Recipe of the year: Rick Stein's Hanoi chicken noodle soup with bok choi

My knowledge of Vietnamese food does not extend much beyond the pho joints along the strip in Richmond, Melbourne, Australia. But what you get there is a vast basin of rice noodles in a steaming, clean, delicately flavoured soup, topped with meat, chicken, or sometimes both, and enough bean shoots, lemon, chilli, Vietnamese basil and mint garnishes on the side to make a meal in itself. It is invariably good, and always cheap. Wouldn't it be great to be able to make pho here in Japan, where Vietnamese food is often so-so and invariably expensive??

I found a fantastic-sounding recipe on Andrea Nguyen's brilliant Vietnamese food blog way back, but it looked like it might be a weekend project, and I never quite got round to it. There is a recipe for beef pho in Les Huynh's Blue Ginger: The Colours and Flavours of Asia, but it calls for about 2 kg of beef, which seems a little extravagant, at least when you live in Japan. So you can imagine how happy I was so happy to find a Vietnamese chicken noodle recipe from Rick Stein that could be made in roughly an hour (most of which is waiting for the chicken to cool). If you've been reading along, you'll know that I am quite enamoured of late with Rick's work on Asian cuisines. And this recipe is a real corker. In fact, it made such an impression on me that I'm naming it my recipe of the year!

I have adapted Rick's recipe, which was for a Hanoi-style bowl-of-joy, to make it more closely resemble the "true" Melbourne pho experience. Thus, basil is in and coriander leaves out (in deference to the Young Man). I left the bok choi in, and like this addition. Also, Rick had 300 g of rice noodles feeding 6 people. I think 100 g per person is maybe more like it, and, with Japanese-sized ramen bowls, I reckon the broth is enough for 4. We might just be greedy, though (g). Certainly, we did have some chicken left over, but that is never a problem, is it?

The excerpt of Rick Stein's Far Eastern Odyssey where I found the recipe did not give instructions for nuoc cham, that delicious all-purpose Vietnamese sauce that will take your bowl of soup right into the stratosphere. I use the one in Les' Blue Ginger, above, minus the water in this instance, as it is to go into soup. Nuoc cham explodes on the tongue with every taste sensation. Use more or less chilli and garlic to suit your taste. Note that this portion of the recipe uses Australian tablespoons which are 20 ml, or 1 non-Australian tbsp plus 1 tsp. You will probably have some left over. Which would be a great excuse for making this.

Hanoi chicken noodle soup with bok choi

Serves 4

A 1.2 kg chicken
25 g peeled ginger, coarsely chopped
12 spring onions, trimmed and halved
20 g garlic, sliced (around 5 cloves)
2 star anise
10 cm cinnamon stick
20 g dried shrimp
1/2 tsp black peppercorns
450 g bok choi [Saffron: in Japan, 2 packets of chingensai]
400 g 1 cm-wide flat rice noodles [S: I used a thinner variety]
4 tbsp fish sauce

Garnishes
100 g bean shoots
Large handful basil
20 g mint leaves
1 small red chilli, sliced very thinly [optional]
Lemon quarters

Nuoc cham to serve (Note: 1 tbsp = 20 ml)
2 long red chillies, deseeded and roughly chopped [or to taste]
1 garlic clove, peeled
1 tbsp shaved palm sugar
2 tbsp lime juice
3 tbsp fish sauce
1 tbsp rice vinegar

(3 tbsp water)

1 Put the chicken, ginger, 8 of the spring onions, garlic, star anise, cinnamon, dried shrimp, peppercorns and 1/2 tsp salt into a deep pan in which the chicken fits quite snugly. Cover with 2 l of water. Bring to the boil, skimming off any scum as it rises, then lower the heat, cover and leave to gently simmer for 20 min. Turn off the heat and leave to cool for 40 min.

2 Separate the stalks from the leaves of the bok choi and finely shred them lengthways. Cut the leaves across into 3 cm-wide pieces. Slice the remaining 4 spring onions finely.

