Organic Farms, Stolen Backpacks & Christmas Letdown: An aromatic journey to the perfect Thai curry
/The year was 2011, and thanks to a set of extraordinarily unpredictable and fortunate life events, I’d spent the best summer of my life living in Paris, France. For reasons I can’t remember today, I decided to take the wad of over 7000 euros I’d saved from working a cash-in-hand job in Paris’ 6th arrondissement and embark on a solo backpacking trip through Southeast Asia by myself for month and a half. Had you asked me months before to locate Vietnam on the map I would have been comically wrong, but in my 24th trip around the sun I never claimed to have it all together. My year to date had consisted of: looking after a herd of 150 goats and making cheese in a mountaintop village in middle of nowhere, Portugal, denied entry to the UK and deportation back to Portugal to armed police, meeting my future husband in the hazy basement of a Paris nightclub, and rehearsing my fake identity schpeel should I be randomly controlled by police while without working papers.
I first fell in love with exotic flavours in my culinary school’s “ethnic” cooking class, for which they have probably found a more tactful title since. Every week we would explore a different cuisine and its accompanying range of ingredients & tools, history and culture and lore. Local restaurateurs were invited to lead the class and share secrets to making authentic Chinese dim sum or middle eastern Kibbeh. So years later, being loose on the streets of Bangkok, Hanoi and Luang Prabang to nourish my crippling hangovers with a things in bags and on skewers degustation menu was an enlightening experience for me. I had to try it all. There were textures I’d never experienced before like the crunchy cartilage of chicken feet and heady aromas of fermented fish sauce and durian fruit. I roamed the aisles of the night markets, the ones the locals visited, taking in the sights and smells of the edible treasures on display in bags, pots and baskets, or fanned atop the charcoal grill. It was a world I never knew existed.
In the minimal research I’d done before setting off on this trip, I’d heard Chiang Mai was one of the best foodie destinations in Thailand. It also happened to be a great place to have your backpack stolen from your hostel, which I later learned as well. I booked a Thai Cooking class with a couple of mates I’d made along the way at a local organic farm. We learned how to make rice, pounded our own curry pastes in mortar and pestles, simmered Tom Yum soup and rich coconut milk curries and even made my favourite mango sticky rice dessert. The class concluded with a walk around the farm and see where the ingredients were grown, and I was in awe as I walked through the gardens of lemongrass, chillies, kaffir limes and Thai basil. I loved being surrounded by ingredients I’d only every known in scarcity at local Asian food markets back home, crunching them up in my hands to enjoy their aromas.
My travels left a significant impression on me and my evolving culinary style. I was intrigued by the delicate force of this new arsenal of aromatic ingredients. My mind was opened to the concept of seasoning with not only salt, but also lime juice, chillies, and sugar to achieve a more multi-dimensional excitement and electricity to my food. I was eager to begin experimenting with this newfound inspiration right away after arriving back home a few days before Christmas. I told my Mom I would make our family dinner start to finish, and that she only needed to buy the ingredients from the list I prepared in advance. The items on the grocery list which eventually required my help to source, may have hinted at the fact that this year’s Christmas feast would be inspired solely by dishes and regions I’d experienced on my travels. You should have seen my Grandmother’s face when I presented a pot of yellow chicken curry on the table with sticky rice instead of a turkey.
Now I find myself back in Thailand in much different circumstances. Nearly 2 months after arriving in sunnier and boozier times my husband Scott and I are starting to count the days until we are hopefully able to make our way back to the UK and figure out a game plan for life in general. So when thinking about what to cook for the latest vlog/blog I thought it best to make a signature Thai dish while we have access to these inspirational fresh ingredients. I’m sure it will also bring back good memories when we look back on enjoying these moments in the kitchen together in the most unique & uncertain time in our lives. I hope you enjoy the rich, bold flavours of this Thai Curry who’s success is mastered in the final seasoning with fish sauce, lime juice, and sugar.
