Sour times: the instant noodle-fueled rise of “old crock” sour vegetables


One of the Master Kong copycats we have in Philadelphia of the “Old crock sour vegetable beef noodle” – a spinoff of a noodle battle going on in China

In a 2014 post I tried to argue that the Kang Shifu 康師傅 (aka Chef Kang, or Master Kong) “happy chef” and his style of the popular beef stew noodles have influenced not only other instant noodle brands in Taiwan and China but also Chinese food trends more broadly.  In the US we still don’t have access to those incredibly popular Kang Shifu offerings (due to the real beef meat packets inside each package of noodles and US import restrictions), but we do have several copycat variations with powdered soup packets where we can see the effects of instant noodle brand battles.

Today I have another example of that influence, this time with a style of fermented Chinese mustard (changed from cabbage–see comments below), the so-called “old crock” sour vegetable.

Since my last post on Kang Shifu, I started noticing a new genre of instant noodle in the noodle isle of most Chinese supermarkets in Philadelphia. These noodle packs are usually purple, and there is a key active ingredient that is translated as “old crock” sour vegetable, or sometimes sauerkraut (and the flavor of this lacto-fermented Chinese mustard is similar to sauerkraut in many respects). This key ingredient is also signified on the package with an image of a pickling crock off to the side.

This combination of sour vegetable with beef noodles is not a new thing, in fact it is a classic. That said, the reference to the “old crock” (老坛酸菜), as well as the uniformity with the purple coloring, made me think this must be a corporate partnership with a brand called “Old Crock” (老坛). Instead, this is just a catchy name employed by two competing instant noodle empires, Master Kong and Tong Yi in China and Taiwan. See here for a Google image search with the keyword “Old crock sour vegetable” to get a sense of how these two companies are promoting the idea of “old crock”. For a very interesting blog post on the aforementioned noodle battle over the “old crock sour vegetable”, see the outstanding blog Reputable Sources.

This noodle battle and food trend finally started spilling over to the international market in recent years, and we now have a relatively stable section at Chinatown noodle isles for “old crock” sour vegetable noodles. In Philadelphia, we can clearly see popularity of this flavor, but we don’t have the original versions from the two main battling factions.

img_5530I have to admit, I find this style of instant noodle delicious. Sour vegetables go very well with the instant noodle beef soup base. In fact, as I get older, I find pickled vegetables go well with most anything.


Yuquan’s “old crock” sour vegetables. Now available in the pickle section

I am getting more interested in Chinese pickled vegetables in general, and am slowly working my way through the varied offerings at Philly’s many Chinese markets. Recently I found “old crock” sour vegetables for sale in foil packages alongside other types of preserved Chinese vegetables (see left).

This example comes from a well-known company, Chongqing’s Yuquan 鱼泉 (literally “fish well”), is perhaps best known for its line of Sichuan-style pickles, i.e. yuquan zhacai 鱼泉榨菜. See here for a Google image search for this kind of pickle. Unlike the more stem-focused zhacai or yacai (see here for my post on Yibin yacai), these sauerkraut-like lacto-ferments utilize more green leaves than stem.

Notice the purple packaging and the image of a pickling crock off to the side. To me, this is a clear example of how instant noodle companies are driving food trends in China and beyond.

Update 10 May 2017: Here is another example of “old crock” branding… Sichuan’s Baijia 白家 “Old Crock” sour vegetable potato starch vermicelli:


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Kluwak seeds and a savory black beef stew from East Java


Nasi rawon. Black kluwak beef stew with rice.

The black flesh of fermented kluwak seeds (aka keluwek or black nut) adds a very unusual and thick earthy base to meat stews in regional cuisines of Indonesia and Malaysia. It is particularly well known as a key ingredient in an intensely flavored East Java stew called Rawon, and in buah keluak pork and chicken stews in Malaysia. Fortunately for us in Philadelphia, this is yet another exotic ingredient that we can get locally at one of our several Indonesian grocers (light green points on my map of Philly Asian markets).


Packaged kluwak flesh from a South Philly shop

Kluwak seeds (see here for the wiki entry for pangium edule) are delicious as a base for savory dark stews. That said, the pale white flesh of the fresh nut is actually poisonous. It can only be consumed after the toxic effects are mitigated through boiling and fermenting in ash and banana leaves for 40 days. By that point, the flesh turns an oily dark brown. In bazaars of Indonesia, you can buy the fermented seeds, still in their dry, clam-sized oblong gray shells (see here for an image–as there are 6-8 seeds in a single fruit, the actual fruit must be huge!)

