pim

Lunch is a bento box of pork in ginger/sesame sauce, with a few sunomono (cold things, including pickles and some cold stewed vegetables, and one gyoza (Japanese dumpling). I picked up the box from a Japanese grocery store in Japantown, on my way down to work. It looked better than it was, actually. The sauce was so cloying sweet that I barely finished half of it. Perhaps I will have better luck at dinner time.

Good morning everyone. It appears Melkor hoodwinked me into taking the food blog duty this week. This is good and bad, actually. This week is going to be somewhat more interesting than my normally uneventful week, which is the good part, of course. The bad part is that this is not an accurate portrayal of my eating life, by any means, which could be seen as defeating the purpose of this blog. Oh well, Melkor knew this when he tagged me. This week, I will be at home, in San Francisco, from Monday to Wednesday, and will travel to Heidelberg and Strasbourg for a few days. So, this food blog will take you from my comparatively mundane existence in San Francisco, to exploring the exciting world of airline and airport food, to devouring assorted wurst and Bitburger in the cold in Heidelberg, and to perhaps a more refined French culinary scene of Strasbourg. This might be fun, no? Breakfast today looks like this A bowl of latte, a glass of orange juice, a slice of toast with butter and jam, a bowl of yogurt with a dollop of jam in it. The latte is homemade, from Francis! Francis! X5, using Illy espresso pod (yes, I am a pod person). I’m not sure if Melkor will approve of my foam though. The bread is Delle Frattoria’s Pain Intégral, bought at the ferry plaza farmer’s market on Saturday. The butter is Strauss Family Creamery lightly salted butter. I always use salted butter to eat out of hand, unsalted is, to me, only for cooking. The jam, or ahem, confiture, is from the grande dame of confitures, Christine Ferber. The one on the bread today is Reine Claude d’Alsace, the dollop in the Strauss Yogurt is Framboises d’Alsace et Violette. (Hmm, I just noticed that I use two jams from Alsace this morning, perhaps I’m already unconsciously prepping myself for the trip). The Yogurt is Strauss Family Creamery organic whole milk plain yogurt. I never buy flavored yogurt, preferring to use my own jams to flavor it. This gives me more variety and also a chance to control the level of sweetness to my own taste. And for those of you who’re wondering, no I don’t eat like this every day. But, no, I’m not doing this to make my blog interesting, well, not entirely, anyway. I’m working from home this morning, and this is usually what my breakfast is like when I work from home. I live in SF, my office is in San Jose, which, for those of you who’re not in this area, is 45 miles (72 km) away. I also work a lot with teams from different time zones, resulting in many conference calls commencing at ungodly hours in the morning. When this happens, instead of getting up at the crack of dawn to get to the office, I just stay home and call into the meetings in my pajamas. (TMI?) [edited to resize the photo. Thanks Melkor. I'm such an idiot.]

Wow, when I agreed to dine with Mr. and Ms. Melkor last night, I had no idea that I (or more specifically my hands) would be guest starring on his food blog. Dinner last night was most pleasant, both on account of the food and the company. I’ve always loved Zuni, and conversations with Mr. and, more so, Ms. Melkor have always been delightfully entertaining. And last night was just as it should be, fantastically simple and honest food in the company of good friends. I must admit mea culpa on the quail photo. I was trying to be nice by moving the dish to a better spot on the table. Oh well, you didn’t miss much. The quail definitely tasted better than it looked (it looked pale and ever-so-slightly sickly). The food last night was Zuni food in its usual form, though I found a dish or two slightly disappointing. The fries, oh how I love those fries, usually, but the ones last night were slightly limp. I sent one plate back, but the new plate was still not up to their usual standard. They tasted just fine, just a little bit on the oily and limp side. Too bad. I agree with the Melkors on the polenta. I’m not a big fan of polenta anyway, unless it has gobs of extremely flavorful and dense stew on top of it, like what I’ve had in Northern Italy. This polenta was decidedly bland, the mascarpone and permigiano reggiano on top barely helped. Unlike the Melkors, I love the chicken dish. The Zuni roasted chicken is, to me, the epitome of what Zuni is all about. The best ingredients, prepared lightly with skillful hands, served with simple but extremely complimentary accompaniments. It was superb, as usual. The braised duck leg was good as well, but I preferred the chicken, especially because my companions gladly let me have all the wings. I am such a wing girl. Yum. We drank a bottle of 1999 Hendry zinfandel with our meals. Ms.Melkor picked it out of the wine list, but not before Melkor flaunt his psychic prowess and wrote the name down on a piece of paper and handed it to me. He was right on. Aren’t couples irritating? The desserts were lovely. I adored the meyer lemon tart. I can’t remember the last time I dined or lunched at Zuni without having at least one kind of tart for dessert. I so love the unbelievably crisp and tasty tart dough. I was a little less happy with the apple and cranberry crisp. They were good, but nothing spectacular. I don’t really understand cranberries anyway. Perhaps it has to do with me not being American. Cranberries seem to be such a North American thing. Melkor, that silly guy, insisted on a cappuccino after dinner. I told him I would make fun of him here, so he pre-empted it by admitting to the deed himself on his blog. Still, it didn’t make it any less embarrassing, old man!

