The Secret Sauce

I’ve lived a fine life. When I was 16, as many young American Hebrews do, I took a trip to Israel to explore the motherland and deepen my connection to the religion. For me it worked in the other direction. I saw so many secular Israelis, seemingly fulfilling the Zionist mission, yet absent of piety and reverence. They just were. People connected to their history but not wrapped up in god or dogma. I never looked back.

Then came college. Somehow, I cannot recall how I wound up doing my final year abroad in Italy. Seriously, I don’t know what led me to this decision. I knew nothing abut the place, had no connection (other than my mother’s half-Italian heritage, which merely meant good spaghetti and meatballs in our house). But there I was, deep in the experience of learning Italian history, culture, language, art, archaeology… I never looked back.

After I graduated college my first and only job was in the travel industry. I stumbled upon it while looking for anything I could do after moving to Boulder, Colorado on a whim. I was planning to study nautical archaeology at CU, as there was a professor who focused on Roman ports in Israel, the perfect marriage of my passions. To pay the bills, I took a position with a tour company specializing in adventures in Southeast Asia. I was a Mac guy that could work magic on their Filemaker database. Soon I was spending months a year in Asia building their sales division and becoming a noted expert on travel in Asia. I never looked back.

I’m fortunate to say that travel is my greatest passion that I’ve continually fulfilled. It’s my familiar. I slip it on easily. Throughout the ups and downs of life, I always seek to create new experiences by discovering new lands. In fact, I really live for the next trip. No matter what I’m doing, I want to know that I have two or three weeks in the not so distant future that will recharge my batteries. It the only way I know how to accept and manage the doldrums of normal life (ok, it’s not so bad, really…but you get the point).

Now, on the road in Argentina, discovering a new place, yet again, with a life very different than my last trip to Spain in 2010 and Greece in 2009, I’ve noticed a trend. First, it doesn’t matter where life has taken us, when we travel we reconnect with ourselves. Without the pressures of our daily grind, the expectations we set for ourselves, the routine…it’s easier to get to the root and be present. Moreover, when we experience another culture a traveler will relinquish his predisposition, ignorance and fears and become more receptive to what the universe offers. We let go a little easier, we experience a little deeper.

On this trip I’ve already found a deep connection to Argentina. I know it, even after just a few days. The formula adds up – they have the secret sauce. It’s not hard for my readers to see that my favorite places in the world are Thailand and Italy. I speak both languages passably and have returned time and again, something I haven’t done in many of the other lands I’ve visited. When I look at the commonalities between the places, and now add Argentina to the mix, there is a pattern: I like places that have a broad geographical diversity, Thailand’s north and south couldn’t be more different. Italy’s have practically seceded from each other. Argentina has Patagonia and wine country and Buenos Aires and more. There’s a casual elegance about everything here. Its not Europe, but it’s got the same charm. Then there are the people, friendly and welcoming all across the board. In each of these places you really feel like you can get a sense of their true experience. They welcome you to participate.

But most importantly, and I wouldn’t be the Zealot if it weren’t so, each country reigns supreme on their continent for food. Sure, you can argue that Vietnamese is better than Thai or French is superior to Italian or the Brazilians or Chileans outdo the Argentines. But this is my blog and I’m the one ranting. So, I’ll say it. Thai, Italian and Argentine food sensibilities speak to me and I consider them the best. I dream of Thai noodles and curries. I lust after handmade pasta and regional Italian cuisine. And so far, I’m quite impressed with Argentine seafood, empanadas and of course the beef. I’m looking forward to two more weeks of exploration.

I love that there are common threads in these places. I am glad to be uncovering this secret sauce of my own. I’m positively certain we all have our own secret sauces. It helps me to understand me a little better. It gives me joy to have places that I can return and feel at home, so far away, yet so familiar. I’m loving being present. And, I’ll never look back…

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Gai Yang and More About Laos

Most people are surprised to learn that many of the “Thai” dishes they eat in the USA is actually more akin to the cuisine of Laos. Dishes like larp (meat salad, often with duck, buffalo or chicken), som tam (green papaya salad), sticky rice and gai yang (grilled chicken) are staples of the Northeast Region of Thailand, known as Isaan, which borders Laos. The region is know for being the backwater of Thailand and therefore produces hearty-rustic cuisine, unlike the more refined Royal Cuisine of Bangkok. In fact, the cultured Thais make a joke of calling Isaan “Lao”, a dig intended to distance themselves from their country brethren.

For my part, I love Isaan and Laos. I love the people, the food and the culture. They are easy-going, jovial sorts who eat with their hands, drink lots and lots of booze (Lao Lao) and welcome you as family when you visit. When I meet a new Thai person for the first time and they are surprised that I speak some Thai, I often break the ice by saying “phom pen kohn Lao”, which implies ‘I am from Isaan’. Laughter ensues.