Can’t be bothered to read the full recipe? Watch the whole shebang on YouTube!
Thai Green Curry with Prawns & Local Vegetables
Serves 4 (Sauce 6-8 portions)
This recipe makes quite a bit of sauce, which I like to freeze in batches for 2 so we can have a quick dinner by picking up a bit of veg and some chicken/shrimp. If you’re storing the sauce, don’t finish with the fish sauce, lime juice, etc. Freeze the base sauce and season it fresh every time you use it to bring it back to life!
For the Green Curry Sauce:
3 tbsp coconut oil (or veg oil)
8c Coconut milk
2” pc of galangal (Thai root, similar to ginger), peeled and thinly sliced
Roots from 3 bunches of coriander (cilantro), well washed (if you have them, if not, use the stem-ends of the stalks)
6 kaffir lime leaves (extra can stored in freezer if you have to buy many)
1 stalk lemongrass, outer layer removed
3 tbsp Thai green curry paste (more if necessary to adjust seasoning at the end)
2-3 Thai birds eye chillies, halved
8 Thai Shallots (or 4 small normal), peeled, quartered
Thai fish sauce
Sugar (white, demerara, etc)
Fresh Limes (for juice)
For the Garnish:
24 pc prawns (21-30 size, so about 1.5kg), or enough for 4 ppl
Assortment of Baby Aubergines, cut in bite-sized pieces
4 medium-sized tomatoes, cored & quartered
1 courgette, cut in bite-sized pieces
Baby corn?
Mangetout/snow peas?
Sugar snap peas?
Mushrooms?
Small coriander leaves (for garnish)
For the sticky rice:
2c glutinous rice
Water
Baking/parchment paper or banana leaf
Method:
Soak the glutinous rice for at least 2-3 hours ahead of time in a good amount of water. Mix it around with your hands and discard the cloudy water.
Wash all your vegetables and clean the kitchen thoroughly. Defrost and prep your prawns to get that mess out of the way. Sanitise surfaces and do all the dishes. A clean kitchen is a happy kitchen.
Put on some music. Find a great Spotify playlist to rock out to in the kitchen.
Hopefully it’s after noon and a glass of wine is in order. For this recipe I’d recommend a young, off-dry Riesling, Pinot Gris/Pinot Grigio, Chenin Blanc or Gruner Veltliner. I suppose a cup of tea would be a nice way to relax as well?
Warm the coconut oil in a medium sized pot and sweat the shallots until soft, about 3-5 mins. Add the galangal, chillies, lemongrass and curry paste. Stir and cook out for 2 mins.
Add the coconut milk. Season with a few pinches of salt and add the coriander root and kaffir lime leaf. Bring to a gentle simmer for about 15-20 mins.
Strain the sauce through a fine mesh strainer and keep only what you will need for that day’s meal. Chill the rest quickly in the fridge. Portion and freeze.
Bring a large pot of water to the boil, making sure that a colander fits snugly inside the pot. Fill the pot about 1/3 full with water, making sure it wont touch the bottom of the colander when it boils.
Line the colander with a piece of banana leaf (or parchment paper) and place the soaked rice on top. Drop the colander on top of the pot of boiling water, lowering the heat to a gentle simmer, and place a lid over the rice to trap in the steam for about 20 minutes.
Bring the sauce to a simmer and add all of the vegetables except the tomatoes. Cook for about 10 mins in the sauce until they are tender.
Add the tomatoes and prawns and bring back to a simmer. Cover and drop the heat to very gentle (almost off) and cover with a lid. Allow to cook gently for 5 minutes or until the prawns are cooked.
To finish seasoning the sauce remove it from the heat. Season with fish sauce (at least 2 tbsp but more to taste), lime juice (I would say ½ lime’s juice per portion) and some sugar.
Portion the garnish into the bowls, making sure everyone gets an equal mix of vegetables and prawns. Pour the sauce over top and garnish with small coriander leaves. Serve with a bowl of sticky rice on the side and an extra lime wedge for seasoning.