3 Lift the cooled chicken onto a plate and leave to cool. Drain the stock into a clean pan and discard all the flavourings except the shrimp. Skin the chicken, pull the meat from the bones and break it into chunky pieces.

4 Meanwhile, make nuoc cham. Pound chillies and garlic into a smooth paste with a mortar and pestle. Place in a clean jar and add remaining ingredients. Put the lid on and shake until well blended. Nuoc cham will keep in the fridge for around a week.

5 Bring a pan of unsalted water to the boil. Add the noodles, turn off the heat, cover and leave to soak for 10 min or until tender.

6 Bring the stock back to the boil, add the bok choi stalks and simmer for 2 min, add the bok choi leaves and cook for a further 2 min. Then stir in the fish sauce.

7 Drain the noodles and divide among 4 large, deep noodle bowls. Top with cooked chicken, bean shoots, reserved shrimp, remaining spring onions, basil and mint leaves. Ladle the steaming hot broth and bok choi over the top and serve with the nuoc cham, lemon quarters and chilli on the side.

Enjoy!

Chef Wan's Malaysian prawn and noodle salad

Though he'd not been on my radar before then, Rick Stein was suddenly everywhere this summer.

This recipe is from an excerpt from Rick Stein's Far Eastern Odyssey in the September 2009 edition of Sainsbury's Magazine, which I picked up at a Sainsbury's supermarket in Glasgow during our trip. And what a great magazine it is! It was 1.40 GBP (around 210 yen) and chock full of recipes from my favourite British food writers. The only let down for me was seeing Diana Henry, who was so instrumental in sparking this global food journey I'm on with Crazy Water Pickled Lemons, spruiking the supermarket's wares. Still, we gotta do what we gotta do, I suppose. Incidentally, it is actually possible to subscribe to SM, though they don't make their subscription site easy to find. For Japan, it's 59 GBP for 12 issues (1 year). Tempting, very tempting...

But back to this recipe. It can be summed up in two words: Easy and Yum! It's a no-brainer.

You will need some Thai/Malaysian groceries, though, so plan ahead. I didn't have any dried shrimp, the last lot having been forgotten at the back of the fridge and looking slightly dodgy. I substituted prawn/shrimp paste. This is probably the less easy to find ingredient, but I'm all about weird ingredients. A little goes a long way. If you seek it out, you'll know from the aroma coming from the sealed jar whether it is going to be for you. Now that I've opened mine, I suppose I'll need to buy that Thai cookbook I've been lusting over... (G)

This substitution, plus the reduction in the chilli I had to make in order to feed this to the Young Man, made my sauce more like a soup. It tasted fab anyway, but next time I will deseed the tomatoes and see how that goes.

Chef Wan's Malaysian prawn and noodle salad

125 g dried rice noodles
few drops vegetable oil
300 g large, cooked prawns [Saffron: for preference; I used smaller ones]
1 medium onion, thinly sliced
large handful of mixed coriander leaves, mint leaves and chives, torn
100 g roasted peanuts, coarsely chopped
1 stem lemongrass, outer leaves removed and core finely chopped
juice of 2 limes
3 tbsp Thai fish sauce

For the sauce
1 red chilli, deseeded and thinly sliced
2 fat cloves garlic, roughly chopped
1/2 tsp Thai prawn paste [S: in lieu of 25 g dried shrimp, soaked in hot water for 30 min], optional
3 ripe tomatoes, deseeded and sliced
4 tbsp palm sugar

1 Bring a pan of unsalted water to the boil. Meanwhile, put the ingredients for the sauce into a food processor or blender and grind, using the pulse button, into a coarse, wet paste [S: it will be more like a soup if you follow my method].

2 Drop the noodles into the pan of boiling water, remove from the heat and leave to soak for 1 1/2 min, or until just tender. [The timing will depend on the thickness of the noodles.] Don't overcook them as they will soften a little more in the salad later on. Drain and refresh under cold water. Toss with a few drops of vegetable oil to stop the strands sticking together, then leave in a colander to drain really well.

