Bakmi Ayam

For me, bakmi ayam is synonymous with university. My friends and I basically had bakmi ayam for every lunch we had during our university studies. Our campus was in Haymarket, right next to Sydney’s Chinatown, and there were a plethora of cheap and authentic Asian restaurants to go to. While we did occasionally go to other places, bakmi ayam was our staple. I remember sitting in my university lectures, looking at my watch and just waiting for lunch. It was always just assumed that we would have bakmi ayam for lunch. Looking back on it, it’s very surprising that I didn’t get sick of it. Some of my friends would occasionally put up a fight, but both the proximity of the Indonesian cafe (the Joy Cafe) and the tastiness of the dish were too easy to ignore. Bakmi ayam is an interesting dish.

At first glance, bakmi ayam doesn’t seem to be a complicated or exotic dish. It certainly doesn’t have the multi-layered textures of a lot of other Asian dishes or the exotic flavours of Thai or Malaysian food. However, there was something special about it that I could never put my finger on. The chicken had a unique flavour that I had no idea about, and the noodles were never too wet or dry – they seemed almost oily but without an abundance of oil. I always thought it was rather a mystical dish. It’s served with a nice, hot chicken broth, once again nothing extraordinary, but perfectly complimenting the chicken noodles. I always ate the dish without any accompaniments, whereas one of my friends always smothered it with sambal oelek (chilli sauce). I used to give my friend a lot of grief over his tendency to smother basically every dish that he ate with chilli – what was the point of ordering the dish if all you could taste was chilli? Ironically, probably because of my time living in Thailand, I now also love to use sambal oelek as an accompaniment to not just Indonesian dishes, but many other Asian dishes.

I was recently ruminating and reflecting on my university days, and I realised that, while I didn’t miss university at all, I really missed bakmi ayam. Then all of a sudden I realised something – why couldn’t I cook bakmi ayam myself? The thought of cooking such as dish during my university would never have occurred to me, as I wasn’t really into cooking back then. Given my fond memories of the dish, it’s not surprising that I cooked it the night after my epiphany. Making the chicken noodle element and the chicken broth are two distinct processes, and the latter is arguably more time-consuming and complicated than making the main dish. It was the first time that I made a broth using the carcass of a chicken – it was quite satisfying, as none of the chicken went to waste. The result was a genuine broth made from scratch, using no processed ingredients. As for the actual bakmi ayam, I started to figure out the puzzle that bakmi ayam had been for me in university. In particular, I realised that the primary flavours of the chicken came from kecap manis and oyster sauce. I knew that it would be very hard to recreate the same bakmi ayam that I had had 2-3 times weekly for five years, but I was very pleased with the outcome. The only part of the recipe I didn’t include was the bakso (meatballs), as they were never part of the broth at Joy Cafe. Bakmi ayam is a great recipe for people who want to cook authentic Indonesian food other than the better known nasi goreng and sate. 

Recipe (serves 2-3):

300g boneless & skinless chicken, cut into 2cm x 3cm pieces

2 cloves garlic, crushed and finely diced

3cm ginger piece, crushed and finely diced

2 tbs light soy sauce

1 tbs kecap manis

1 tbs oyster sauce

2 red shallots, finely sliced

400ml chicken stock

1 tbs tapioca starch, or 1 tsp cornflour

Fresh egg noodles, prepared as per instructions

Garlic-infused oil, or chicken oil

Bok choy or choy sum, blanched

Sambal bakso/oelek

Tongchai (Chinese preserved vegetable), to garnish

Spring onions, to garnish

Chicken broth

3L water

3cm ginger piece, finely diced

3 cloves garlic, finely diced

Bones and carcass of 1 chicken

4 red shallots, roughly sliced

10cm cane sugar stick, peeled and cut, or equivalent amount of white sugar

White pepper

Salt

2 spring onions, sliced diagonally

Bakso (meatballs)

To make the chicken broth, bring the water to the boil in a large pan. Add all the other broth ingredients except for the spring onions and bakso, and bring back to the boil. Reduce to a low heat and cook the broth for 30 mins. With 5 minutes left, add the bakso.