Actually, Or Tor Kor and Jatujak Market is at the other end of the Skytrain line from On-nut. I believe the station is called Mor-chit. Or you can simply tell someone at the ticket counter that you are heading to Jatujak Market, they will point you to the right direction. I was just there last week.

My point exactly. The sea urchins found in Thailand are not the type that is usually eaten. They are unpalatable. The urchins found in Thailand are only good for causing enormous pain when stepped on. I've not tried to eat them myself, but I am sure that had they been at all palatable, the Thais would have been eating them all along. I mean, we eat Hosreshoe Crabs!!

Melkor, could you give more details? I've been curious about it and am planning a visit next month. Would love some more details on the food and also the reservation process. Here's what I said about Kiss in another thread: Actually, the best deal is to order omakase, it is only 35 or so, for (usually) five courses of sushi, sashimi, a cooked dish or two and a soup. I once ate there in the (accidental) company of none other than Alice Waters. Patricia Unterman (the only critic in town whose palate I respect) wrote a rhapsodic review of the place a while back on her column. What more could I say? On the reservation thing, non-regulars might have a problem booking seats at the bar during busy nights, but try anyway. They are so nice they will try to accomodate you as much as they can, I'm sure. Disclosure: I do know the place and the chef well, having been a regular since he opened. I don't stand to gain anything, beyond a free sushi or two, which I usually get anyway, from writing a good review of the place, however.

I would cross the bay for Kirala's tempura. The batter is light, the shrimp fresh, the sauce is warm (as it should be.) I find the sushi to be only good, but the tempura fantastic.

hmm...I went back to read my post on sushi and I realized I sounded like Plotnicki. Let me explain myself. I definitely don't think good food = expensive food. Trust me, the one food item of which I could consume unlimited quantity is tandoori Lambchop at the New Tayyab in London. They cost next to nothing, yet are one of the best things in the world to eat. I eat at holes in the walls all the time, and am definitely not a fan of the Slanted Door. I just think sushi, as a special category, is different. A good sushi starts with impeccable ingredients, meaning that a restaurant simply cannot compormise on the quality. Freshness is also another issue. If I wanted a sushi meal, one factor I would never bother to worry about is cost. And don't get me started on the sushi boat thingy.

..because there isn't one. No they are not. The stuff that Japanese restaurants serve in Thailand are flown in from elsewhere.

Ok I’ll bite. I am a sushi aficionado, a purist at that. No California Roll or avocado in anything for me. Sushi is about impeccable piece fish on top of perfectly seasoned rice, that is it. If that’s what you are looking for, the only place in town is Kiss. This is not a place for everyone, mind you. If you think avocado has a place in a sushi or maki, don’t bother. If you are looking for “inexpensive” sushi, don’t bother. If you’re in the mood for fussy rolls swimming in sticky sauce, dragon roll or spider roll, really, don’t bother. If fantastic sushi and other Japanese dishes are what you’re looking for, make a reservation at Kiss. You will be in for a treat, pristine ingredients, impeccably made dishes that are complex but unfussy, and simply sublime. I just came home from a fantastic 10 day trip to London and Paris, my fourth one since August. It was another busy time for my tastebuds, including Robuchon’s chestnut soup, Fergus Henderson’s roasted woodcock, and Hermé’s white truffle macarons, to name but a few. The place I made a b-line for when I returned was Kiss, for a light and restorative meal to bring back my balance. What better praise can I give them? It is not cheap, no good sushi can possibly be, but not terribly expensive either. When I go alone, the bill comes to around 50-60 or so, sans tip, with one other person it is often at least twice that.