If you go to a Market in Indonesia, you can see people shelling the seeds, scooping the flesh out of the gray shells. The only kind available to us in Philadelphia is the seed-shelled flesh, vacuum packed in plastic (see left).

The freshly-shelled seeds have a much softer flesh. The shelf stable vacuum packed kind we have in Philadelphia are much more firm. To cook with the latter, first soak the flesh in warm water, let sit for 15 minutes or so and mash (I just use my fingers), much like the process for making tamarind liquid for cooking preparations.

In my experience, I felt some shell pieces and some tough bits that I thought might not be so nice in my soup. Because of that I chose to strain my kluwak sauce. Other Indonesian home cooks simply blend it all up with the other soup base paste ingredients (dried spices, shallots, garlic, shrimp paste).

Recipe: Black kluwak-stewed beef with rice – Nasi rawon

Nasi Rawon is a much loved go-to meal for East Java (and in metropolitan areas all around Indonesia). Many recipes can be found online, and the basic ingredients seem to be pretty standard. Here are some online recipes for comparison: from Singapore Local Favorites and Travelling FoodiesI found some nice video recipes too, but they are in Indonesian. That said, they are pretty easy to follow if you recognize the ingredients. Here is a video from Resep dan Cara memasak, and here is an East Java news TV program from NET JATIM that includes a restaurant visit to a visit to a famous rawon restaurant in Surabay (Rawon Pak Pangat). There they serve the stewed meat over rice as well as a bowl of broth separate for customers to pour over when they are ready.

Common accompaniments to this stew (besides rice) are salted duck eggs, mung bean sprouts, lemon basil, cucumber slices, shrimp crackers, and spicy sambal. I loved this stew when I sampled it in Indonesia, but I found the salty duck eggs overkill as the stew was already so intensely flavored. In my version below, I mellowed the accompaniment to simple hard-boiled egg and cucumber. I recognize that may be possible heresy.


Most of the key ingredients for this dish, minus 2 lbs of stewing beef, galangal root, tamarind liquid, and torn kaffir lime leaves. Clockwise from bag of kluwak: kluwak, shrimp paste (belachan), tumeric powder, (Asian) shallots, garlic, ginger, salam leaves, coriander seeds, candlenuts, lemongrass stalks, dried chiles.

This stew is pretty simple to put together, with the most hands-on time spent soaking and mashing kluwak and tamarind, and mashing the soup base seasonings. Below is an approximate list of ingredients and quantities I used. I had a cookbook reference point (Indonesian Kitchen: 300 popular recipes across the archipelago, by Yasa Boga, Gramedia 2015), as well as several web sources:

  • Beef for stewing, about 2 lbs
  • flesh from soaked kluwak seeds (I used the whole package above)
  • 3-4 thick slices of galangal root (I used frozen)
  • 3 lemongrass stalks, bruised (I tossed some green stalk into the soup as well)
  • 3-4 salam leaves
  • 3-4 kaffir lime leaves
  • palm sugar
  • tamarind soaking liquid (about 1/2 cup)
  • salt to tasteFor spice paste:
  • [Asian] shallots (about 6)
  • garlic cloves (about 5)
  • ginger (about 1 Tbsp)
  • candlenuts (4)
  • ground tumeric (about 1 tsp)
  • coriander seeds (about 1 Tbsp)
  • belachan (shrimp paste, about 1 tsp)

  1. Soak kluwak seeds and tamarind. Mash flesh and make thick liquids. If you use too much liquid, you can just use less water or stock later. See above images for soaking kluwak, and see images here for soaking tamarind.
  2. Dry fry coriander seeds and candlenuts and pound into a fine powder. Add chile peppers, salt, keep pounding. Add shallots, garlic, ginger. Pound to a paste. Finally mix with tumeric and belachan (see above).
  3. Prepare lemongrass stalks and galangal. Prepare kaffir lime leaves (see above).
  4. Heat oil in a pot. Fry spice paste mixture, lemongrass, galangal, kaffir lime leaves until fragrant. Add cubed beef. Stir it up good.
  5. Add in the kluwak liquid and the tamarind liquid. Add water or stock to cover the beef. Boil until meat is tender to your preference. For me, after about 1 1/2 hours my beef was starting to fall apart.
  6. Serve with rice, salted duck egg, cucumber, bean sprouts, shrimp crackers, sambal, etc. As mentioned above, today I chose mild accompaniments of hard-boiled egg and cucumber.