Meanwhile, combine a small amount of oil, half the soy sauce, the chicken and the ground white pepper in a wok or heavy-based frying pan. Add the tapioca starch and mix well. Remove from the wok.

In the same wok, stir-fry the garlic and ginger until fragrant, adding some more oil if required. Return the chicken to the wok and continue to cook, stirring frequently, until the chicken changes colour.

Add the shallots, oyster sauce, remaining soy sauce, kecap manis, stock, salt and ground white pepper, and cook until the seasoning is absorbed and the chicken is cooked.

In a bowl, combine 2½ tbs of garlic-infused, 2½ tbs of light soy sauce and a sprinkle of ground white pepper. Add 1 portion of the egg noodles, and mix well. Add the chicken and bok choy and garnish with tongchai and spring onions.

Pour some of the broth into a smaller bowl and add some bakso. Serve with sambal bakso/oelek.

Category: Indonesian

Source: http://indonesia-eats.blogspot.com

Rating: Four stars

Laksa with Beef and Dried Prawns (Guay Tio Kaew)

This laksa recipe from David Thompson is the War and Peace of laksa recipes, if not all Asian recipes. Indeed, it’s the most complicated, lengthy and labour-intensive recipe I’ve ever cooked. A brief look at the ingredients of the recipe indicates the multi-layered elements of this laksa. I actually prepared and cooked it over two nights – I prepared the laksa paste on the first night, which itself took longer than the usual laksa paste takes to make because of the unique method of char-grilling the garlic and ginger. In my opinion, it would just be impossible to cook this in a single night unless you had help from your partner or someone else (I cooked it by myself and so had to prepare all of the elements). I’m not saying at all that the effort isn’t worth it, but you need to be prepared to spend a great deal of time and energy in making this dish. While I always enjoy the process of cooking and creating, I must admit that it was a stressful dish to make, and by the time I had finished it, my shoulders and neck were so tense that I could barely turn my head. I think a great deal of the stress comes from time management – the timing of all the separate elements of this dish is quite important, and you need to make sure that you pay attention to all of these elements in order to bring them together at their peaks.

The recipe is quite unique and interesting, and in my opinion it’s actually arguable whether it ultimately is a laksa or not. It comes from Thai Street Food by David Thompson, perhaps the best non-native expert on Thai food (other than myself, of course). Certainly, laksa is not a Thai dish. It originates from Malaysia and Singapore, and to a lesser degree from Indonesia. Laksa is in my top three favourite foods in the world, what I call my 'desert island' foods. Everyone has probably asked themselves this hypothetical – if you were placed on a desert island and could only eat one dish for the rest of your life, what would it be? Well, one dish would become monotonous after a while, so I've altered the hypothetical to include three dishes. It’s one of those difficult questions to answer, such as what your favourite movie of all time is, because there are so many dishes that I love. I think the three would be stuffed crust pepperoni pizza (we’re all allowed an unsophisticated dish!), Thai red curry and laksa.

So I’m very familiar with laksa and its basic elements. Further, I lived and worked in Thailand for one and a half years, not to mention all the other times that I have travelled there, so I know a great deal about Thai cuisine. I was going to say that I know the A-Z of Thai cuisine, but it’s such a broad and regional cuisine that I think it’s impossible to cover the gamut of Thai food without immersing yourself in all areas of Thailand for many, many years. Basically, while this recipe is delicious, it’s not really a Thai dish in my opinion. Nowhere in Thailand have I ever come across a laksa – most Thai people don’t even know what laksa is! Further, it certainly isn’t considered a common form of street food, which Thailand is famous for. There are definitely elements of Thai cuisine in the dish, but to label it as not only a laksa but an example of Thai street food is, in my humble opinion, incorrect and a misrepresentation of Thai food. It actually more closely resembles a Thai red curry than a laksa, as the consistency of the ‘soup’ is quite thick, similar to red curries, whereas laksa soup is usually not nearly as viscous.