I maybe a bit un pc here but the thought of inexpensive sushi scares the bejeezuz out of me. Well that and the sushi boat thingy.

Hing Lung, Broadway and Stockton. Their spoons and bowls are something sticky. But their Jok is worth the risk--plus, no organism is going to survive the hot-as-molten-lava bowl of Jok anyhow.

I'm glad you like it. You're even more of a Thai Northerner than I am so I'm happy you approve of my version. I have grown quite suspicious of David Thompson's book after Simon and I had a disastrous meal at Nahm a few weeks ago in London. It was not simply bad but thoroughly disappointing. I don't usually complain about the size of dinner bills but that 200 pounds we spent was a real waste (for two set dinners, some desserts and a bottle of wine for 50 quid). If you had one of khun Kasama's books I would probably go with her recipes instead. PS.Here is my review of Nahm in case you're interested.

The Khao Soi's recipe is now on my blog. Take a look at it if you're interested. cheers, Pim

I'm not entirely sure that "Delicious Gourmet Meal delivery" is not internally inconsistent, but Waiters on Wheels will deliver just about anything.

I had a lovely lunch today at Zuni—it reminded me how much I like lunching there. I was having one of those days when I simply couldn’t really focus and get anything done so I just gave up and took the afternoon off. I ended up at Zuni and got a nice table by the window. It was a perfect San Francisco afternoon, Zuni’s bar area where I sat was airy, drenched with light and just crowded enough to not feel lonely but sparse enough to still be able to pretend you’re in your own space. I decided on some oysters, a starter of house-cured anchovies, and the famous Caesar’s salad. I had an Olympia from Washington, and Kumamoto and flat oyster from Hog Island. They are all great but the Hog Island flat oyster was particularly fabulous. Zuni remains the best place to have oysters in town in my opinion, unless you’re willing to crack them open on your own (which I’m not particularly fond of doing), in which case the Hog Island stand at the farmer’s market would be. The house cured anchovies were great--briny and sweet, the perfect middle ground between the dark oil-packed anchovies and the vinegary Spanish cured anchovies. The anchovies were served with Manchego cheese, nicoise olives and thinly sliced pieces of celery, all doused in olive oil and sprinkled with cracked black pepper. Each bite of the briny anchovy with a bit of the salty and creamy cheese and fresh crunch of the celery made for a wonderful flavor and texture combination. Then the salad arrived. What can I say about the salad? I know a lot of people thought it was overrated, but I’ve always loved it. It definitely is the perfect ceasar’s salad in my opinion, freshly done, ample anchovies, and oh, simply perfect. I am biased, what can I say? I had a glass of Semillon that was rather pleasant but nothing to wax poetic about. For desserts, I decided on a tart of Roysum plum which was served with vanilla ice cream. The tart was delicious, nice balance of sweetness and acidity, and the crust was fabulously buttery and flaky. I was less impressed by the ice cream, which was obviously not homemade and left pretty much the whole scoop untouched. I would have preferred a simple whipped cream with the tart rather than the slightly mediocre ice cream. I ordered a pot of Assam tea to accompany the dessert. I should have known better than to order tea in restaurants, they are almost always mediocre, either over brewed or bad quality leaves. The leaves weren’t so bad here actually, but my waitress used far too large a quantity of leaves in such a tiny pot, the tea ended up bitter and over-brewed. Oh well. The bill came to be just about 50$ without the tip (I also had a bottle of Panna). It was a bit of an indulgence for lunch, but the room was very pleasant, the service very friendly, and I was perfectly happy with the meal. On the way home I walked by the tiny shop Yum and decided to stop by. Every time I go there I tell myself I should go there more often. It is really a lovely shop, the selection a bit sparse but well chosen. I left with a jar of fleur de sel of which I am almost out, and a small jar each of sourwood honey and tupelo honey. They are both by the Savannah Bee Co. and are raw and unfiltered. The Tupelo honey is light gold in color, tastes buttery and mild, with a very strong floral note at the end that is a bit stronger than Jean-paul Couto’s Acacia I brought back from Paris. The Sourwood honey is stronger, amber in color, and is absolutely delicious. The taste is a bit like burnt caramel with an ever so slight bitter edge at the end. I can’t wait to have some tomorrow with my Strauss yogurt.