3 Put the cooked noodles into a bowl and add the sauce, followed by the other ingredients one by one, mixing them briefly before adding the next, easing the noodle strands apart as you do so, as they have a tendency to stick together in one clump. Serve immediately.

Enjoy!

Chilled tan-tan men

I've decided not to continue with my cooking classes at ABC Cooking Studio, despite quite a bit of arm-twisting in March, when they wanted me to sign up for an additional year of their new offerings, without first telling us what those might be. I think I made the right decision, as it turns out that the Japanese dish offerings, which were my main reason for taking the classes to begin with, would be reduced, and those they did present would tend to be of a more basic nature. That's the reason I didn't take a class in June, and why I am taking two this month to finish off the last of my prepaid lessons before they expire at the end of the month.

As it turns out, ABC are doing chilled tan-tan men, something I would really like to have done, NEXT month. Typical, really (g). Never fear. I had a look round the net for a recipe, and found the one I translated below on a fan site for the Japanese TV program Danshi Gohan (meals for men).

If you've been reading along, you'll know that I've already featured one recipe for tan-tan men, that great Japanese take on a spicy mince-topped noodle dish from Sichuan, China, on S&L. This recipe is a totally different beast, and not just because it is chilled (a popular presentation for noodles in the hot and sticky Japanese summer). Unlike the earlier version, sesame is quite predominant in this recipe. In seed, oil and paste form!

Highly nutritious, sesame is used extensively in Japanese cooking. There are white and black versions of both seeds and paste. White ones are used in this recipe. If you can't get Japanese sesame paste (or Chinese zhima jiang), you can always substitute tahini. The taste will be slightly different as, unlike the Japanese version, tahini is made from un-toasted sesame seeds. It will still be delicious, I promise.

Negi (Japanese leeks) and nira (garlic chives) may also be problematic sourcing in other countries. Western leeks are not a good substitute for negi, but at a pinch, you could use the white innermost core (Japanese leeks are only around 2 cm in diameter), or substitute finely sliced spring onions. Nira is not absolutely essential, you could easily garnish with some nice cooked spinach or bok choi, more spring onions or any other green thing you fancy.

The soup in this rendering strikes just the right balance between lightness and flavour for a summer's dish. The flavour comes from a shelfful of lovely condiments. If you don't make a lot of Japanese or Chinese food, you might not have some of these, but they are all pretty much staples in any Japanese kitchen. Just in case, you'll definitely want to read the recipe before attempting this!

Also, the recipe is for two, so don't forget to scale up if you've got more mouths to feed. Oh, and this makes a great lunch the next day. I took the cooked noodles-and-meat topping and soup in separate (leak proof!) containers and supped contentedly, catching up on news of the new Iranian revolution, at my desk at work.

Chilled tan-tan men

Serves 2

2 single-serve packs of fresh Chinese noodles

For the soup
500 ml cold water
3 tbsp white sesame paste (or tahini)
2 tbsp toasted white sesame seeds, roughly ground
1.5 tbsp EACH miso paste, oyster sauce, rice vinegar
1 tbsp EACH sugar, sesame oil, soy sauce
1-2 tsp tobanjan (douban jiang in Chinese) or other chilli-garlic paste, or to taste (optional)

For the meat topping
120 g minced pork
10 cm negi Japanese leek, very finely diced [S: or 2 tbsp finely sliced spring onions]
2 cloves garlic, very finely diced
1 knob fresh ginger, as big as your thumb, very finely diced
0.5 tbsp sesame oil
1-2 tbsp toasted white sesame seeds, roughly ground
1 tbsp EACH cooking sake, soy sauce and oyster sauce
Salt and pepper

To serve
Nira (garlic chives), snipped
Rayu (layou in Chinese) chilli oil

1. Prepare the soup. Mix white sesame paste, lightly ground sesame seeds, and miso paste in a large bowl, then gradually add the water, stirring until well blended. Add remaining soup ingredients and stir well. Check the seasoning, and adjust if necessary. Cover with cling wrap and refrigerate until needed.