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(A few) Asian grocery options for Germantown and Manayunk


Binto Market & Cafe

Regular readers of this blog may be surprised to find that for the past 3 years, I have been living about as far away from any Asian market as can possibly be in Philadelphia. Perhaps that has helped force me to continue exploration of Philly’s (sometimes far-flung) neighborhoods. This has also meant finding the most efficient street networks to bike all over the city to reach our many markets. I’ve gotten pretty good at getting around the city. That said, my own neighborhoods (Germantown and later, Roxborough) remained about 3 miles to the nearest Asian market.

But no longer! Over the summer there have been a couple of nice developments that will will directly influence my quality of life going forward, including Asian grocery options in Germantown and Manayunk…

Chelten Market IGA International Food Market (176 Chelten Ave). The grocery store at the corner of Wayne and Chelten in Germantown used to be a Pathmark, and it used to be the closest store to us when we lived in Germantown—it had been a basic grocery store for mainstream American food choices and it wasn’t very interesting. Over the summer the store has  changed into Chelten Market IGA. I can’t say that this is a full Asian or international market—in fact it largely maintains the look and stock of the prior Pathmark, and has kept many of the same staff  and they even still have their corny announcements on the PA (which I do enjoy). What has changed is a slightly more expanded produce section with items like lemongrass, daikon,  napa cabbage, and a few bok chois (though today lemongrass and daikon were quite old), and more importantly to the purposes of this blog, there is also “international” aisle that has an unusual mix of Asian items. There you can find several things that can’t be found in more mainstream US markets: Glutinous rice from Thailand, fish sauce, Mama brand instant noodles, basic staples for making Japanese and Korean foods. There is also a decent Caribbean section. It seems there is some effort to stock things for the local community, including the neighborhood’s growing Asian community (mostly students at Philadelphia University and Drexel University College of Medicine).  The most impressive addition to the store is the freezer section, which contains a large selection of Korean and Chinese dumplings, mantou, mandu Chinese youtiao.

Binto Market & Cafe (part of Chabaa Thai Bistro’s expansion at 4345 Main Street in Manayunk). This newly established market (named after the stacked lunch box popular in Japan and Thailand–2 countries that fittingly reflect the specialty food items inside) has surprising and unusual mix of high-end Japanese, Chinese, Thai, and Vietnamese pantry staples and snacks. Even more surprising is the refrigerated section of rare and crucial Southeast Asian vegetables (they had 4 types of eggplant for example, as well as lotus stems, kaffir lime leaves, etc). The market is light on leafy greens, but is seems the fresh veg stock may be on rotation.

Prices are a little higher than Southeast Asian markets in South Philly, but you might expect that for a boutique market in Manayunk… Thai mortars and pestles line the shelves on the wall (which you can barely see in the above image), and are also for sale. They are also packing quick meals out of Chabaa’s kitchen, with daily specials that range from pho, to grilled chicken and papaya salad, to banh mi sandwiches. The clerks are Thai and speak Thai fluently. They let me custom order an Isaan-style papaya salad! For my purposes, this will be a valuable new option for stopping by to pick up a few things for a Thai meal on the way home from work.

Posted in - Featured Food Discoveries, - Featured Markets, Japanese food, Korean food, Thai/Lao food | Tagged , | 2 Comments

Selamat pagi, Yogyakarta: a surprisingly rich and savory chicken rice porridge for breakfast

IMG_5225I’ll start by saying that I’m not one for sweet breakfasts. As regular readers will know (ex. 1, ex. 2, ex. 3), I prefer savory foods leftover from the night before to American breakfast cereal or glazed donuts. A recent trip to Yogyakarta, Indonesia brought savory breakfasts to a new level for me–and using simple rice porridge as a vehicle! This is explained in the following post.

Rice porridge (or congee) is a very common meal in East and Southeast Asia. It is remarkably filling and it is an easy-to-digest anytime food.