Kao Soi, do you mean this: I just made one a week or two ago and wrote down the recipe as someone on another site asked for it. I will PM the recipe if anyone wants it. When I make Kao Soi at home I use chinese egg noodles, the ones you find at any chiness markets. Anna, perhaps the problem you have with the noodle is not the quality, but how you cook it. The chinese egg noodle (Bah-mi) is packed with so much starch to keep the strands separated that you need to rinse it before cooking (for just a minute or two) in boiling water. cheers, Pim

Nam-sod, Kao-tod (Nam Pork Salad and Fried Rice Patties) Kao-tod (rice patties) 1 T galangal, finely chopped 1 tsp dried chili, soaked in warm water for 15 minutes then seeded and finely chopped 3 T lemongrass, finely chopped 3 T shallots, finely chopped 2 T garlic, finely chopped 2 c cooked jasmine rice 2 T fish sauce 1 egg Nam-sod (Nam Pork) 4 T finely chopped garlic (about 10 cloves) 1 lb ground pork 2 oz pork skin, boiled for 10 minutes then sliced very thin 1/2 c cooked jasmine rice 2 tsp salt To finish the salad 1/3 c shallots, finely sliced 3 T cilantro, chopped 1 T green onion, finely sliced 1/2 c young ginger, julienned 3 T lime juice, or to taste 1/2 c of peanuts 10 dried chilies 2 T fish sauce 2 more limes, each cut into six slivers Making Kao-tod Pound the galangal, dried chili, lemongrass, shallots and garlic together into a fine paste. This is best done in a mortar and pestle. You could use a blender, but do not add any water, otherwise your rice patties will splatter during the frying. In a medium bowl, mash the herb paste, rice, egg, and fish sauce together by hand. Cover and set aside for later. The Kao-tod should not be fried up too long before serving as they will become soggy. Making Nam-sod Pound the garlic into a fine paste. In a large bowl, use your hand to forcefully mash together the garlic, ground pork, pork skin, jasmine rice, and salt. Knead the mixture a bit to build up gluten which gives the Nam a nice structure. Roll the ingredients into about 10 equal size balls. Steam the Nam balls for about 10 minutes or until just cooked. Do not over-cook them as the salad will be dry. Make-ahead note: You can make both Kao-tod and Nam-sod up to one day ahead. Follow the recipe to finish the salad before serving. To finish the salad: First you prepare the Kao-tod. Pat the Kao-tod mixture into patties, each about 3 inches in diameter and ¾ inch thick. Fry these in hot oil until golden brown. Set aside. Quickly fry the 10-15 dried chilies, only for 10 seconds or so, until crisp. Be careful not to let them turn too brown. In a large bowl, break up the Nam balls and mix in the lime juice and fish sauce. You can serve the salad two ways a) mix all the ingredients together, garnishing with the Kao-tod, fried chili and slivers of lime. b) on a large plate, put the Nam-sod in the middle. Arrange the rest of the ingredients around the Nam-sod and let your guest mix their own salad at the table Keywords: Thai, eGCI ( RG765 )