Saying all that, this dish is certainly worth the effort! The final result is a delicious combination of some of the best flavours of south-east Asian cooking. The fact that it isn’t exactly a laksa or a red curry, but something in between, is actually quite intriguing and provides a unique eating experience for lovers of Asian food. There could be an argument that there are too many competing flavours and elements to the dish, but south-east Asian food can be quite complex and layered. So prepare yourself in advance if you want to make this dish, which I recommend you do, and I recommend you make it as I did over two nights, unless, as I said, you are going to have help in making it. Just enjoy it for what it is – not a traditional Thai recipe, not an example of Thai street food, not really a laksa, but nevertheless a delicious, creative and ultimately fulfilling recipe.

Recipe (serves 2-3):

400g beef flank, cheek, shin or brisket

2 cups coconut milk

2¼ cups coconut cream

3 cups stock or water

Good pinch of salt

3 bay leaves

2 green cardamom pods

3cm cassia bark piece or cinnamon quill

2 pandanus leaves, knotted

2-3 tbs fish sauce

Pinch of white sugar

¼-½ tsp roasted chilli powder

Vegetable oil, for deep-frying

½ cup sliced red shallots

150g firm tofu

250g fresh rice vermicelli or 200g dried rice vermicelli, soaked for 20 mins

3 cups bean sprouts

¼ cup dried prawns, coarsely ground

2 tbs preserved Chinese vegetable (dtang chai) rinsed and drained

3 eggs, hardboiled, shelled and quartered

¼ cup roasted peanuts, coarsely ground

2 tbs chopped spring onions

2 tbs chopped coriander

Wedges of lime & roasted chilli powder to serve

Laksa paste

2 bamboo skewers

5 dried long red chillies

1 tbs coriander seeds

1 tsp cumin seeds

2-3 cloves

5 slices ginger

4 garlic cloves, unpeeled

3-5 dried bird’s eye chillies

Pinch of salt

2 tbs chopped lemongrass

1 tsp Thai shrimp paste

2 tsp curry powder for beef (see below)

Pinch of grated nutmeg

Curry powder for beef

5 long peppers known as pipalli or peepar (optional)

1 tsp black peppercorns

1½ tbs coriander seeds

1 tbs cumin seeds

1 tsp cloves

1 tsp fennel seeds

7 Thai cardamom pods or 4 green cardamom pods, husked

2 tbs turmeric powder

1½ tbs ground ginger

To make the curry powder for beef, grind the whole spices to a powder using a mortar and pestle. Add the turmeric and ginger, then pass the powder through a sieve. Store in the fridge.

Next, make the laksa paste. Soak the skewers in water for about 30 mins. Nip off the stalks of the dried long red chillies, then cut along their length and scrape out the seeds. Soak the chillies in water for about 15 mins until soft.

Meanwhile, separately roast the coriander, cumin and cloves in a dry, heavy-based frying pan, shaking the pan, until aromatic. Grind to a powder using a mortar and pestle.

Thread the ginger and garlic onto individual skewers. Grill all the skewers: the ginger need only be coloured, but the garlic must be charred and the flesh soft. Allow to cool, then peel the garlic.

Drain the soaked chillies, squeezing to extract as much water as possible, then roughly chop them. Rinse the dried bird’s eye chillies to remove any dust. Using a mortar & pestle, pound the long red chillies with the salt and, when reduced to a paste, add the bird’s eye chillies. Continue to pound, adding the lemongrass, galangal, shallots, ginger, garlic and shrimp paste, reducing each one to a fine paste before adding the next. Finally, stir in the ground spices, curry powder and nutmeg.