2 Heat sesame oil in a frying pan over medium heat. Stir-fry the Japanese leek, ginger and garlic until soft. Add the minced pork and break up with a wooden spoon. Once browned all over, add the sake, then the soy sauce, oyster sauce and lightly ground white sesame seeds. Check the seasoning and add salt and pepper to taste.

3 Bring a large pot of water to the boil and cook the noodles according to the package directions (typically for 1.5-2 minutes), drain and plunge immediately into ice cold water to cool.

4 Once cool, drain the noodles and arrange in two large noodle bowls. Pour half of the soup into each bowl, top with half the meat topping and garnish with garlic chives.

Enjoy!

Warm glass noodles with edamame

Life events have overtaken me lately and I've not been very inspired in the kitchen. In fact, I even lost my sense of taste for a while. Bad times, indeed. But like the gambling addict who always thinks his next big win is "just round the corner," I am determined to stay in the game!

Luckily for me, this Ottolenghi recipe from the Guardian caught my eye and I think I may have turned that corner at last.

Edamame, you say; from a Middle Eastern food specialist?! Well why not? The recipe is touted as Japanese-inspired on the Guardian site, but in reality, edamame, or young green soy beans, is the only Japanese influence. What really makes it is the blend of lip-smacking Southeast Asian flavours--galangal/ginger, tamarind and garlic--in the sauce. (You'll see from the photo above that I omitted the red chilli, but only out of respect for the Young Man's palate.)

This is a breeze to make, or rather it would be if you don't have to pod your edamame before you start. Here in Japan, edamame are a summertime treat served chilled in their pods after a light boiling and salting. Perfect with the big jugs of beer that are so popular here in the dog days of summer. Those days being far from nigh, I contented myself with frozen edamame, still in the pods. You'll want to defrost them in water before even attempting to extract the tasty green beans inside, so make sure to get them out of the freezer in good time (I'd pop them in the fridge in the morning before going to work next time). Having a YM in the house usually expedites such mundane but essential processes as podding, but in this case my YM was otherwise engaged with his studies.

I took Yotam Ottolenghi's advice about boosting this with some yaki dofu, or extra-firm tofu that's been grilled, giving it a lovely colour. This kind of tofu, if well drained (by placing a plate or other weight on top of it for about 10 minutes), stands up really well to stir-frying. You'll need to break it up a bit before you put it in the pan. I found that I didn't have enough sauce to really flavour the tofu (which really sucks up the flavours), and added some Thai fish sauce to compensate. Even making it more substantial with the tofu, you'll probably want another side dish or two to make this a meal.

Ottolenghi's warm glass noodles with edamame

Serves four

250g glass or cellophane noodles
1 pack firm tofu such as yaki dofu
2 tbsp sunflower oil
3 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed
300g (net weight) cooked edamame beans, podded
3 spring onions, including the green parts, thinly sliced
1 fresh red chilli, finely chopped
3 tbsp coriander [cilantro] leaves, chopped, plus a few whole leaves for garnish
3 tbsp mint leaves, shredded
3 tbsp sesame seeds, toasted

For the sauce
2 tbsp grated galangal (or ginger)
4 limes, juiced
3 tbsp groundnut oil
2 tbsp palm sugar
2 tsp tamarind paste
1 tsp Tamari soy sauce
1 tsp fine sea salt

1 Soak the noodles in a bowl of hot water until soft - about five minutes. Be careful not to leave them in the water for too long because they can go soggy. Strain and leave to dry.

2 In a small bowl, whisk together all the sauce ingredients and set aside.

3 Heat the oil in a large frying pan or a wok and add the garlic (and drained tofu, if using). As it starts to turn golden, remove the pan from the heat and add the sauce and noodles. Gently mix together, add most of the edamame, the onions, chilli and fresh herbs. Stir while you return the pan to the heat for a few seconds, just to heat through, taste and add salt if you like.