Nam-sod, Kao-tod (Nam Pork Salad and Fried Rice Patties) Kao-tod (rice patties) 1 T galangal, finely chopped 1 tsp dried chili, soaked in warm water for 15 minutes then seeded and finely chopped 3 T lemongrass, finely chopped 3 T shallots, finely chopped 2 T garlic, finely chopped 2 c cooked jasmine rice 2 T fish sauce 1 egg Nam-sod (Nam Pork) 4 T finely chopped garlic (about 10 cloves) 1 lb ground pork 2 oz pork skin, boiled for 10 minutes then sliced very thin 1/2 c cooked jasmine rice 2 tsp salt To finish the salad 1/3 c shallots, finely sliced 3 T cilantro, chopped 1 T green onion, finely sliced 1/2 c young ginger, julienned 3 T lime juice, or to taste 1/2 c of peanuts 10 dried chilies 2 T fish sauce 2 more limes, each cut into six slivers Making Kao-tod Pound the galangal, dried chili, lemongrass, shallots and garlic together into a fine paste. This is best done in a mortar and pestle. You could use a blender, but do not add any water, otherwise your rice patties will splatter during the frying. In a medium bowl, mash the herb paste, rice, egg, and fish sauce together by hand. Cover and set aside for later. The Kao-tod should not be fried up too long before serving as they will become soggy. Making Nam-sod Pound the garlic into a fine paste. In a large bowl, use your hand to forcefully mash together the garlic, ground pork, pork skin, jasmine rice, and salt. Knead the mixture a bit to build up gluten which gives the Nam a nice structure. Roll the ingredients into about 10 equal size balls. Steam the Nam balls for about 10 minutes or until just cooked. Do not over-cook them as the salad will be dry. Make-ahead note: You can make both Kao-tod and Nam-sod up to one day ahead. Follow the recipe to finish the salad before serving. To finish the salad: First you prepare the Kao-tod. Pat the Kao-tod mixture into patties, each about 3 inches in diameter and ¾ inch thick. Fry these in hot oil until golden brown. Set aside. Quickly fry the 10-15 dried chilies, only for 10 seconds or so, until crisp. Be careful not to let them turn too brown. In a large bowl, break up the Nam balls and mix in the lime juice and fish sauce. You can serve the salad two ways a) mix all the ingredients together, garnishing with the Kao-tod, fried chili and slivers of lime. b) on a large plate, put the Nam-sod in the middle. Arrange the rest of the ingredients around the Nam-sod and let your guest mix their own salad at the table Keywords: Thai, eGCI ( RG765 )

Massaman Nuea (Beef Massaman Curry) This recipe looks daunting, but I promise it will be the best Massaman Curry you have ever tasted. Even if you opt for the canned paste rather than using this recipe, the process of marinating and simmering the beef in coconut milk and the addition of spice during the cooking will improve the taste dramatically Massaman Paste 15 medium pieces of dried chili, soaked, seeded, chopped 1/4 c sliced garlic 1/3 c sliced shallots 1 T lemongrass, chopped 1 tsp cumin seeds 1 tsp white pepper 1 tsp coriander seeds 1 tsp galangal, peeled, chopped 1 tsp kaffir lime zest 1 tsp cilantro roots, scraped, chopped 1 T salt 1 tsp shrimp paste, roasted Beef and Marinade 1 kg beef (I use the Chuck cut) 1 tsp ginger, julienned 2 c coconut milk* 2 T fish sauce To finish the curry 2 T oil 2 c coconut cream* 1 T whole cardamom 1 inch piece of cinnamon 150 g peanuts 5 whole shallots, peeled 1/4 c palm sugar 1 T tamarind, mixed with 1/3 cup warm water and strained 2 T fish sauce First you marinate the beef: Cut the beef into large chunks and marinate them in the coconut milk and julienned ginger. Set aside for at least 30 minutes before proceeding to the next step. Simmer the beef chunks in the marinade in for another half an hour. Next you pound the curry paste: (Note: This step is optional. You could just skip it if you opted for a commercial canned version. The resulting Massaman won't be as good, of course, but still quite acceptable.) While the beef is simmering, grind all the Masaman paste ingredients together in a blender until the paste resembles a fine puree. You can add a little water to the paste if it became too thick to be processed. Take care not to add too much water or the paste will create a nasty splash when cooked. Now you make the curry Heat up a large wok or sautee pan with 2 Tbsp oil, add the massaman paste and cook for a few minutes, stirring vigorously. Add a cup of the coconut cream to the pan and cook, stirring frequently, until the paste is completely dissolved into the coconut cream. Let the mixture bubble for a few minutes until a layer of oil begins to separate from the mixture. Add the rest of the coconut cream and let it bubble away for another few minutes until the oil begins to separate again. Add the whole cardamoms, shallots, peanuts, palm sugar, tamarind water, and fish sauce. Add the contents of the beef pan, and continue to simmer until the beef is tender. Be careful not to let the curry boil too vigorously at this stage or the coconut cream will curdle. Just let the pot simmer gently until the beef is tender. Check the seasoning before turning off the stove. The taste should be spicy (not too hot, but very spicy), salty, sweet, with an ever-so- slightly sour aftertaste, in this order. Do not let it be cloyingly sweet. Serve with freshly steamed Thai jasmine rice, or Naan bread. Keywords: Thai, eGCI ( RG757 )