Perhaps to many readers, rice porridge will best known as a breakfast, a late night snack, or as a part of dim sum varied offerings in southern China and among Chinese emigre communities in Chinatowns around the world. In those locations it is generally known as 粥 zhou (Mandarin) or juk or jok in southern dialects. In Philadelphia, my favorite location for juk is sadly about to close down. Heung Fa Chun Sweet House, You will be missed! (UPDATE 10 Nov 16: It looks like Heung Fa Chun is still going, though it seems to be under new management. They are still selling their lean meat/preserved egg juk!)

Rice porridge is very easily prepared. Just overboil the rice in too much water to the point that it breaks down to a mush (1.5-2 hours). Sometimes it is boiled together with pork, fish, chicken, and/or eggs. It can then be seasoned with soy sauce, black or white pepper, fresh ginger, cilantro, green onion, fried garlic. It is delicious and classic. Below you can see an example of a great Sino-Thai version.

las jok

This is an example of Sino-Thai jok โจ๊ก 粥 -  my idea of what is amazing rice porridge. Courtesy La Sripanawongsa

In Southeast Asia, rice porridge is built off that same Chinese classic, largely due to the enormous ethnic Chinese populations that relocated to Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia, and Cambodia over the past hundred or so years. In most of those renditions you can still see vestiges of Chinese influence to the crucial accompaniments to this dish: deep fried dough, soy sauce, pickled Chinese cabbage. All of those are still standard in southern China, as well as in other places where southern Chinese have settled.

Somehow in Indonesia, that simple presentation of rice porridge wasn’t enough. From what I can gather through my travels in person and online, rice porridge in Indonesia is anything but boring. Just to give you a sense of how different rice porridge can be there, try following these two links: a Google image search for Chinese-style rice porridge, zhou 粥, and an image search for Indonesian bubur ayam “chicken porridge”. Do you see what I mean? For the first link you have recognizable congee or porridge, and in the other link, there’s party in a bowl.

My bubur ayam experience was eye-opening for me, though the preparation I regularly had in Yogyakarta was a little different than examples I see in videos online that are perhaps more Jakarta-focused (See here for one such entertaining video example from Mark Wiens of as he explores a Jakarta bubur ayam stall).

The experience that I am trying to replicate is from Hotel Meliá Purosani in Yogyakarta. Theirs was a rice porridge cooked thick in chicken broth, lumped into a bowl, covered with crunchy, pickled and salty Indo-Chinese toppings AND THEN topped with an intensely flavored coconut curry-like soup. That left quite an impression on me. Pickled cabbage, cilantro, white pepper, and crunchy deep fried dough were very familiar pairings to me, but the curry soup thing took things to a new and different level. I had to try it at home. Below are my first efforts on a “next-level” congee, followed by a recipe of sorts:


Bubur ayam Meliá Purosani – Chicken porridge à la Hotel Meliá Purosani

  • Step 1. Prepare intense savory chicken soup (for later topping). That recipe requires a recently discussed salam leaf, and will likely be a basic soto recipe that is chicken or beef based. I adapted largely from an excellent recipe posted online from André Chiang at See the photo series below of my version, and compare to Andre’s version. This soup can be prepared the night before if need be.


  • Step 2. Boil some rice in chicken broth. I used a few generous scoops of cooked jasmine rice, with leftover chicken broth from my soto experiment. Boil for as long as it takes so you don’t recognize the grains anymore. Don’t leave it alone for too long though, stir every 10 minutes or so otherwise it will burn on the bottom. If it is getting too thick and sticking too much, just add more broth or water. It will probably take 1.5 hours.
  • Step 3: While the rice is cooking, prepare all other toppings (besides the soup). That might mean baking or frying crunchy bits, and chopping green aromatics. Any or all of the following may apply…