I don’t cook Thai food often. Frankly, I leave most Asian food to Asians. There are subtleties that only evolve from submersive practice of a cuisine over a lifetime that I may never master. I can fake it with the best of them, but seeing an old woman huddled over a mortar and pestle banging out some som tam is truly one of the great culinary treasures on this earth. From the way she masterfully slices the papaya, to the exacting measure of garlic, fish sauce, dried shrimp – it’s an artform. I have a much better grasp of diner food, Continental and California techniques.

Still, when I get a hankering to throw down some Thai, I look to Isaan. The dominate flavors all come together in almost every dish: spicy, sour, sweet and salty. Fish sauce, lime juice, palm sugar and chilies form the foundation. The stuff is pretty easy to make, but wows a crowd because it is at once exotic and damn tasty.

This weekend I was in full 4-year old mode. With an only child we are hyper-sensitive about arranging for play dates. It gives him companionship and gives us a break. I was all about the play dates this weekend. Sleepover, birthday party, park, kid’s club at the gym – it was exhausting. To make matters worse, on Sunday night I offered to BBQ at my house. It was either that or play chase, hide and seek, puzzles and watch Spongebob all night. I welcomed the hoard of children that would come. The cooking, I can handle.

I grabbed some whole chickens from Avedano’s a female-owned sustainable butcher shop in Bernal. I’ve had mixed opinions about their offerings, but I’m fully on board after these chickens. At $3.79 a pound for pasture-raised birds, it was a great deal and a great bird. The birds got cut up into 8 pieces (minus the back, skin-on, bones-a-plenty) and took a soak in a bath of good fish sauce (not the crap from the Philippines), garlic, palm sugar, a splash of soy, a hint of chilies, white pepper, coriander and black pepper. I tossed and turned them four about three hours. The longer the better.

For sticky rice you need to have a special basket and pot. Look online if you don’t have a Thai grocer nearby (but I mean really, who doesn’t have a Thai grocer nearby? sheesh). The “sweet, glutenous rice” needs to soak in water for about 2-3 hours before cooking. You can find this special kind of rice from, you guessed it, a Thai grocer. Or online. You must use the right tools here – you can’t fake sticky rice. And this is the only rice you can serve with these dishes. Ya hear me? Fill up the cooking pot and put the rice in the basket to steam until it is tender and forms a nice ball when squeezed together.

Back to the chicken. Light a charcoal fire on half of your grill. Put all of the marinated chicken pieces on the other half. Let them cook with indirect heat and smoke, turning occasionally, for about 20-30 minutes. Keep checking for doneness so they don’t dry out. By using indirect heat, it is much harder to dry out the chicken. When you’re just about to pull them off, put them over the coals for a minute to get some sweet char on them.

Serve the whole mess family style. Put the sticky rice in a bowl and cover with a damp warm towel. Toss the chicken in a little bit of Thai sweet chili sauce, just to give it a light glaze. Not too much. Encourage your guests to eat with the hands and tear in. The technique is to scoop some rice and then grab a hunk of meat with the rice. The sounds of chomping and slurping an “oh that’s good” and “give me more” will follow. A true food orgy.

I served this batch with some fiery haricot verts (Dirty Girl Farms: we love you!) made with some simple roasted chili paste, a little fish sauce, ciopllini onions and a splash of soy. Saute them on high heat until slightly tender. I also cheated and grabbed a bucket of Som Tom I had Grand Pu Bah whip up for me. You try and manage a gaggle of kids running around your house for an impromptu BBQ AND make Som Tom!

For dessert, I have to give a shout out to our friend Katja who was able to pull together a honey-yogurt ice cream last minute that rocked! We topped them with the Dirty Girl Farms strawberries for a perfect end to the meal.

This dinner made me think that maybe I could go a little deeper into Thai cuisine. Subtleties be damned, the stuff is just that good. At the least every chef needs to be able to pull out some family-style Thai that shake things up from your standard ho-hum BBQ to something otherworldly.

The Joi of Khao Soi

I want you to close your eyes and dream about Thailand with me. As I’ve mentioned before, during the 90s I owned an adventure travel business focused on Southeast and South Asia. I spent many months poking around the hidden corners of Laos, Burma, Vietnam, India, Nepal, Bhutan……but there is one place that I can truly call my home-away-from-home: Thailand.