Massaman Nuea (Beef Massaman Curry) This recipe looks daunting, but I promise it will be the best Massaman Curry you have ever tasted. Even if you opt for the canned paste rather than using this recipe, the process of marinating and simmering the beef in coconut milk and the addition of spice during the cooking will improve the taste dramatically Massaman Paste 15 medium pieces of dried chili, soaked, seeded, chopped 1/4 c sliced garlic 1/3 c sliced shallots 1 T lemongrass, chopped 1 tsp cumin seeds 1 tsp white pepper 1 tsp coriander seeds 1 tsp galangal, peeled, chopped 1 tsp kaffir lime zest 1 tsp cilantro roots, scraped, chopped 1 T salt 1 tsp shrimp paste, roasted Beef and Marinade 1 kg beef (I use the Chuck cut) 1 tsp ginger, julienned 2 c coconut milk* 2 T fish sauce To finish the curry 2 T oil 2 c coconut cream* 1 T whole cardamom 1 inch piece of cinnamon 150 g peanuts 5 whole shallots, peeled 1/4 c palm sugar 1 T tamarind, mixed with 1/3 cup warm water and strained 2 T fish sauce First you marinate the beef: Cut the beef into large chunks and marinate them in the coconut milk and julienned ginger. Set aside for at least 30 minutes before proceeding to the next step. Simmer the beef chunks in the marinade in for another half an hour. Next you pound the curry paste: (Note: This step is optional. You could just skip it if you opted for a commercial canned version. The resulting Massaman won't be as good, of course, but still quite acceptable.) While the beef is simmering, grind all the Masaman paste ingredients together in a blender until the paste resembles a fine puree. You can add a little water to the paste if it became too thick to be processed. Take care not to add too much water or the paste will create a nasty splash when cooked. Now you make the curry Heat up a large wok or sautee pan with 2 Tbsp oil, add the massaman paste and cook for a few minutes, stirring vigorously. Add a cup of the coconut cream to the pan and cook, stirring frequently, until the paste is completely dissolved into the coconut cream. Let the mixture bubble for a few minutes until a layer of oil begins to separate from the mixture. Add the rest of the coconut cream and let it bubble away for another few minutes until the oil begins to separate again. Add the whole cardamoms, shallots, peanuts, palm sugar, tamarind water, and fish sauce. Add the contents of the beef pan, and continue to simmer until the beef is tender. Be careful not to let the curry boil too vigorously at this stage or the coconut cream will curdle. Just let the pot simmer gently until the beef is tender. Check the seasoning before turning off the stove. The taste should be spicy (not too hot, but very spicy), salty, sweet, with an ever-so- slightly sour aftertaste, in this order. Do not let it be cloyingly sweet. Serve with freshly steamed Thai jasmine rice, or Naan bread. Keywords: Thai, eGCI ( RG757 )

