Crispy Thai Noodles
Some like it hot
South Africans seem to become ever fonder of spicy Thai food. Andrea Burgener tracks how this cuisine took root locally.
Thailand performed an extraordinary feat in the last three decades of the 20th century by invading the cities and towns of the English-speaking world and studding them with Thai restaurants. In speed and scope, this feat is unique."
So writes Alan Davidson under the Thailand entry in his massive Penguin Companion to Food (Penguin, 2002). But we can even add more ports of call to cities and towns: just the other day I feasted on a very good Thai green curry, not in any town, nor even at any real restaurant, but at an innocuous takeaway eatery at the decidedly un-urbane Harrismith fuel stop (the presence of a Thai owner was what convinced me). Proof, if any was needed, that this is a cuisine which has moved way past fad and is as entrenched in our eating habits as burgers and pizzas.
It's easy to forget that there was a time, even if brief, when Thai food seemed almost scarily exotic to most of us. Eccentric and visionary chef Eric Lemkes, aka Eric Sangchloury - and a host of other pseudonyms - is generally regarded as being the restaurateur who first brought it to South Africans. Cranks - now in the relatively posh Gauteng suburb of Rosebank, though located way further to the unfashionable south when it first began - has been offering Thai food since the mid '80s (a damn long time ago in food trend terms, even pre-dating the sun-dried tomato, I suspect).
Thai-born Nirun Kongthong, chef and owner of Yindee's on Cape Town's Camp Street - at 14 years one of the city's longest-standing Thai eateries - says that while his (often well-travelled) customers nowadays want their experience as authentic as possible, in his first years of business many of them asked for their dishes totally free of chilli or coriander, and one unhappy diner sent back a dish flavoured with lime leaf, complaining that washingup liquid must have gone into his meal by mistake.
Okay, so we didn't just take to it like ducks to water. But, locally speaking, Thai's had an easier ride than many other Asian cuisines in terms of acceptance. Japanese had to do about a decade more spadework before going truly mainstream; Cantonese meals such as yum cha are still eaten almost solely by Chinese South Africans after more than half a century of being available in the country; and Malaysian and Korean haven't really taken hold at all, with the few eateries around never starting any sort of trend.
So what is it that's made Thai so successful? I think a lot has to do with the fact that both the ingredients and methods of Thai cuisine are right in line with the eating trends of the last few decades, and are becoming ever more so: light, fresh, and with an emphasis on vegetables, herbs and a plethora of other staples which have been applauded by nutritionists - ginger, garlic, basil leaf and lime, for example.
Even the fat most commonly used, coconut, is getting better press every year: it's long been known for its antifungal properties, and now, as the struts around the cholesterol and saturated fat hypotheses start collapsing, coconut is advised for its part in cardiovascular health. As a fully saturated fat, it remains stable under high heat, and is far healthier than many of the refined vegetable oils used in western diets, produced with damaging heat and chemical extraction.
Mickey Liu, Thai chef and co-owner of the much lauded Sai Thai in Cyrildene, Gauteng (and possibly the most rabidly passionate chef I've encountered in some time), agrees with this theory to a limited extent. She believes Thai's universal appeal is all in the complexity of the flavours.
The food's multilayered attack on the tastebuds, she reckons, is more satisfying than the comparatively linear experience of many other cuisines. True, the interplay of sharpness, heat, sweet and salty, plus the fresh blast of ginger, galangal, lemongrass and/ or fresh herbs is quite mind-blowing when the balance is right. Of course, to get this combination to unleash its full power, the freshest and best ingredients need to be used. And that's where things often go awry...
Which brings us to the question: exactly how authentic is the Thai food our restaurants are offering us? Well, as with all cuisines, it depends very largely on which eatery you're in. Quite obviously, there are always some dodgy places. But if you eat at one of the better Thai restaurants, your experience - according to most Thai travellers I've spoken to - is pretty good and pretty authentic (actually, one restaurant critic friend who was in Thailand recently reckons that some of what she's had here is far better than what she was offered there!).
As seems to be the case with most Thai-born chefs, especially in the independent eateries, Liu is a stickler for authenticity and makes no concessions to local tastes. It wouldn't make sense anyway, she says: around 60% of her customers have been to Thailand and seek out the restaurant to relive the dining experience, while many homesick Thai travellers also make a beeline for Sai Thai. She relates with joy how a travelling Thai businessman was brought to tears by one of her dishes; it reminded him so much of home. One area where there is sometimes a lack of authenticity, according to Thai chefs and restaurateurs, is from the diners' side - that is, in the way many of us approach and eat a Thai meal.
South Africans often keep up the habit of ordering their own plate of food, as per European dining, and wading through this alone. In Thai dining, all dishes are shared, which enhances the layered flavour experience. Many dishes are simply not designed to be eaten sans companions, and cry out for the counterpoint of other flavours and textures. Where- as it's hard for occidental diners to shake the habit of ordering starters and mains, in Thailand - apart from snacky "on the hoof" stuff or canapé-type accompaniments to drinks - the custom is for all dishes, including soup, to be served at the same time.
The other issue, for me anyway, is one of menu tunnel- vision. Certain dishes always hog the limelight when food travels (call it the Italian-pasta-and-pizza syndrome), and Thai food is no exception. The dishes we do have here might be cooked authentically, but there are a host of others we miss: there's an awful lot of green and red curry, pad thai and tom yam on the go, but the homemade ginger and coriander pork sausages, crispy noodle dish mee grob or spiced quail that feature so seductively in my Thai-authored cookbooks (along with dozens and dozens of obscure others, many strongly refl ecting the Burmese, Chinese, Indian, Vietnamese and Malaysian influences on the cuisine), are hardly ever off ered. And the wonderful sticky rice used in the north and northeast of Thailand, in place of the fluffier jasmine version we get as the default rice in our restaurants, is almost never served with savoury dishes here.
I'm not complaining, though, that some of the weirder authentic items from certain poorer rural areas in Thailand haven't come our way. Call me conservative, but ant-eaters' eggs, dog, cow's placenta, and giant water-beetles I ain't desperate to try!
MEE GROB
(CRISPY NOODLES)
A village favourite which later became popular
in the cities.
4 cups oil
200g rice vermicelli (sen mee)
SAUCE
½ cup vinegar
½ cup sugar
1 t salt
1 t tomato paste
1 t crushed garlic
GARNISH (this differs from place to place)
2 eggs beaten
¼ cup finely chopped baby spring onions/scallions
½ cup finely sliced green beans or bell peppers
1/8 cup chopped chives
1 T chopped coriander leaves (or basil)
METHOD
Heat oil to 190ºC, or so that a piece of vermicelli immediately
puffs up but doesn't brown.
Fry the vermicelli in a few batches and drain on paper.
Fry beaten eggs omelette-style, and slice into thin
strips once cool.
Cook all sauce ingredients in a small saucepan until
slightly syrupy.
In a large bowl, mix noodles with the still hot sauce.
Place on a serving dish, scatter with the garnish and
serve immediately. Best eaten with a fairly plain steamed
dish and raw vegetable salad.
Photographs courtesy of Sai Thai
