Chris Amirault

This is the first of a few posts on our days in Hua Hin in early June. I didn't devote a great deal of time to photographing every food cart in the city, partly because there are other resources out there that document the hawkers very well and partly because I had capacity for only 500-odd photographs, which would have gotten me through only the first 36 hours. On our first morning, having walked the 5 km into town on the beach, we grabbed a streetside breakfast on Th Naresdamri, our first of many such rice/egg/curry dishes, this one with pork, chiles, and long beans: I also snapped a quick shot of these crepes with yellow beans and coconut that morning, but they were better looking than tasting. As with a few different curdy, custardy, crepe-y items, they lose a lot as they cool: On our first night in Hua Hin, we ate at Let's Sea, a beautiful if stupidly named restaurant just off the beach (and a short walk from our room at Tadkham Village). Everything we had was just fine, if overpriced: an excellent grilled squid salad, some good if slightly dry sai oa (northern Thai pork sausage), a miang khum with kale leaves as untraditional wrappers, and som tam with crab that lacked any spunk. One advantage to being in town during the rainy season is that resorts like Let's Sea are basically empty, allowing us to saunter through the meal and a couple of Singhas with patience. However, our desire for more oomph and less ahhh lead us downtown for the next night's meal. The Hua Hin night market is, predictably, a sprawling affair whose spine runs along Th Dechanuchit with many additional tendrils extending north and south. There are dozens of food stalls, of course, but there are also a string of seafood restaurants with hosts thrusting menus in your face as you amble around. After perusing all of them, we settled on Lung Ia Seafood Restaurant: The restaurant extends from a small storefront out to the main walkway of the market, probably about ten meters or so, and it's hard to describe the profound commitment to economy of space. Here's a shot of the chef working at some of the wok: Her pace, intensity, and care were what drew us into the restaurant itself. (That and the large number of locals, who seemed to be avoiding nearly every other restaurant on the market strip.) Over her left shoulder you can see the several dozen bowls in which the mise en place sat, available to her, to the chefs behind her running the salad and soup stations, and to the waitstaff, who garnished as items came out of the woks, off the grill, and so on. Directly in front of her is a rack of bottled sauces (two or three kinds of fish sauces and soy sauces, kecap manis, oyster sauce, what looked like black vinegar, and some unlabeled items), and in front of that sits a charcoal grill, on which a few pounds of shrimp, fish, mussels, and the like were grilling at any given moment. The place ran like a well-oiled machine all night long -- and then, when the last customer was scraping up the last bit of fish, they broke the entire kitchen down, packed it up, and took it away. Everything: the grill, the wok stations, the stainless steel prep tables, the front iced display, the plumbing. Everything. It was astonishing to watch. We ate there twice while in Hua Hin, and found it excellent both times. Of course, it was also dirt cheap, with most dishes running about US$1-3. (Thai food, that is: some of the other farangs there seemed hellbent to get a steak and chips to go with their several Heinekens, but not us.) Fried rice with pineapple and shrimp: Grilled prawns, a smaller version than the massive beasts available for bigger bucks: Green curry with squid -- and please note the carrots, which we found, along with other New World items like potatoes and tomatoes, in many different places on the trip. No one seemed particularly vexed at these supposed violations of authenticity: This shrimp and squid salad contained some fried, tubular shrimp crackers that suffered mightily from the humidity (true everywhere we tried them): Fried rice with shrimp paste: Coconut milk soup, with the ubiquitous and happymaking crock of palm vinegar and sliced bird chiles: Finally, given snowangel's prompting, I felt it my duty to try a glass of Mee Khong Thai whiskey: I've heard this described in a lot of different ways that didn't make much sense, but to me this tasted exactly like a golden rum mixed 1:1 with shaoxing wine. Since I like both of those beverages just fine, I enjoyed the glasses I had, and the head waiter at Lung Ia seemed so tickled at the farang tippling Mee Khong neat that I got a second glass for free. We never did try the Mee Khong & Coke on the rocks, but I can see how that might work just fine. Next up: Chatchai Market.

I think Hazan has a recipe somewhere for swordfish that omits the tomatoes but keeps everything else....

Now I'm really confused: Sam says I need Mentha nemorosa and this website says I need Mentha x villosa, and I can't get either one around here. I was also reminded endlessly on a recent trip that we lack any Cuban rum in this country. Finally, if the Bacardi commercials are accurate, I clearly lack the chiseled visage, six-pack abs, and team of writhing, sweaty models to muddle mint properly. I guess I have to cross Mojitos off my list....

What are the (plans for) house bitters, if any?

I feel like peppermint might brighten up basic gin drinks like a Derby Cocktail or a Gin Smash. The French Pearl came to mind bc, sitting here at my desk, the interplay of Pernod and peppermint seems intriguing. Could be a mess, though.... ETA: What about in a Mojito?

3/4 lb per person may be a good average. Just don't expect ME to only eat that much. ← Oh, yeah, I was talking about innocent civilians, not me. And while we're at it, don't you have to add like a 3-4 lb buffer for "cook's treats"?

I've done a few pulled pork parties with my butts and have found that about 3/4 lb of butt pp is necessary -- so that's about 70 lbs if you go butt-only. The problem with augmenting it with anything else is that no one will want option two when there's butt to be et.

