lemongrass, trimmed and minced
1 tablespoon coarsely chopped coriander roots
¼ cup coarsely chopped galangal
1 teaspoon minced wild lime zest, or substitute regular lime zest
¼ cup coarsely chopped garlic
¼ cup coarsely chopped shallots
1 teaspoon salt
1½ teaspoons shrimp paste
Break the stems off the chiles and discard, together with seeds. Break the chiles into pieces, place in a bowl, and cover with hot water. Place a small lid on to keep them submerged. Let soak for 20 to 30 minutes, or longer if more convenient.
Meanwhile, heat a small heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Add the coriander seeds and dry-roast, occasionally shaking the pan or stirring, until aromatic and beginning to change color, about 3 minutes. Transfer to mortar or a bowl and repeat with the cumin seeds, for about 1 minute. Repeat with peppercorns, roasting just long enough to heat them well, about 1 minute. Use a pestle or spice grinder to pound or grind the spices together to a powder; set aside.
If using a large mortar with a pestle, place the ground spices in the mortar, add the lemongrass, coriander roots, and galangal and pound thoroughly until reduced to a paste. Add the lime zest and pound to blend. Add the garlic, shallots, and salt and pound and mash to a smooth paste. Transfer to a bowl and set aside.
Drain the chiles, place in the mortar, and pound to a paste. (This will take a few minutes.) When the chiles are fairly smooth, add the shrimp paste and pound together. Add the reserved spice paste and pound together.
If using a blender, chop the coriander roots, galangal, garlic, and shallots fairly fine and, with the blades whirling, add to the blender. Add the reserved ground spices, the lemongrass, lime zest, salt, and shrimp paste and continue to blend until you have a paste. You may need to stop and scrape down the sides of the blender with a spatula; add a little water if the mixture seems very dry, then blend until fairly smooth. Drain the chiles, reserving the soaking water. Add the chiles to the blender with a little of the soaking water and blend to a paste, adding a little extra soaking water if necessary.
Store in a well-sealed glass container in the refrigerator. The paste keeps for 2 to 3 months (with a slight loss of intensity over time).
MAKES about 1¼ cups thick paste
Duck is a treat, and so is green curry; they make a great combination in this Thai classic. The green curry paste can be freshly made for the occasion, retrieved from the stash in your refrigerator, or store-bought.
Once the curry paste is made and the duck cut up, the dish takes about 45 minutes of cooking, most of that easy simmering. You can also begin the dish a day ahead, as described below, then finish cooking and flavoring it just before serving.
If you don’t have wild lime leaves, you can do without, but you should have the basil leaves. Both stay a beautiful bright green atop the curry. The dish is quite chile-hot. Serve with plenty of rice, or fresh rice noodles, and some fresh crisp vegetables for contrasting cool texture.
One 3- to 3 ½-pound duck
3 to 3½ cups canned or fresh coconut milk (see page 315), ¼ cup of the thickest milk set aside
1 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg (optional)
4 to 5 tablespoons Green Curry Paste (recipe follows, or store-bought; see Notes)
2 tablespoons Thai fish sauce
8 to 10 round Thai eggplants, stems removed and halved lengthwise, or substitute 1½ cups coarsely chopped (1-inch chunks) Asian eggplant
8 to 10 fresh or frozen wild lime leaves (optional)
½ teaspoon salt, or to taste
½ to 1 cup sliced (½-inch-wide slices) mild to medium-hot green and red chiles (optional; see Notes)
About 25 Asian or sweet basil leaves
Use a cleaver to cut the duck into pieces, leaving the meat on the bone. Cut the legs crosswise in two; otherwise, generally try to end up with pieces not more than 2 inches long. Trim off all the fat and fatty skin (and reserve for another purpose).
Place a heavy 6-quart or larger pot over medium heat. Add the ¼ cup thick coconut milk and stir as it heats and melts, then cook for 5 minutes over medium-high heat, or until the oil starts to separate. If using nutmeg, stir it into the curry paste. Add the paste to the cooking coconut cream, together with 1 tablespoon of the fish sauce. Stir to blend well and continue to cook for about 5 minutes, stirring frequently. The paste will become very aromatic.
Add the duck pieces and turn to coat with the paste. Raise the heat to high and cook, turning occasionally, for about 5 minutes. Add the remaining coconut milk and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and cook at a strong simmer for 15 to 20 minutes. (The curry can be prepared ahead to this point and set aside for up to 24 hours, once cooled, in a well-sealed container in the refrigerator. Return to the heavy pot and bring to a simmer over medium heat when ready to proceed.)
