thaied in knots

Last night's triumphant red Thai curry came with the premier of my coconut rice. I have always wanted to make this and am now kicking myself that I took so long to find a recipe: it is so devilishly easy I could do it every day.

I decided to make enough for four as (a) I hate having a skerrick of something left in a packet in the cupboard and (b) I always have uses for fridge left-overs.

This was the happiest of choices.

Today was so beautifully hot, and the coconut rice was on my mind, that I came to crave some Thai salads. Larb moo took over my head around lunchtime and immediately I thought of a comment I had read last night about Som Tam.

A quick search revealed several Thai restaurants near our flat, and the gent and I went to check out the menus. I rejected one outright ("No Larb!" "Let's just ask inside" "But... no Larb!") then caved to the gent's pained patient-face at the second. There was indeed no Larb moo as they had no pork, but they offered to make a duck version instead "is it still ... (rubbing my fingers to suggest mince, in a strange improvised sign-language).... spicy?" I asked anxiously. They made sure it was.

So Som tam - for those at the back - is a green papaya salad, shredded up with a few other vegetables to look no more exciting than coleslaw. The taste-nirvana lies in the astringent, spicy, aromatic, fresh dressing. It has the exotic 'otherness' of an un-English flavour: something one has never tasted before, which is so rare in adulthood*. A few years back, fish sauce took me a little while to become accustomed to, and right after, I became addicted. Som tam is an extension of that addiction.

The Larb is heaven-on-a-plate for similar reasons: the same fresh, spicy, aromatic taste in pork or chicken mince, then served in lettuce leaves. I was bursting with pride over how good the coconut rice tasted with these two salads (and a little re-vamped red curry on the side), but the real treat was seeing how excited the gent was by these flavours, too.

I fully accept (ahem, Mother) that saying 'lettuce with mince' gives a somewhat cold and creepy image if you haven't quite got your tongue round the idea. But give it a go: if I can be converted from my ingrained, peasanty suet pudding ways, then I am sure anyone can.




*I will concede: maybe this only applies to a late starter like me. But heck, I'm having more fun because of it!