Southeast Asian

Unlike most braised meat dishes, this one ends up dry. The sauce is reduced slowly with the meat, and the result is something like fresh beef jerky. Be sure to vary the amount of chile according to your taste; I tend to be quite conservative when using chiles, but this dish is traditionally quite hot. Serve with white rice and a moist vegetable dish, like Spinach with Coconut Milk (page 487).

A surprising cousin of the Italian Roast Pork with Milk (page 400), similar in its preparation and results, completely different (but equally superb) in the eating. Because the pork is cut up and braised, it cooks more quickly. Use meat from the shoulder end. See page 500 for information on Asian fish sauces like nam pla. Serve this with Sticky Rice (page 508). Other cuts of meat you can use here: boneless chicken thighs.

Incredibly quick and perfect on a weeknight with steamed Sticky Rice (page 508), which of course takes twice as long as the dish itself! See page 500 for information on nam pla. Other meat you can use here: Ground turkey, chicken, veal, or beef.

There were two things I couldn’t get enough of in Vietnam: crunchy lemongrass dishes and caramel sauce dishes. Here’s one of the latter, in which the caramel sauce—essentially melted sugar, which becomes oddly bitter while retaining its sticky sweetness as it browns—is used to poach the fish. Make sure you use lots of black pepper, which is one of the characteristic seasonings of Vietnam, and serve this unusual, delicious dish with Basic Long-Grain Rice (page 506). Information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla) is on page 500.

Here’s a salad that combines the fresh tartness of green—unripe—mangoes with a little stir-fried meat. Unripe mangoes are more common than the ripe variety at most supermarkets, but if you can’t find them, substitute Granny Smith apples. Nam pla—Thai fish sauce—is described on page 500. Palm sugar is authentic but pretty indistinguishable from brown sugar.

The first time I had this salad—it was in Saigon—I ate so much of it I could barely eat anything else. So, obviously, you can make it as a main course (serve it with rice). Technically, it’s a starter and a great use for leftover steak. For a traditional, unusual, and wonderful Thai version, toss the beef with 1/4 cup Khao Koor powder (page 587) before dressing. For information on nam pla, see page 500.

The ideal herb for seasoning this salad is rau ram, which is not impossible to find if a well-stocked Asian store or supermarket is in your area; you can pick up your Thai fish sauce (page 500) while you’re there. The best alternative is a combination of cilantro and mint, which comes pretty close. If you don’t have precooked chicken, just simmer chicken breasts (bone-in are best) in water to cover for 10 to 15 minutes. When the meat is done, pull it from the bone (continue cooking the bones, perhaps with a few vegetables like carrots and onions, to make stock) and chop or shred.

You could call this chicken salad Thai-style, but whatever you call it—you’ll see larb, larp, laarb, and other variations on menus—this is a quick, delicious, appetite-rousing starter. Teaming it with any of the more substantial Thai dishes in this book and some rice makes for an impressive meal. (If you need information on nam pla, see page 500.) Most laarb served in this country is made from chicken, and certainly that’s good and easy. But laarb is even more delicious made with pork shoulder or beef tenderloin. In any case, this is one place where you should mince the meat together with the garlic by hand; food-processed meat is just a little too mushy here. The process shouldn’t take more than five minutes, though, so don’t be put off.

Not surprisingly—Vietnamese food is only occasionally hot—this isn’t as blistering as the vegetarian Thai version on page 174. You can buy Vietnamese chili garlic paste at any store selling Asian ingredients; it keeps nearly forever in the refrigerator. Fish sauces like nam pla and nuoc mam are discussed on page 500. Palm sugar is available at many Asian markets, but brown sugar is indistinguishable in flavor.

Stir-fried vegetables are almost as common in Southeast Asia as they are in China, and even the spices are similar. But the addition of dried shrimp and the use of nam pla are dead giveaways that this dish is from Indochina. It’s usually made on the fiery side, so feel free to increase the chiles if you like. Information on fish sauces like nam pla is on page 500. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: Green beans, parboiled broccoli or cauliflower, or a mixture of onions and peppers. All will take a little longer than fast-cooking watercress.

The vegetables in Vietnam are as beautiful as any I’ve ever seen, and, because there was still little refrigeration when I visited the country, they were fresher than most. This might explain why I enjoyed the simple vegetable stir-fries so much. Then again, it may be the nam pla—or, to use the Vietnamese term, nuoc mam. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: you can use whatever vegetables you like here—you want a total of three to four cups for four people—as long as you follow the basic principles of stir-frying (page 311).

This salad is found throughout Southeast Asia. It’s a great dish for entertaining since it must marinate for at least an hour before being served and can sit for a couple of hours after that.

The strong, unusual aroma of nam pla (Thai fish sauce, page 500) is not something that instantly appeals to many Westerners. But when you cook with it, or mix it with other flavors, its wonderful, characteristic saltiness blossoms. This incredibly simple dressing is great with seafood or mixed greens.

This is an essential, basic, slightly sweet Thai sauce (the Vietnamese nuoc cham is almost identical) used as a dressing for vegetables, noodles, meats, and fish and as a dipping sauce for almost any tidbit of food. Addictive, if you ask me. (Try it with plain grilled shrimp and you’ll see.) Many people make this blazingly hot; my version is much tamer. If you add five, or even ten, small Thai chiles, you won’t be breaking with tradition. See page 500 for information on Asian fish sauces like nam pla, page 185 for a description of dried shrimp.

Who knew something so simple could be so good? Ground, toasted sticky rice is an ingredient used as a binder in some Thai dishes, but it’s also sprinkled over sticky rice as a seasoning, contributing a toasty, smoky note. Unless you make Thai food with unusual frequency, I think it’s best to make single-meal batches, though you could easily multiply this recipe. Use it in Laarb (page 199), or sprinkle over sticky rice any time you make it.

This fiery, strong northern Thai specialty (if it’s made correctly, you will really reek after eating it, but it’s worth it) has become one of the most popular dishes in Thailand and at Thai restaurants in the States. When I was in Bangkok, I could not walk down the streets or through the markets without at least a dozen offers of Som Tum from the vendors, and it was hard not to stop for a little dish with some grilled meat and sticky rice. You can usually find green, or unripe, papayas and yard-long beans (and the Thai fish sauce called nam pla) at Asian or Latin groceries, but you can also substitute Granny Smith apples for the papaya and Napa cabbage for the beans.

Used widely for spring rolls, this also tastes great with plain grilled meat or chicken or spooned over lightly steamed vegetables. You can substitute soy sauce for the nuoc mam (usually called nam pla in this book and described on page 500, but in any case Southeast Asian fish sauce) if you prefer.

Sambal is the generic name given to sauces in Indonesia, and this is the most basic. Nuts, coconut, dried shrimp, sugar, garlic, and other seasonings are often added before using this as a condiment for noodle, rice, and other dishes. If you want a really fiery sambal, leave in the chile seeds.

In Philippine cuisine, dark, fairly harsh soy sauce is favored, but it’s often combined with sugar to create a syrupy dressing for vegetables. The added garlic gives this sweet and salty sauce a pleasant kick.

Though you don’t see Pad Thai all that much in Thailand (I was told there that it was “a Chinese dish” and therefore inauthentic), it has become a standard at American Thai restaurants—and for good reason. The combination of sweet, salty, sour, and spicy in a variety of textures is irresistible. There’s nothing difficult about making Pad Thai at home. Just make sure you’ve portioned out all the ingredients before you start cooking and, especially if you’re entertaining, take care of the first two steps before your guests arrive. Information on Asian fish sauces like nam pla is on page 500.