4 Pile up the noodles on a large platter or in a shallow bowl, scatter over the reserved edamame and the sesame seeds, and garnish with the whole coriander leaves. You can also serve the dish at room temperature, in which case adjust the seasoning just before you do so.

Enjoy!

The YM's favourites 3: Tan tan men: Noodles in a vibrant Szechuan pepper sauce

I've mentioned before that I am not a huge fan of ramen, or Japanese noodles in soup. I'm just not that into carbs, and you get very little by way of vegetables.

However, I am partial to tan tan men, the Japanese way with an originally Chinese noodle dish called dan dan mien. It is noodles in a ginger, garlic and spring onion soup whose top note is the eucalyptus-y Szechuan pepper, all topped with (normally spicy mince) and some Chinese greens.

When searching for a recipe online, I found out that the Chinese version is not soupy at all. In fact, I could not find a recipe for the version we know and love in this country, but this one (adapted from this recipe) is very tasty and the Young Man made a special requested, only with MORE SOUP this time!

You'll be doing a bit of fine chopping of garlic and ginger with this one. This is most easily achieved by cutting the garlic (or ginger) into fine slices, then lining them up like a deck of cards spread horizontally on a magician's table (i.e. with the "cards" slightly overlapping each other), and slicing along the row to create fine sticks, then turning the sticks (or the chopping board, even) around and slicing them into fine dice. If the dice are too big, just have at them with the knife again.

In the original recipe, the mince is deep fried to give it a dry finish. You can achieve the same result by frying the meat in a hot, dry pan until the fat has evaporated (this takes around 10 minutes, so be patient (g)). I picked up this technique from the dry Japanese mince dish soboro.

This dish is supposed to be spicy, but I suggest you be careful when you add the chilli oil and Szechuan pepper the first time. You can always add more if you feel it needs it.

Tan Tan Men

For 2

200 g pork mince
1 tbsp soy sauce, dark for preference
1 tsp salt (optional)
300 g egg noodles (2 bundles), fresh or dried
1 1/2 tbsp oil
3 tbsp garlic, finely chopped (around 6-8 cloves)
2 tbsp fresh ginger, finely chopped (around 4 cm ginger root)
5 tbsp spring onions, finely chopped
2 tbsp sesame paste (tahini is fine)
2 tbsp soy sauce, dark for preference
2 tbsp red chilli oil, or to taste (I use quite a bit less)
2 cups chicken stock (you may need to add more salt if using homemade stock)
1-2 tsp ground Szechuan pepper, or to taste (this has a very distinctive flavour so use a careful hand)
4-5 stems (a very small bunch) of komatsuna or spinach, cooked briefly in boiling water and cut into 4 cm lengths
1 double handful of bean sprouts, washed

1 Combine the pork, soy sauce and salt, if using, in a small bowl and mix well.

2 Heat wok or frying pan until hot and add the pork, breaking up the meat with cooking chopsticks as you go. Once the colour changes, reduce the heat to medium and continue to fry, stirring and breaking up the meat occasionally, until all the moisture has evaporated. When done, remove with a slotted spoon to a plate lined with paper towel.

3 In the same pan, heat oil until hot and add the garlic, ginger and spring onions and stir-fry for 30 seconds. Add the sesame paste, soy sauce, chilli oil, salt (if using) and chicken stock and simmer for 4 minutes. Adjust the seasoning to your taste.

4 Meanwhile, bring a large pot of water to the boil and cook the noodles for 2 minutes if fresh, or 5 minutes if dried. Drain well and divide between 2 large noodle bowls.

5 Ladle on the sauce and top with mince mixture, bean sprouts, and cooked komatsuna or spinach.

Enjoy!

Vietnamese beef and noodle salad

It was unseasonably hot the other day (27 C in early May!), but luckily I had already planned on making this yummy sounding salad recipe that I nicked from Melbourne's The Age newspaper a while back (when the weather was warmer in the southern hemisphere than it is now). It doesn't seem to be available on the Age web site any more, but you can get it, with a spiffy photo, at Cuisine.