Place the beef in cling-wrap in the freezer for 30 mins beforehand. Trim the beef and cut into thin slices around 2cm thick. Rinse well and dry.

In a large saucepan or stockpot, bring the coconut milk, 2 cups of the stock and 1 cup of the coconut cream to the boil with the salt. Add the paste and, when it has dissolved, the beef. Simmer gently, stirring occasionally, until the beef is just cooked and beginning to become tender. This could take anywhere between 25-45 mins.

In a dry, heavy-based frying pan, briefly roast the cardamom or bay leaves, cardamom pods and cassia bark/cinnamon quill, then add them to the beef, along with the pandanus. Simmer for another 5 mins, skimming occasionally.

Return the soup to the boil (after the option of straining it) and add the fish sauce, sugar and chilli powder. Add the remaining cup of stock and another cup of the coconut cream. Leave to simmer very gently for several minutes, stirring as needed. It improves if left to stand for an hour or so at this point.

Meanwhile, pour the vegetable oil into a large, stable wok or a wide, heavy-based pan until it is about 2/3 full. Heat the oil over a medium-high flame until it reaches 180 degrees. Deep-fry the shallots in the oil until golden, stirring so they cook evenly, then drain on paper towel. Deep-fry the dried chillies for a few moments, then drain on paper towel. Pat the tofu dry and deep-fry it until it has a golden skin. Once drained, cut tofu into cubes. Reserve the oil as the Laksa may need to be enriched later.

When almost ready to serve, re-heat the soup and check the seasoning – it shouldn’t be too thick. The surface should be dappled with an attractive amount of oil. If not, add 1-2 tbs of the remaining oil.

Bring a large pan of salted water to a boil. Pull apart the rice noodle strands and add to the water, together with 2 cups of the bean sprouts. Simmer for a moment or two then drain and divide among four bowls. Add the beef and ladle over the soup.

Sprinkle the Laksa with the ground dried prawns, preserved Chinese vegetable, quarters of hard-boiled egg, roasted peanuts and the remaining cup of bean sprouts. Garnish each bowl with 1 tbs of the remaining coconut cream, 1 tbs of the deep-fried shallots, and some spring onion and coriander. Serve with wedges of lime and roasted chilli powder.

Cuisine: Thai (arguable)

Source: “Thai Street Food” by David Thompson

Rating: Four stars

Beef Rendang

Beef Rendang is one of my favourite dishes, and, at least since I’ve returned from Sydney, I eat it at least once a week, although this was the first time that I cooked it myself. It is one of the most popular dishes in Malaysian cuisine, and it seems to have a level of complexity that Malaysians, or at least those in the know, are able to easily overcome. For instance, there are two great Malaysian restaurants (more life fast-food places if you know what I mean) in the city that I get food from often, specifically Beef Rendang, Laksa and Malaysian Chicken Curry, which I plan to cook next week for my parents. The first one is Laksa House on the bottom level of the Queen Victorian Building (QVB), which I’m sure many of you would be familiar with. The second place, which I think is slightly better than Laksa House, is Malay Chinese Takeaway on Hunter Street near the corner of Castlereagh St. It’s an absolutely no-frills type of place, sort of hole-in-the-wall which you often find the best dishes in when you travel throughout Asia. Indeed, if you get there at 11:55, you can go straight up to the counter and order, but ten minutes later there is a queue of at least 20 people because it’s so popular. Their dishes are authentic and just so delectable, and their Beef Rendang just falls apart.