BONUS: Chinese/Southeast Asian rice porridge topping guide

  1. Deep fried dough. In Chinatown and internationally, this item is likely best known by its Mandarin Chinese name, youtiao 油条 (see below image. If you find it at the fridge section it will likely be labeled as “Chinese cruller”, “Chinese donut” or “油条”). Among Chinese emigre communities it might also be referred to as “oil fried devil” 油炸鬼 you zha gui, or how they are referred to in Indonesia after being that name was transmitted in Hokkien: cahkwe.
    Assuming you don’t get them freshly deep-fried and find them in the fridge section, bake in your oven at 350 for 10 minutes or until starting to crisp. Then you can cut them up smaller if you like.
  2. Soy sauce. Kecap (have you heard the story about how our “ketchup” is related to Southeast Asian/Chinese sauces? If not, check this Codeswitch page. You can use different soy sauces to your preference. Basic soy sauces from China/Japan/Korea are very salty, of course. In Yogyakara, most prefer sweet soy sauce for their porridge, or kecap manis. Image below.
  3. Chopped cilantro and green onion. These are pretty standard everywhere.
  4. Pickled cabbage/other vegetable. At the hotel, they used a pale colored salty vegetable that I find is very similar to the Lychee Brand pickled cabbage (product of Thailand). In Indonesian, this may be referred to as tongcai “tongchai” 冬菜 (dongcai in Mandarin).
  5. Fried soy nuts/soy beans. These I haven’t seen in China besides as toppings for Guilin noodles. It must not be so common for southern Chinese cooking, since they are not commonly found Asian groceries. You can get fried/roasted soy nuts at health food stores, or places like The Head Nut at Reading Terminal Market. If possible, seek out lightly salted or unsalted soy nuts. For dishes like the bubur ayam, all of the other toppings are already salty.IMG_5111
  6. Ground white pepper. This may be a universal, but Southeast Asia is the home for this spice.
  7. Other crunchy fried toppings, like Emping bumbu (melinjo chips), deep fried noodles, etc. If you use emping chips, deep fry them first! I didn’t and it was awful. You’ll notice I had a raw one in my otherwise beautifully prepared bowl above. If you fry them, they crisp up like a poppadom.
  8. Chopped Chinese celery.
  9. Dried pork, beef, or fish sung or “floss”. This is known as 肉松 rou song in Chinese. It’s like meat cotton candy. See here for a wiki entry on the stuff.
  10. Fried garlic. This is a standard topping in Thailand. Just chopped garlic fried until completely dry and golden in oil. Fried shallots might be also used in Indonesia.

Batman view of toppings for this meal. Clockwise from the soup: pepper grinder for white pepper, sweet soy sauce, green onions, Chinese celery, emping chips (remember, fry those first), fried dough (youtiao, aka, cahkwe), shredded chicken from the soup, fried shallots or better yet fried garlic, Chinese preserved cabbage, cilantro, and soy nuts in the middle.

Posted in - Featured Food Discoveries, - Recipes, - Unique food traditions, Chinese food, Malay/Indonesian food, Thai/Lao food | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Salam leaf, an essential flavor in Indonesian cooking

IMG_5059 copy

What you are seeing above is NOT a bay leaf. I say this because it seems like a majority of all recipe sites and blogs online, as well as cookbooks translate daun salam as “bay leaf” in English. In fact, it comes from a totally different order and family of trees (Syzygium polyanthum), and it yields a VERY different flavor from that of the Mediterranean variety, which comes from the laurel family (Laurus nobilis).

Recipes from Indonesia that use this ingredient are honestly too abundant to list here. It is one of the most common aromatics from Sumatra, Java, and Bali. One such common, everyday dish is “chicken soup” (soto ayam). That will be a planned post in the coming week. In addition, Indonesian cooking does not typically use the western bay leaf. So, if you have an Indonesian cookbook that calls for bay leaves, daun salam is what you are looking for.

If you are interested in trying your hand at Indonesian cooking, this ingredient is well worth seeking out. It adds an subtle yet unmistakable sweet and savory flavor. I find it has a flavor between cardamom and cinnamon.

In Philadelphia you can find this at nearly any of the several Indonesian corner stores in South Philly, imported under the Wayang brand. I highlighted several shops that would carry this in a previous post, but I got today’s batch of leaves from One Stop Shop, on the corner of S. 16th and Morris streets.


If you open a bag of these leaves, you won’t smell much of a fragrance. You really need to cook with them to release their aroma. Frying 3-4 leaves in some oil or boiling them in some coconut milk turns on their flavor.

In Javanese and Balinese cooking, the fresh version of daun salam is widely used, and you can witness giant piles of the leaves at most fresh markets.