I used the remains of a packet of Thai rice noodles instead of the mung-bean thread (glass or cellophane) noodles, soaked in hot water out of the tap. Having done some further sleuthing, I reckon I'd soak them in fresh-boiled water next time (or use the correct noodles as instructed (g)). They were a little on the crunchy side (g).

I also cooked my block of good Aussie beef (being preferable to the US stuff with Japanese consumers for the last few years due to ongoing BSE problems in the US) in the oven, as you'd never get it under our tiny grill, which is intended for fish, after all. If you do it this way, you'd want to preheat your oven to 200 C and sear the beef on all sides in an ovenproof frying pan, then bung it in the oven for around 10 minutes. Leave it to rest before carving. I thought the beef (which wasn't a fillet) was a little tough, so I might add a bit of vinegar to the hoi sin sauce marinade next time and see what happens.

Looking at the photos, I realize I inadvertently topped my version with dried Thai shrimp instead of the fried shallots. In Yokohama, both can be found at this shop.

I also didn't add the coriander, as the Young Man basically won't eat anything with it in.

Now, this was my first foray into Southeast Asian salads, and I can't believe how easy it was. The tastes are big and bold, and there's lots of different things going on texture-wise, too. This is a definite keeper, and was a nice intro into an area covered in more depth by this book, which was my last cookbook purchase from the bookshop downstairs at work before the office moved to down-town Tokyo (where downstairs is home only to swanky (read "overpriced") eateries and NO bookshops with extensive cookbook offerings (how will I survive?!). You'll be hearing more on Blue Ginger shortly, I imagine (g).

Vietnamese beef and noodle salad

Serves 4

For the salad
350g porterhouse or fillet of beef
4 tbsp hoi sin sauce
200g mung-bean thread (also called glass) noodles
1 cup each of mint, Thai basil and coriander leaves
1 Lebanese cucumber, thinly sliced
2 long red chillies, deseeded and finely sliced
4 tbsp crushed roasted peanuts
2 tbsp fried shallots

For the dressing
3-4 tbsp grated palm sugar [S: dense brown sugar is a good substitute]
juice of 2 limes
3 tbsp fish sauce
1 stick of lemon grass, white part, finely sliced

Method
Marinate the beef in the hoi sin for 2 hours. Soak the noodles in hot water until soft. Drain, rinse in cold water and cut into manageable lengths (about 10cm) [S: kitchen scissors make short work of this]. Combine the herbs, cucumber, chilli and noodles in a bowl. Combine the dressing ingredients and adjust to taste. It should taste sweet, salty and tangy all at once.

Grill the beef to medium rare and allow to rest for 5 minutes. Slice thinly and add to the salad. Toss everything together and serve on plates sprinkled with the roasted peanuts and fried shallots.

Enjoy!

A Persian New Year 3: Aash-e reshte (Iranian noodle soup with beans, spinach and fresh herbs)

There is, it seems, some controversy over the role of this filling, fresh-tasting soup in the Persian New Year celebration. On the one hand, my favourite source of wisdom on all Iranian culinary things, Najmieh Batmanglij, calls it an essential part of the No Ruz spread. Meanwhile, my dear Iranian friend M says it is really just a snack, and that fish and rice dishes are the celebration's main event.

Well, I'm not going to argue the point with an Iranian, so I'll just straddle the line, and say that it is a dish traditionally eating by some Iranians at this time of the year, and leave it at that (g).

Chock full of beans and herbs, this contains, as my dear Turkish friend Se put it, "a week's nutrition in one bowl." It certainly packs a punch in terms of flavour but, in fact, it only contains a tiny amount of spice, and turmeric, at that. The secret's all in the onions, garlic and fresh herbs.

The original recipe is (of course(g)) from Najmieh khanom's New Food of Life. I made it exactly to specification last year, but reckoned there might be a bit much spinach in it for my liking. I also thought I could speed things up a bit with the pressure cooker. Even still, you'll want to start this a couple of hours in advance of when you plan to eat it. It's another one of those Slow Food Sunday meals, then.