Khao Soi Noodle Soup

Photo Courtesy of David Hagerman at Easting Asia (LINK)

As the gateway to Southeast Asia, Thailand is easy to navigate, has unbelievably friendly people, a great diversity of interesting sights, stunning countryside and, most importantly, the best food in Asia. Hands down. Sorry to you Indiaphiles or Vietnamists, I believe the Thais have it. Food is such an inextricable element of the culture in Thailand, much like in Italy it dominates much of the experience. Also like Italy, Thai food is quite regional: from seafood and spicy curry in the South, to grilled meats and papaya salad in the Northeast. They’ve borrowed the best influences from their neighbors, incorporating elements of Malay, Indian, Chinese and even Burmese traditions into their culinary fabric.

Today’s journey takes us to a Burmese influenced dish called Khao Soi. Let us start with our old friend Wikipedia:

Khao soi or Khao soy (Thai: ข้าวซอย) is a Burmese-influenced dish served in northern Laos and northern Thailand, especially Luang Prabang and Chiang Mai, respectively. In northern Laos, this dish is a soup made with wide rice noodles, coarsely chopped pork, tomatoes, fermented soy beans, chillies, shallots, and garlic, then topped with pork rind, bean sprouts, chopped scallions, and chopped cilantro. In northern Thailand, it is a soup-like dish made with deep-fried crispy egg noodles, pickled cabbage, shallots, lime, nam prik pao, and meat in a curry-like sauce containing coconut milk. The curry is similar to that of yellow or Massaman curries but is thinner. Some recipes use Massaman curry in the dish. Though northern Lao people have a special way of preparing this dish, different versions of it can be found at Lao restaurants. It is popular as a street dish eaten by Thai people, though not frequently served in Western Thai restaurants.

So, let’s get on to the dream sequence. It’s a hot day in the Chiang Mai. Lunch time. (Khao Soi is a lunch dish, as are most noodle fare – so stop ordering Pad Thai for dinner – in fact, stop ordering Pad Thai at all, there are so many other better Thai noodle dishes – but that’s another post). We’re on a motorbike poking around the city, exhaust and dust kicks up from thousands of other motorbikes clogging the streets. Under a hot tin roof there is a gaggle of people seated on plastic chairs hovered over big bowls, slurping up noodles buried under hunks of stewed meat and crunchy, pickled veggies. The steam from a curry-rich, sweet and savory broth billows into their faces and all you can think about is the Thai word “Hom”, which means aromatic.

Chiang Mai Khao Soi Shop

Photo Courtesy of David Hagerman at Easting Asia (LINK)

We park our bike on the shoulder and take a seat. The sound of Thai people chattering can resemble crickets or cicadas in the jungle (if you’ve never heard this sound click here to listen) – it is cacophonous, yet soothing at the same time. We order startlingly cold Singha Beer. We wait for our Khao Soi. It can take a while, so maybe a few beers are in order. Our heads start to swim a little bit in anticipation of something exquisite and numbed by the Singha. Maybe it takes so long for the soup to arrive because you have to get mentally prepared. Khao Soi is best served relaxed.

At last the bowls arrive. Thai are big fans of self-seasoning. Khao Soi has a specific lineup: sour picked veggies, roasted chili paste, lime and raw shallots. We play with the seasoning, adjust for spiciness and begin to pray over the bowl. Crunchy noodles that sit on top and when mixed with the broth and the wet noodles, add a contrast that defines Khao Soi, to me. The meat is fall-off-the-bone tender (chicken or beef or both) and has absorbed the flavor of this powerful broth. An occasional bite of a veggie or shallot adds another layer of texture an flavor that evokes a smile or a nod. We scoop the coconut broth with our spoons in tandem with our noodle and meat foraging. We start to sweat. Ahhhh.

Thai Massage

Thai Massage

Nothing follows a spicy, heady, noodle fest like a Thai massage. It is almost essential to unscramble your body and brain. In San Francisco, you can have them both, within a block of each other. Last week I received a text from the owner of Grand Pu Bah: “Hello! I have Northern-style spice curry noodle today. Cheer!!!”. I text back: “Khao Soi??!!!”. It’s a special that shows up on the menu rarely and is unlike any of their other ‘refined’ Thai dishes. It’s rustic and raunchy – just like you’ll find on the streets of Chiang Mai. If you have a chance to track this special down, don’t miss it! And…….Suchada Thai massage is 1/2 block down the street. Ahhhh.

Noodle Soup @ Grand Pu Bah

Say what you will about Grand Pu Bah (some feel it is overpriced, others don’t like the fusion elements), I [heart] their noodle soups. We are good friends with the owners and I have a special relationship with Thailand and Thai food. This may make loving GPB easier for me. Plus it is just two doors down from my showroom.

The trick? Order the tom yum noodle soup or chicken noodle and trick it out with your preferences. I like the chicken noodle and add Chinese broccoli (order medium spicy and season yourself). Then squeeze some lime juice in it. Oh my!

Tell the Pi’dam sent you and you’ll get special treatment!