Bay leaf confusion. Just to give you a sense of how these leaves look compared to other “bay leaves”, see the image below for things I’ve acquired recently:


Typically referred to as “bay leaves”: on left, Mediterranean variety from Turkey, in middle daun salam from Indonesia, and finally on the right, UNKNOWN from a recent shopping trip in Thailand. I thought I was maybe buying a Thai variety of daun salam, and it is labeled as “cardomom leaf” (which, just to confuse matters is how “bay leaf” translates into Thai!). I now suspect that it is actually yet another leaf that is typically labeled “bay leaf”: Cinnamomum tamala, a.k.a. Indian bay leaf, or tejpat leaf. There are still other “bay leaves” out there, but these represent the most common in Eurasia.


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Kassod tree leaves and a leafy Thai curry with grilled fish (gaeng khiilek)

IMG_5037I am back after a nearly four month hiatus. Although I didn’t report on them as they were happening, over these past several months I was fortunate enough to have many incredible food experiences in Mongolia, China, Thailand, and Indonesia–experiences that I will reflect upon as I post going forward this fall.

Most recently I was in Thailand for a week. Food was of course, wonderful. Of particular note and following a trend of my own recent food interests, I appreciated the incredible diversity of vegetal leaves, sprigs, vines, and pods in local cuisines of North and Northeastern Thailand. I tend to be drawn to dishes that include a lot of greens, and in Thailand this idea goes way beyond “salad”. Today, back in Philadelphia, I am cooking to recreate one such food memory of a leafy curry—a curry that is simply named after the savory leaves of the kassod tree (Senna Siamea-see here for an image search of what these trees and flowers look like). In Thai, the name is khiilek ขี้เหล็ก.

IMG_5047English names for this tree vary: kassod, cassod, [Siamese] cassia. To keep things simple, I will refer to them by the Thai name, khiilek (pronounced “keelek”). The leaves and flowers of this tree taste a bit like cardamom, but the leaves should not be eaten raw due to a toxin that can damage the liver. If you have fresh leaves/flowers available, they should be boiled and squeezed of water 2 or 3 times before using in final cooking preparations.

Because of its toxicity in its raw state, as a cooking ingredient khiilek is generally used in soups throughout Thailand and Myanmar. In Thailand, the dish gaeng khiilek แกงขี้เหล็ก, or “khiilek soup” can be found in most any rice and soup stand or market. There are regional variations, however, with what goes into this “soup”. You can get a sense of regional diversity by seeing an image search for khiilek soup. You may notice that the soup seems to come in different colors: dark brown, green, and a pale orange. This difference is primarily whether the soup base is a coconut curry (popular in Southern, Central, North-central Thailand), or as an herbal soup, as it is in Northeastern Thailand.

Today I am trying the coconut curry version.


“Pickled Cassia Leaves”. I wouldn’t have used the word “pickled” but rather “canned”. It is nice to see new imports from Thailand with nicer labeling, however.

I found the leaves in jarred form at a Cambodian market in North Philadelphia, Seng Hong market. As usual, I checked the name in Thai to be sure I was buying the thing I thought it was. If you cannot do this, ask the shopkeeper (smaller shops in North and South Philly are best for this). This can be found in the jarred/canned Southeast Asian section of the market. At the large markets on Washington Ave, the jars don’t have Thai writing, but are labeled as “Cassia”.

Today’s effort was kind of experimental, based heavily on research of Thai language blog posts and videos. The curry paste that is generally used for khiilek coconut curry is basically the same as red curry paste (namprik gaengdaeng น้ำพริกแกงแดง), with the addition of rhizome (grachai กระชาย) and tumeric. I followed the advice of Pim and her great blog, “Pim’s family kitchen” ครัวบ้านพิม to use ready-made red curry paste instead of doing that from scratch. Other examples online puree the leaves to produce an effect that is a thick soup. Some may find this a more attractive option, and a good example can be found in a Thai FoodTravelTV video here.

The results were tasty, and I was surprised with the flavor (especially as I was using canned leaves). Below is my first attempt.

Kassod leaf curry with grilled fish – gaeng khiilek plaa yang – แกงขี้เหล็กปลาย่าง

Below are images with captions of other the key ingredients besides khiilek leaves. Approximate amounts: 1 16 oz jar of khiilek leaves, Japanese mackerel, 1/2 lb of pork ribs, 1-2 Tblsp rhizome, 1-2 Tblsp palm sugar, 2 cups coconut milk or cream, water if too thick, fish sauce to taste.

