Adventures in Thai Cooking

Two summers ago I decided to tour Thailand on my own. I had never traveled alone before and I was worried that I would spend two weeks in Thailand like an unhappy ghost-seeing people but not speaking; invisible to everyone. I decided I needed a "family" and a small community.

After a few days in Bangkok, I flew to Chiang Mai and stayed at the Galare Guest House on the river near the Night Market. Mr. Galare is a math teacher who built 32 units in his garden. He and his small hotel were wonderful. The employees were my drivers. The cars belonged to Mr. Galare, a delightful person. Sometimes I ate breakfast with him—a yummy rice gruel served with a raw egg that cooked a little bit in the hot rice soup. Other times I ate breakfast on the sidewalk near the hotel. The hotel had brochures of different cooking schools—all reasonably priced.

For $20 a day, the chef from the cooking school I chose picked up anywhere between three to twelve students at their respective hotels, around 9 a.m., took them to his house where he had an outdoor kitchen with twelve burners, twelve woks, and four helpers who did all the washing and serving. We ate the lunch we made outside in the thatched open-air dining rooms. Then, after lunch we would go back to the kitchen and fix dinner. We worked in a stupor—so full we could barely chop up the new ingredients and grind the spices. We loved our chef, however, and worked until 5 p.m., in spite of secret longings to take a nap. Fortunately, there was a refrigerator outdoors with lots of liters of ice water and cold beer. The chef kept us going and we would eat again. I think we must have prepared 15 to 20 dishes every day between all of us. Of course we shared.

After dinner, he drove us back to our hotels. Everyone would be asleep in the station wagon. I would nap until 8 p.m., then go to the Night Market and eat again. I really enjoyed some of the dishes so asked the chef to teach me how to prepare them. (I gained 10 pounds in two weeks.) Some days I just could not go to cooking school and eat so many meals. On those days, Mr. Galare would lend me a driver and a car and I would go see the elephants or go to a village to look at handicrafts. While there, I would take pictures of different people from various hill tribes.

In the Night Market, an artist copied my photos in black and white pencil. He made wonderful drawings that everyone admired.

For the last cooking class I asked the chef to teach me how to prepare a pumpkin filled with flan. He used a large electric steamer. Then he took the class to the market to buy spices. I brought home nutmeg, white pepper, saffron, and many other ingredients. Then I bought an enormous mortar and pestle made of green stone. When I got to the airport, my overhead suitcase weighed 26 kilos—I could barely lift it onto the scales. I had to explain to the Thai personnel that I had attended a cooking class. They were so wonderful. My sketches, protected by a large cardboard tube, went into the overhead compartment and the airlines sneaked the overhead bag on board without charging me an overweight fee.

Today the mortar and pestle stand on the counter next to my stove. Last night I used it to make a salad: I used it to crush garlic and ginger with lime juice, salt, sugar, and chile. I sliced up green cabbage, cilantro, and a few little green onions. Then I lifted the mortar up and poured the dressing onto the greens. I could barely lift it. Though it weighs a ton, I am so happy I brought it back from Thailand. My great grandchildren someday will use it. It will last hundreds of years.

We ate the salad with steamed rice and a pork cutlet cooked Japanese style with Japanese spiky bread crumbs I bought at Ranch 99, a local Asian market, and a special pork cutlet sauce I got from the Japanese supermarket.

If you can only go once in your life to a cooking school, I recommend going to northern Thailand. Wow! I learned a lot that I use every day now. The people were wonderful and the food was terrific. You don't need reservations to attend a cooking school in Chiang Mai—just go. There are enough schools to accommodate everyone.

Also the dishes in the Night Market must be eaten to be believed. However, I never managed to have any room for the duck. Every evening I promised myself a taste of the duck and every evening I got sidetracked by the banana pancakes. So I have an excuse to go one more time—for those five duck dishes that I never tasted and to visit all the kind people that worked so hard to help me learn.

I had planned to make a stopover in Hong Kong on the way home to attend dim sum classes at the Gas and Electric Company (about $35 per class). Instead, at the airport hotel I just slept and slept and couldn't get moving. Perhaps next time I'll make that stopover before I go to Thailand. Meanwhile, there is a delicious recipe for tapioca with Persian melon that I just read in the new cookbook that came with a tiny AROMA rice steamer. I'm going to try making it with some unsweetened soymilk that I purchased at Ranch 99 and NutriSweet. I really have to cut calories in preparation for that next trip!

Two recipes from my trip follow... Enjoy!

Banana Pancakes from the Night Market

This recipe came from the Night Market so play with the ingredients to obtain a proportion to your liking.

1. Use Krusteze pancake mix to create the batter.
2. Mix in thin ripe banana slices.
3. Fry in butter and oil in equal proportions.
4. Sprinkle with super-fine sugar and serve with a bowl full of sugar (just in case) and a plateful of limes cut in half.

The banana pancakes soaked in lime juice and sugar accompanied by iced coffee helped me through the tropical evenings that rarely ended before midnight. Around 10 p.m. I used to get a little hungry and just want something simple and slightly sweet. This is especially good for after the movies when you have already had dinner but want a little something extra.

Flan in a Pumpkin

This dessert is a flan that doesn't use milk. Use any flan recipe but substitute coconut cream for milk. Then steam the flan inside a hollowed-out Asian squash (available at Asian supermarkets) in either a fish steamer or in the microwave. If the squash is small enough, provide one squash per person. If the squash is large, cut it into wedges to serve.

The Japanese green and yellow "pumpkin" is perfect for this wonderful summer dessert. For those who like sweeter desserts, serve brown sugar or palm sugar syrup on the side to drizzle over the extra squash if any remains after eating the flan and squash together.