Just a word about the name. Aash is a kind of thick, ingredient dense Iranian soup. Reshte is noodles. The noodles, as we learn in New Food of Life, "represent the choice of paths among the many that life spreads out before us. Eating [the] tangled strands is like unraveling the Gordian knot of life's infinite possibilities in order to pick out the best." The noodles bring good luck and fortune, apparently, and aside from No Ruz, are also eaten when embarking on other new endeavours for good luck.

Interestingly, noodles are also eaten at the New Year (Dec 31/Jan 1) in Japan, in the hope that their length will bring long life to the eater. I have to say that Japanese toshi-koshi soba ("year-crossing" noodles) are far simpler to prepare than aash-e reshte, but I rather like making this dish in the early spring as well. You can never have too much New Year's luck, after all (g).

You can read more about No Ruz, and even find another of Najmieh khanom's recipes here. Since fabulous food ideas and recipes are often to be found on the NPR site, I will also add the link to my the web hangouts.

Aash-e reshte: Iranian New Year's noodle soup with beans, spinach and fresh herbs

2 tbsp olive oil
3 large onions, peeled and thinly sliced
5 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1 tsp turmeric
1/2 cup cooked red kidney beans
1/4 cup dried white beans, washed
1/4 cup dried chickpeas, washed
10-12 cups water
1 cup lentils
4 cups homemade beef bone broth [S: I used the lamb broth left over from making the Iraqi dish I made earlier; not very PC of me, I know]
200 g Persian noodles (reshte) or linguine, broken in half
1 cup coarsely chopped fresh spring onions
1 cup chopped fresh dill
2 cups coarsely chopped fresh parsley
400 g fresh spinach washed and chopped
1 1/2 cup liquid whey (kashk) or sour cream, or 1/4 cup wine vinegar [S: I substituted yogurt]

For the garnish (nana dagh)
1 onion, peeled and finely sliced
6 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tsp turmeric
4 tbsp dried mint flakes, crushed

1. Heat 2 tbsp oil in a large pressure cooker and saute the onions and garlic over medium heat. Add salt, pepper and turmeric. Add white beans and chickpeas and saute for a few minutes. Pour in 8 cups water and bring to boil, skim the froth as it forms. Put on the lid and bring to pressure, then cook on low pressure for 15 minutes (or simmer for 45 minutes in a regular pot).

2. Add lentils and beef bone stock. Bring to pressure again, and cook on low pressure for another 15 minutes (or simmer for 55 minutes). Check whether the beans are done

3. Add the noodles, chopped spring onions, dill, parsley and spinach. Simmer, stirring from time to time until the noodles are cooked (in Iran, they would be well past al dente). Add salt and pepper, and extra water if the aash is too thick.

4. Stir in the whey (or sour cream, vinegar or yogurt), saving a dollop for the garnish, and mix well with a wooden spoon.

5. To prepare the garnish (nana dagh), brown the onion and garlic in oil in a non-stick frying pan. Remove from the heat, add the turmeric and the crushed mint flakes and mix well.

6. Pour into bowls and garnish with the mint mixture and a dollop of whey (or yogurt).


Enjoy!

Pad Thai: Thai spicy noodles

Since I had a couple of hours to spare after my annual physical, I decided to hunt down a specialist Thai food shop I had sussed out on the Net (actually it was listed in the stockists section of the web site of a local cooking school. Japan-based foodies, you might want to have a look...).

I was planning on making a Thai salad for my big cook-up at the weekend and, knowing that a certain area of Isezaki-cho has a number of Thai restaurants and thinking (rightly!) that a supply shop could not be far away, I had managed to get the ingredients I was going to need. But, with 3 other Thai recipes in my hot little hand, and a couple of hours to spare just days before my cook-up, I decided I really should give one of them a test-run. To check that the recipe writers knew what they were talking about (g). So I took the most direct route to this shop (with my trusty map downloaded from the Net), and found, of course, that it was the exact same shop I had visited a few days before! (g)

Anyway, I got a few more Thai goodies, including my very first shallot. And what a strange vegetable it is. The pear-shaped bulge is the result of little fronds lined up somewhat like picket fences tucked in between the layers of the shallot (the dark bits you can see in the photo). My shallot didn't have any particular smell, so I didn't know what to expect from it taste-wise, but I took a leap of faith, and chopped the whole lot up and stir-fried it as instructed.