  • Grill fish. I used a charcoal grill with hardwood charcoal. My fish was a Japanese mackerel (cleaned) that was seasoned with a little salt. Grill until golden and crispy on all sides. After it is cool, hand shred the fish meat and remove bones if they will be a nuisance. Parboil pork ribs (optional, and probably less important as this is an opaque curry anyway).
  • Drain and soak khiilek leaves in lots of water. Drain and squeeze dry.
  • Chop rhizome and mash in mortar and pestle. Fry the red curry paste and rhizome in a little oil. Add in the shredded grilled fish and pork ribs.
  • Add in khiilek leaves, and add sugar and more coconut milk/cream or water to cover. Bring to boil.
  • Taste for final seasoning and add palm sugar and/or fish sauce to balance flavors.

Next time I make this, I will experiment with colors and perhaps puree about half of the leaves.

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Guilin rice noodles for breakfast


Simplified version of Guilin rice noodles for breakfast

My 2014 posts on Guilin rice noodles (Guilin mifen 桂林米粉 master stock and noodle staging) are two of the most viewed posts on this blog. Google is the primary referrer, and I attribute these search engine queries to: 1. people learning to love the popular and ubiquitous noodle dish in any one of China’s many large cities and then returning home to find no such comparable offerings, and 2. curious people finding this dish for the first time in places like Flushing, NY (see here for Guilin Mifen’s Yelp page).

The process that I introduced in my previous posts requires many ingredients and several hours of boiling or braising meats and boiling down the master stock. That said, once that is done, the master stock can be frozen and thawed repeatedly for semi-instant results later on down the road. Last night I had some meat that I needed to deal with somehow, and I decided to braise it in some frozen stock. This morning that became a simple and delicious Guilin rice noodle breakfast.

IMG_4056Just to review, mifen 米粉 are noodles made from rice flour and water, they are often fermented, and then extruded into foot-long segments.

This style of noodle is most common in the South/Southwest regions of China, from Guizhou south through Yunnan and Guangxi, and further south to Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, and Thailand.

Between countries and regions, the names of these noodles can vary. In China they are often called “Guilin mifen” (as the package to the left is labeled), but Jiangxi rice noodles are virtually identical. In Vietnam, the thinner variety of rice noodles can be called bún and the thicker kind are known as bánh (and in my prior post on Guilin rice noodles I used a giant bánh). In Thailand they are called khanom jiin ขนมจีน (see here for a past post that discussed how these are used in Thailand).

In Philadelphia we can only find these noodles (to my knowledge anyway) dried. That said, they are available in a wide variety of thicknesses in the bulk noodle section of Asian markets.

Recipe: Simplified Guilin rice noodles

This is less a step-by-step recipe than a set of very basic guidelines. I should say that I am missing a standard ingredient this morning, the crunchy bean/nut topping (usually soy nuts)–see my prior post on this dish to learn about the more common pickles and crunchy toppings. Even without the soy nuts the noodles were still delicious and satisfying.

1. Prepare braising liquid (aka master stock). Thaw it from the freezer, or make it new. I boiled some chunks of pork butt for about an hour last night in the stock.

2. Boil rice noodles. I use a very wide pot for that. In China, noodles are usually about the size of spaghetti, so choose the large size (L), or (XL)–see package above. Rice noodles need more time than pasta and/or egg noodles. The ones I boiled today were cooked with a little bit of a bite at about 15 minutes. You can then drain and rinse the noodles to stop the cooking process, but if you are eating them right away you can just take out the hot noodles into a bowl. If you rinse them, you might like to pass them through boiling water again, just to heat them up–otherwise cold noodles and hot stock would be room temperature very quickly.

3. Depending on how strong your stock is (i.e. how concentrated), you might want to mix in some boiling water (or noodle-boiling water) to the stock that you ladle over the noodles. My stock was not super concentrated, and was very good just on its own. Give it a taste and decide for yourself. After adding the stock and/or boiling water, top off with meat, cilantro, and pickled vegetables. We had some pickled mustard kicking around in the fridge, so that was today’s pickle. Pickled mustard should be rinsed and squeezed dry before chopping.


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