Can one assume that the microwave effects on a sponge would basically be replicated with a dishrag? I have switched over entirely to inexpensive washcloths sold at Target for a song (particularly in late summer when the college crowd needs 'em), and it'd be swell to use this method instead of having to bleach them in the clothes washer as often as I do.

Great as always, Erik. Can the participants share a bit more about their substantially different responses to the John Wood?

Here's the troubling bit, from Saint Shirley herself: So, basically, we should all be hoarding White Lily flour now and packing it into our freezers for our children's children?

I haven't found a reliable recipe for that sauce, but you can get it at most large restaurant supply stores. And that rib recipe, tasty though it appears to be, isn't mine; my char siu recipe was left on the cutting room floor, sadly!

I'm not sure I understand what's New Englandy about this place save for some names and the buns. And Bob's right: what's up with the Ipswich being named after a mustard?

Shhhh! That's kinda a restaurant trick! Don't tell the world. Um.. well ok they toss it a lot of oil in the wok really really really quickly. You'd be surprised how much oil a "authentic" asian restaurant goes thru. I used to have to tell my dad to watch out or if I did myself in the kitchen (at age 5 so yes I had a lot of supervision usually one of the other cooks) I would almost always get splattered. Ouch! ← Yup, I do the bit of oil thing, too, which seems to prevent the glop factor. ← Another fan of the oil trick -- and just having returned from two weeks in Thailand, I learned that it's common both to toss the noodles with a bit of oil before frying and to use more than a bit of oil in the pan when cooking rice noodles. Like 1/4 cup per serving. ETA: Oh, and the noodles are prepared two different ways (at least): if they're gonna be in soup, they're cooked until done; if they're gonna be stir-fried then they're significantly undercooked. That's probably obvious but I thought it worth mentioning.

Just back from Thailand, where someone really should set up a tiki bar worthy of the astonishing fruit there. You'd also have access to Havana Club rum, though a lot of other needed ingredients seem impossible to find. Freshly extracted coconut milk is a wonder, and though it took some searching, one can find passion fruit juice (though no passion fruit). I post mainly to share a tale of woe, however. I bought a bottle of passion fruit syrup from a remarkale baker in Chiang Mai and was dying to try it. Out of fear that it'd leak, I didn't open it to taste it before our flights back, and the fine gentleman responsible for protecting Thai airways safety deemed it illegal and tossed it.

There's been a lot of talk around here devoted to mint muddling styles that address the differences between dry vs. wet, pressure, and the like (you can start in media res here or scroll to the top), but I've not found any discussions of types of mint. We have two massive pots devoted to peppermint and spearmint here, and I tend to pull a few sprigs from both when making juleps, French Pearls, Gingered Gentlemen, and so on. However, I've probably not paid sufficient attention to which type of mint would be better in different drinks. For example, I'm wondering if peppermint is a good choice for French Pearls, whereas the bite from ginger might make spearmint better for the GGs. Who's already done the research on this one? And whatcha got?

I've just updated my recipe for the Gingered Gentleman, a fine tipple for all occasions between Memorial and Labor Days. It's also the beans while roasting turkey on Thanksgiving, toasting a new year, and recovering from snow shoveling.

Getting ready to make a few tonight for a cookout and realized that I hadn't updated with the recipe I've been using consistently: 2 oz bourbon (Wild Turkey 101) 3/4 oz lime juice 3/4 gingered syrup big dash orange bitters big dash Peychaud's or Angostura bitters 2-3 sprigs mint plus garnish Reed's ginger beer Muddle mint lightly then add bourbon, lime juice, syrup, and bitters; shake with cube ice. Strain into highball glasses containing fresh ice and top with the beer. Garnish with mint and serve with a straw. This is a pretty dry, spicy version; for the timid you can reduce ginger syrup and/or add simple, use a tamer ginger ale, and dash in less bitters.

This kinda makes me wonder about alcohol substitutions in general. With older Westernized cookbooks for Asian food you see all sorts of things suggested for shaoxing -- sherry, of course, but I've seen whiskey, vermouth, and port all mentioned. Some seem like wacky ideas, and others not so weird. Does anyone have suggestions for substitutions that have worked?

Got to agree that the food options are appalling. Having said that, a bad espresso in Italy is better than most good espressos elsewhere (especially Thailand).

It's a layover en route to Thailand, so a trip into Rome isn't a doable option, I don't think. Perhaps mediocre airport food in Italy will hold some magical appeal....

We'll have several hours sitting around the Rome airport (FCO). What should we eat?

Our go-to Chinese restaurant (Lucky Garden in N Prov RI) makes all their dim sum items in-house. That's usually a very good thing: if it's available, they made it that morning. However, two of the brother/owners are far better than the third, and thus sometimes it's disappointing. I cannot imagine a frozen bao being very good. Ditto the custard tarts, siu mai, etc. etc.

In a frenzy of pineapple infusion this weekend (including three big rum jobs), I have about 2c of original Campari infusing with pineapple. In a few weeks I'll try an adjusted Riveria with this not-quite-right infusion (missing the gin and maraschino) -- but if anyone (Toby?) has tips before then, do let me know.

Would one of our PDT friends please do tell us how to make that? Is it 1:1 simple with a smoked cardamom infusion, or is there more?

Smoked cardamom syrup, you say?