My mae grew up in the northeast region of Thailand, also known as the Isaan region. It is home to the country's poorest population, without the cool mountain air of the north nor the white sand beaches of the south to lure tourist cash. My mae's family grew up in a tiny red-dirt road village called Ban Ponesawang, where everyone has the same last name. She and her eight brothers and sisters worked knee deep in the waterlogged rice paddies as their cone hat topped cousins still do today. When I went to visit in November 2003, those g-d roosters woke my ass up at the crack of dawn, so my mae and I slipped on our flip-flops and made our visiting rounds s-l-o-w-l-y. (As I once told a friend, walking with my family is like being stuck in traffic.) The smell of burnt plastic permeated the cool air (there's no trash pick-up in that neck of the woods), and though it was only 6:00 a.m., it seemed like everyone was awake and on their way to work in the fields. My mom would point out her cousins, her cousins' children, my grandmother's sisters, middle-aged childhood friends, always stopping to open up her Costco-sized bottle of Advil, doling out the American over-the-counter remedies like a teacher distributing candy at school.
When we were kids, my uncle liked to say, "We were so poor, you know what I had to do when I was a kid? I lick the meat and eat the sticky rice!" But it wasn't all hunger and heartache. My mom recounted fond memories of collecting the most tender bamboo shoots from the side of the road to bring home for spicy bamboo stew, or gathering fragrant wild herbs to add to soups.
When I was in Ban Ponesawang, I went shopping with my aunt at the open-air market, where locals buy all of their dinner ingredients on a daily basis. We picked up huge river snails the size of golf balls, their nautilus shells woven together on a single clackety string. We looked over a bloody beef stand where it looked as though the entire animal was on display, sans refrigeration, the slick organs and bright red flesh under constant prodding by some eager flies. One old lady laid out her gatherings on dinner-plate sized, spade-shaped leaves -- the tender, tiny green bamboo shoots my mom always spoke of dreamily, which looked as promisingly different from their canned cousins as a dry-aged porterhouse would look to someone who'd only ever had beef jerky. My aunt haggled with another woman, whose lime-tinted grains were displayed in palm leaf lined baskets. "Khao mao," she said.
"What's that?"
"Your mae's favorite. It's young rice pounded until the bran slips off. Taste it."
As my aunt purchased 1/2 kg for our dessert, I put some of the flattened green kernels in my mouth -- they were tender, sweet, and fragrant, and I couldn't wait to see how they'd cook up.
Despite the fact that the region is the poorest in the country, many people (myself included, naturally) consider Northeastern Thai cuisine the best Thailand has to offer. Khao mao is the perfect example of the culinary ingenuity of the Isaan people. Rice is the staple crop of the region, glutinous rice in particular (which, incidentally, is considered a lowbrow food in Thailand), so rice is utilized in imaginative ways. Young green rice is pounded flat and cooked for dessert. Translucent kernels of sticky rice help fill out the tart grilled pork sausages I love. And larb, the classic tart-salty-spicy ground pork salad, swa, and plenty of other dishes would not be complete without a generous sprinkling of khao kua, ground toasted rice.
Ground toasted rice couldn't be easier -- take a couple of tablespoons of uncooked rice (preferably the sticky variety), toast in a dry pan over medium heat until they are a nice toasty brown, the color of almond skin. Grind with a mortar and pestle.
Rice as a seasoning? You better believe it. A tablespoon or two is an umami agent, adding a fragrant, toasty savoriness to soups and salads. It's totally indispensable, and once you recognize its flavor, you'll never be able to live without it in your yams again.
Try it in this Chez Pim recipe for shrimp fruit salad and beef salad. Or in my recipe for swa.
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