Add the eggplant, 5 to 6 of the lime leaves, the salt, and the remaining 1 tablespoon fish sauce and bring back to a boil. Simmer for another 15 minutes. Taste and adjust the seasonings if you wish.
Just before you wish to serve the dish, add the chile slices, if using, the remaining lime leaves, and the basil leaves. Cook 1 more minute, then turn into a bowl and serve.
SERVES 4 to 6 as part of a rice meal
NOTES: Several older Thai cookbooks we’ve used for guidance suggest adding nutmeg to green curry paste when making duck curry. We like it, so it’s included as an option.
Since green curry pastes, like all others, vary in chile heat, if you’re using a ready-made paste, you may find that it’s hotter than our Green Curry Paste recipe and that you need use less of it. If you find that your sauce tastes hotter than you want, dilute it by adding more coconut milk or water. (You may then have to add a little salt.)
Traditionally, whole red and green chiles of medium heat are added to the curry near the end of cooking, as beautiful contrast. We’ve had trouble finding those chiles here, so instead we suggest slicing long slender green chiles (the ones we’ve found are medium-hot), and red ones if available, into fat rings. If you wish to substitute half a sweet red bell pepper cut into strips, do so, for the purpose of the chiles is as much decorative as it is flavoring.
Another green curry tradition is the use of the tiny berry-sized green Thai eggplants called makeua puong as garnish. They have a much-prized bitter taste. They’re still hard to find in North America, but if you find them, add them about 5 minutes before you add the chiles and basil leaves.
Green curry paste is special because, unlike most curry pastes, it’s made with fresh green chiles rather than dried red chiles. It’s often used for flavoring duck or chicken and served with plenty of basil and lime leaves, green on green.
All curry pastes vary widely according to the tastes and habits of the maker. We like this version of green curry paste, chile-hot but still not as intensely hot as some, and very citrusy with lemongrass, galangal, and wild lime zest. You can, of course, substitute a store-bought paste (they’re now widely available), as many people in Thailand do.
We make this paste in our large Thai mortar, not so much because we love the long job of pounding it, but because we find that our food processor does not get it chopped finely enough. You could use the processor or a blender and then finish the paste off smoothly in a large mortar. Some small blenders do a good job of grinding finely; if you have one, do use it. We find the whole pounding process takes us about 20 minutes using our large ceramic mortar and wooden pestle. A stone mortar and pestle works faster. The paste needs to be smooth and free of coarse bits that would make a cooked curry sauce grainy.
We like to make this quantity, enough for four curries, since the paste keeps for about a month in the refrigerator.
1 tablespoon coriander seeds
2 teaspoons cumin seeds
1 teaspoon black peppercorns
¼ cup minced coriander roots
1½ teaspoons salt
½ cup minced lemongrass (4 to 8 stalks)
¼ cup coarsely chopped garlic
¼ cup coarsely chopped shallots
2 tablespoons chopped galangal, or substitute 1 tablespoon minced ginger plus 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1 tablespoon minced wild lime zest, or substitute regular lime zest
½ cup bird chiles (preferably green ones), stemmed and coarsely chopped
1 tablespoon shrimp paste
Place a heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Add the coriander seeds and dry-roast, stirring frequently with a wooden spoon, until aromatic and beginning to change color, about 3 minutes. Transfer to a mortar or spice grinder and grind to a powder, then set aside. Use the same method to dry-roast the cumin seeds, about 1 minute, then grind to a powder and add to the ground coriander. Grind the peppercorns and add to the spice mixture.
Use a large mortar (or food processor or blender; see Headnote), to reduce the ingredients to a paste: Place the coriander roots in the mortar with a pinch of the salt and pound until well softened and breaking down. Add the lemongrass and pound until it is well mashed. Add the garlic and another pinch of salt and continue pounding. Once the garlic is shapeless and breaking down, add the shallots and continue until broken down. Add the galangal and lime zest and pound and mash with another pinch of salt to a coarse paste. Add the spice blend and mash and pound until well combined. Add the chopped chiles and the remaining salt and pound until broken down and smooth. Set aside.
Place the shrimp paste on a piece of aluminum foil about 8 by 4 inches. Spread it out in a thin layer, then fold the foil over it to seal and make a flat package. Place a heavy skillet over high heat, put the foil package in the skillet, and cook for about 3 minutes on the first side, pressing it down onto the hot surface. Turn over and repeat on the other side. You should start to smell the hot shrimp paste. Remove from the heat, unwrap it, and add to the curry paste blend. Pound or stir thoroughly to blend. You’ll smell all the aromas in the curry paste as it mixes with the hot shrimp paste.
Store the curry paste in a clean, dry, well-sealed glass jar in the refrigerator. It should keep for about a month.
MAKES 1 cup paste