I do believe that that is the key element, or at least one of the key elements, of Beef Rendang. The beef in all the great rendangs that I have tasted have obviously been slow cooked and are melt in your mouth. There is absolutely no toughness in the meat, and as such the texture is probably my most favourite texture for a meat. One of the other key elements in the dish is the gravy. Firstly, the gravy needs to have those authentic Malay flavours such as lemongrass, chilli, galangal and palm sugar, echoing many of the flavours of Thailand and South-East Asian cuisine in general. The cuisine in South-East Asia is at the same time remarkably diverse and yet reliant upon the same primary herbs and spices. Malaysian cuisine is particularly similar to Indonesian cuisine, and they both have similar but unique versions of well known and much loved dishes such as Nasi Goreng and Laksa. Throughout my cooking adventures to come, I plan to cook the Malaysian, Indonesian and even Bruneian versions of Nasi Goreng so that I can gain a perspective of the different approach to this dish. Anyway, returning to the gravy for the Beef Rendang, it also needs to be thick and sufficient to provide enough moisture to accompany the beef. Sometimes, due to the slow cooking method of the beef which can leech out much of the moisture from the beef, the gravy needs to be close to perfect – too thick and it can make the dish dry; too thin and the richness of the spices is lost and the beef won’t achieve the right texture.  

This particular rendang recipe is from Neil Perry, and given that he is arguably Australia’s best chef, I was excited that I had finally found the perfect recipe for rendang that would give me the beef texture and gravy consistency that I love to buy from places like Malay Chinese Takeaway. Let me say firstly that the dish was quite delicious and I enjoyed it as I do all Asian food. Having said that, it didn’t live up to my expectations, as the gravy was thick but was not voluminous enough to accompany the beef, and the beef didn’t achieve that soft, crumbling texture that is involved with beef rendang. Further, the flavours, while still delicious as I said, were sometimes overwhelmed by the amount of chilli used in the dish, whereas beef rendang is usually not a spicy dish at all. The curry paste calls for 12 long red chillies, and even though they are de-seeded, they provided too much spice for a rendang recipe. Next time, I will cut the amount of chilli in half, and increase the amount of liquid involved in the cooking process. As for the beef, the recipe is ambiguous on the cut of beef required. Obviously, I presumed that a cut of beef suited for stewing or slower cooking, such as blade or chuck steak, were ideal, but the beef didn’t tenderise to the degree that I had wanted. I’m not sure if there are more suitable cuts of beef for a dish such as this. I’m starting to wonder if these Malaysian kitchens have access to a secret type of beef that I have no idea about!!! Can anyone help me out with this? I did see that there is a cut of beef called ‘Gravy Beef’ which seems to imply that it would be suitable for a recipe like this and might tenderise to the point of breaking down, but no matter how long I seem to cook chuck or blade steak, I can never reach that melting consistency in the beef.

While my cooking adventures are about constantly discovering new dishes from different parts of the world, they are also about finding and perfecting recipes that I love. So, I will be looking for another Beef Rendang recipe and will keep cooking it until I find a recipe that I’m happy with it. As ever, I will keep everyone up to date on my cooking travails, and invite comments and suggestions from all.

Recipe (serves 2-3):

800g beef, cubed

150g rendang curry paste (see below)

600ml coconut milk

1½ tbs tamarind paste

6 kaffir lime leaves, crushed

1½ tbs grated palm sugar

Rendang curry paste

15g shrimp paste

1 red onion, roughly chopped

5g fresh turmeric, grated, or 1 tsp ground turmeric

Finely grated zest of 1 lime (kaffir lime best)

40g ginger, finely chopped

40g galangal, finely chopped

1 lemongrass stem, white part only chopped

12 long red chillies, deseeded & chopped

8 garlic cloves, finely chopped

Wrap shrimp paste in foil and roast for about 10 mins in a medium oven or until fragrant.

Blend all paste ingredients together until a smooth paste is formed.

Heat a large wok or pan then add the curry paste and fry for around 3 mins or until fragrant.

Add the beef, coconut milk, tamarind and kaffir lime leaves. Simmer, uncovered, for 1-1½ hours until the meat is tender and the gravy has thickened, stirring frequently.

Finally, add the palm sugar and salt to taste. Serve with Nasi Lemak or steamed rice.