Pad Kee Mao is “drunken noodle” as “Kee Mao” means a drunk in Thai. A lot of dishes as so called “kee mao” because we Thais believe that certain spicy dishes are good with alcohol. Pad kee mao ingredients: meat (chicken, beef, shrimps, etc.), oil, some garlic and chilli chopped together, fish sauce, a tiny pinch of sugar, a wee bit of Chinese dark soy sauce (optional), egg (optional, most likely none), a big handful of Bai Krapow (holy basil) and kway teo (flat rice noodles). Also optional, onions, bell peppers, and other vegetables (Americanized version). Into a very hot wok or large sautéed pan goes the oil, then the garlic and chillis, stirring very vigorously to avoid burning them. As soon as you can smell the garlic, throw in the meat, stir a couple times, then add fish sauce (and dark soy sauce) and a pinch of sugar, stirring again vigorously too cook the meat. When the meat is almost done, stir in the noodles, keep flipping, then at the last minute add the basil. Pad see ewe ingredients: meat, oil, some chopped garlic, Chinese dark soy sauce, Chinese broccoli, fish sauce, egg, a biggish pinch of sugar, and kway teo. Pad see ewe is made with pretty much the same method. As for the noodle, your best bet is to find fresh, unrefrigerated ones, though I’ve once had to use the noodles that had been previously refrigerated. I found that steaming them first helped me to loosen the sheets.

I am a not a pro by any means, but I would call myself a somewhat skilled amateur baker. What I find interesting is the trajectory I’ve gone through in terms of which pastry books or what type of recipe I have found useful over the years. When I began to bake a few years ago, I found recipes and books with a lot of tricks and special instructions very useful. I used books like The Pastry Bible, The Cooks Bible, The Best Recipes, and actually used recipes from Cooks Illustrated which had me add egg yolks that have been passed through a fine sieve in my biscuits!! I relished recipes that asked for special things, like yoghurt in muffins, cider vinegar in pie crusts, etc, believing that they would guarantee my success. The actual success rate, of course, varied. Now that I feel quite comfortable with my baking skills, I find that I couldn’t be bothered with those finicky recipes any more. I’m no longer willing to buy buttermilk or keep my cider vinegar chilled just to add to my pie crust. The recipes I use now are simple. The pie crust contains flour, butter, water, salt, that’s it! And the type of books I now go for has changed. I have one book I used for basic recipes such as various pâtes, génoise, meringue, etc. The book I use most often is Larousse des Desserts by Pierre Hermé. The other recipe books I use mostly for inspiration, for new combination of tastes, texture, etc. I always go to my old trusted génoise recipe or pie crust recipe rather than following what the other authors provided.

Hey Jason, I'm bringing my satays and peanut sauce to the eG California potluck at Maureen's. Why don't you come on over so you could try some. Pim

The subject of Royal Thai Cuisine is a big one that I don’t think I can really cover here, especially considering I just staggered back to my hotel from a huge meal at the New Tayyab in Whitechapel and it’s almost 3am in London. I’ll give a short answer here and will return to it when I get home next week. There is a Royal Thai style of cuisine, and it is distinguished from the commoner style by the quality of ingredients and the care put into the preparing and serving of the food. In general that means much more than just presentation, but include the complexity of the recipes and preparation as well. There are dishes that are rarely seen in common restaurants. There are sometimes a commoner version of the same dish, that usually involves less ingredients and short cuts in preparation. For example, Kanom Bueng, a crispy rice flour “crèpe” topped with Foy Tong (golden strands) and shredded coconut. The commoner version can be seen at any open market. The Royal version, however, is rarely seen these days except in Patrician households. The same goes with Kao Chae, which is the cold and fragrant rice soup served with many different sides, a definitely a Royal dish that is also rarely seen. There are restaurants that serve it but usually in a watered down version, as the royal recipes are much too complicated to be profitable in a restaurant. Many of the royal style recipes ask for ingredients that are absurdly indulgent, like a dish made of only “Jamook Hoy” or the little tentacle like piece of meat that stick out of a clam. To get a sufficient quantity for the dish you would need hundreds of clams. I’ve also noticed that common curries are definitely thinner than the properly made ones, for economic reason I presume. Coconut milk is somewhat expensive and time consuming to produce so it would make sense that street side shops make curries that are thinned somewhat by water. Another thing that distinguishes Royal (or Patrician) style of Thai food from the commoner one is the care that goes into the balancing of taste, texture, and variety. This is perhaps a matter of economics as well.