This, and the recipe I chose for my cook-up are from a lovely Thai food site, ThaiTable, which I am sure to visit regularly whenever the mood for Thai food strikes.

Pad Thai

1/2 lime
1 egg
4 teaspoons fish sauce [S: The brand with the oyster on the label seems to be the best for begginers like me]
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon ground chili pepper
ground white pepper
1 shallot, minced
2 tablespoon sugar
2 tablespoon tamarind [S: I used tamarind paste]
1/2 package Thai rice noodles
2 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/2-1/4 lb prawns (optional) [S: about 3 big prawns each should do it]
1/3 cup tofu - extra firm (optional) [S: I used the firm Japanese kind, but it could have done with a bit of draining with a plate or other weight on top]
1-1/2 cup Chinese chives, green (optional)
2 tablespoons peanuts (optional)
1-1/3 cup bean sprouts (optional)

Tips and substitutions
By far, the trickiest part is the soaked noodles. Noodles should be somewhat flexible and solid, not completely expanded and soft. When in doubt, undersoak. You can always add more water in the pan, but you can't take it out.

Shrimp can be substituted or omitted.

In this recipe, pre-ground pepper, particularly pre-ground white pepper is better than fresh ground pepper. For kids, omit the ground dried chilli pepper.

Tamarind adds some flavor and acidity, but you can substitute white vinegar.

The type of extra firm tofu called for this recipe can be found at most oriental groceries in a plastic bag, not in water. Some might be brown from soy sauce, but some white ones are also available. Pick whatever you like.

The original Pad Thai recipe calls for crushed roasted peanuts. Many people in Thailand avoid eating peanuts because of its link to cancer.

Method
Soak the dry noodles in lukewarm water while preparing the other ingredients, for 5-10 minutes. Julienne tofu and cut into 1 inch long matchsticks. When cut, the extra firm tofu should have a mozzarella cheese consistency. Cut up Chinese chives into 1 inch long pieces. Set aside a few fresh chives for a garnish. Rinse the bean sprouts and save half for serving fresh. Mince shallot and garlic together.

Use a wok. If you do not have a wok, any big pot will do. Heat it up on high heat and pour oil in the wok. Fry the peanuts until toasted and remove them from the wok. Add shallot, garlic and tofu and stir them until they start to brown. The noodles should be flexible but not expanded at this point. Drain the noodles and add to the wok. Stir quickly to keep things from sticking. Add tamarind, sugar, fish sauce, chili pepper and preserved turnip. Stir. The heat should remain high. If your wok is not hot enough, you will see a lot of juice in the wok at this point. Turn up the heat, if it is the case. Make room for the egg by pushing all noodles to the side of the wok. Crack the egg onto the wok and scramble it until it is almost all cooked. Fold the egg into the noodles. Add shrimp and stir. Add bean sprouts, chives. Stir a few more times. The
noodles should be soft and very tangled.

Pour onto the serving plate and sprinkle with peanuts. Serve hot with a wedge of lime on the side and raw Chinese chives and raw bean sprouts on top. As always, in Thailand, condiments such as sugar, chili pepper, vinegar and fish sauce are available at your table for your personal taste. Some people add more pepper or sugar at this point.

The YM declared this recipe a winner (9 out of 10, apparently; the point off being for the raw spring onions on top (g)), and I have to admit I was pretty proud of my very first forray into Thai cooking--until the YM came home with the ego-bruising news that his classmate, who is not long back from a holiday in Thailand, reckons it's nothing like what he had there. Perhaps that's because he had the "red, oily pad thai...that is common in many western Thai restaurants"?? Never having been, I can't say for sure...

Enjoy