Cuisine: Malaysian

Source: “Good Food” by Neil Perry

Rating: Three and a half stars

Five Spice Caramel Pork (Thit Heo Kho Tieu)



Someone once said to me that Vietnamese food is like Thai food but without the flavour. While I must admit that Thai food is my favourite cuisine, Vietnamese food can be full of flavour, spice and colour. On my first trip to Vietnam, my friend and I took part in a Vietnamese cooking class at Hoi An, a beautiful town which used to be a Portuguese trading village. I recall making some very decent looking Vietnamese spring rolls, which is quite impressive in hindsight given that at that point in my life I wasn’t exactly highly skilled in the food department, except eating of course! The other major culinary highlight of that first trip was a beautiful, fresh banquet of Vietnamese food on a junk in Ha Long Bay as we made our way to Cat Ba Island.

My second visit to Vietnam, unfortunately, didn’t contain many fond memories at all. I had just begun my time living in Thailand, and I went to Vietnam with a German mate in order to renew my tourist Visa. Throughout that two day trip, we were pick-pocketed, overcharged by the hotel, ripped off by a ‘tourist guide’, nearly involved in a fight through no part of our own, and tricked into going to a ‘karaoke’ club where we found ourselves surrounded by over twenty girls and, within ten minutes (during which we were trying to extricate ourselves from the position we were in), were slapped with a bill for over thirty beers which the girls had apparently had and which we had apparently agreed to pay for!!! Ah, the memories.

At this stage, I’m not too well versed in Vietnamese cuisine. I do enjoy Pho in the morning, although as an Asian breakfast I don’t think you can go past Khao Tom Moo (Thai Rice Soup with Pork), which I have cooked and will post at some stage in the near future. I think Luke Nguyen’s cooking show on SBS, which I managed to see the end of when I returned to Australia, displayed some beautiful dishes and the range of ingredients and recipes in Vietnamese cuisine. I didn’t intentionally seek to cook a Vietnamese dish – rather, I was captured by the picture of this recipe on the iPhone application for taste.com. While I’m usually not a fan of anything that has a flavour similar to aniseed, I love the depth of flavour and smokiness that star anise provides to dishes, and the cut of meat, caramelised by the palm sugar, made this dish melt in my mouth and became one of the best dishes I had eaten in a long time. You know that feeling when you take your first bite and it’s almost indescribably delicious, and you can’t believe that you actually cooked it! What really lifted this dish too, not that it needed lifting I suppose, was the addition of fresh slices of Lebanese cucumber and chopped coriander to the steamed rice. I thought to myself, yeah sure, it will probably be nice, but it surprised me how well it complimented and improved the pork, primarily I think because it provides a cold and crunchy contrast to the hot and caramelised pork. I’ll definitely prepare my rice like this much more in the future for such dishes.

Recipe (serves 3-4):

1kg pork belly

1 tbs peanut oil

8 eschallots

6 garlic cloves

60ml soy sauce

125g palm sugar

250ml water

2 whole star anise

1 tsp Chinese five spice

1 tbs fish sauce

8 spring onions

Jasmine Rice

1 Lebanese cucumber

½ cup coriander

Heat the oil in a wok over a high heat. Add 1/3 of the pork and stir-fry for 5 minutes or until brown. Repeat in two more batches.

Heat remaining oil in wok over medium heat. Add eschallots and garlic and cook for 5 minutes or until golden.

Add pork, soy sauce, palm sugar, water, star anise and five spice. Bring to the boil.

Reduce heat to low and cook, covered and stirring occasionally, for 1 hour or until the pork is tender.

Increase heat to high and bring to the boil. Cook for 10 minutes or until sauce thickens.

Add the fish sauce and ½ the spring onions and stir to combine.

Garnish with remaining spring onions and serve with rice topped with cucumber and coriander leaves.

Cuisine: Vietnamese

Source: http://www.taste.com.au/ (Winter) iPhone Application

Rating: Five stars

Red Curry with Chicken (Gang Dang Gai)

It's quite apt that the first recipe published on this blog is my favourite dish. I cooked this dish for a friend and myself at PB in February. I had just returned from Thailand two months prior to the trip to PB, and was trying to re-adapt to life in Sydney, something that I'm still finding hard. My friend has also been going through a difficult time after experiencing many setbacks throughout his 20s. So we can relate to each other greatly, and it was great to go to PB to get out of the city and relax, or to get grounded, as my friend would say.

My friend cooked slow-braised lamb shoulder on the first night, which was aroi maak (Thai for very delicious), and which I thought would be impossible to come close to, not that I was treating it like a competition at all. I decided that I would cook Thai red curry. I was a bit concerned that it would not turn out well, but I followed a recipe from a Thai cookbook that I bought at the Bookazine store on Khao Sarn Road, and it turned out to be wonderful. My friend was very impressed. I had wondered whether I should use chicken or beef, as I actually had initially fallen in love with red beef curry (Gang Dang Nua), but I thought that it had the capacity to toughen up too much. As it turned out, the method of cooking this recipe made everything so tender, especially the vegetables. I decided to use asparagus rather than aubergines, as I’m not a great fan. They turned out to be a beautifully tender addition to the dish. I had to use canned baby corn because there was no fresh baby corn – it’s Umina after all!!! I loved the twist of adding the halved tomatoes towards the end of the dish, together with a handful of brown sugar. The tomatoes actually melted into the dish quite quickly, and added a layer of lushness. I topped it off with a garnish of coriander, which actually was lovely (I’m not usually a huge fan of coriander).

As I said to my friend, the best red curry I’ve ever eaten is at Center Khao Sarn in Bangkok. I would eat it probably twice a week, if not more! My friends, who have been there, agree. It’s just so rich and luscious, my mouth waters even thinking of it now. Red curry for me is the epitome of Thai cooking. I believe you can judge how good a Thai restaurant is by its red curry. Most can make a decent Pad Thai, but red curry is a marker of excellent Thai cooking. I was a bit hard on myself when tasting my dish, as I was comparing it with Center Khao Sarn's red curry, which obviously can’t be beaten. However, I’m proud to say that I was very happy. The only thing that I would do in hindsight would be to add one or two chillies, chopped in large slices keeping the seeds in, in order to add heat to the curry base. It’s Thai cooking, after all! One other thing to note about this recipe is that it uses jarred red curry paste. The advantage of using jarred paste include reducing the cooking time and getting to know the general flavour of a red curry paste. However, I now make my own red curry pastes because the ingredients are fresh and I can alter the balance of the ingredients depending upon my own taste (the spicier the better!).

Recipe (serves 3-4):

500g chicken breast, sliced

3-4 tbs Red Curry Paste

1½ tbs sunflower oil

4 garlic cloves, finely chopped

Bunch of asparagus, chopped into inch-length pieces

15 baby corns, halved

1 red capsicum, chopped into inch-length pieces

500 ml coconut milk

50 ml chicken or vegetable stock

2½ tbs fish sauce

25g brown sugar (or 2 tablespoons clear honey)

2 tomatoes, cut in half

3 kaffir lime leaves, torn in half

2-3 red chillies, sliced into large pieces

Coriander leaves, chopped

Jasmine rice

 

Heat the oil in a wok or saucepan and stir-fry the Red Curry Paste and garlic over a medium heat for 3-4 minutes or until fragrant.

Add the chicken and stir for 4-5 minutes. Add the vegetables, coconut milk, chicken stock, fish sauce and sugar and cook on a low to medium heat for 5 minutes or until vegetables are tender, stirring occasionally.

Add the tomatoes, sliced red chillies and kaffir lime leaves and simmer for an extra two minutes.

Spoon into dishes and garnish with chopped coriander leaves. Serve with Jasmine rice on the side.

Cuisine: Thai

Source: "200 Thai Favourites" by Oi Cheepchaiissara

Rating: Four stars