Chiang Mai Curried Noodles

Kalustyan’s is the most dangerous store in the city. Go in planning to buy a bag of Jasmine rice, come out with bagfuls of seeds, obscure sauces and pastes, oils, weird beans, breads, leaves, nuts, and candy. I’ve never come upon another store that literally has everything. And by that (pretty damn good) definition, I’d say it’s not only the most dangerous but also the finest, store in the city.

Needing fresh turmeric I called our local Thai grocer-also a good place-who said it was too cold, wait two weeks. Kalustyan’s (of course) had it, and it’s not even a Thai grocery. In fact, that’s the beauty of the place; it’s ostensibly Indian/South Asian, located in the heart of Curry Hill. But it has more Thai stuff than a Thai grocery, and more African stuff than an African grocery.

Aside from convenience, Kalustyan’s allows one to work with a vast array of ingredients, which in the end makes you a better cook. Cooking is a two-step process: pre-activity and post-activity. Like painting or sculpture, you start with a bunch of items and end with those items in an altered state.

The more you see and touch, the more you understand about what you like and how you get there. For instance, I’ve never worked with fresh turmeric. Not only does the stuff have to be flown from Thailand, but it’s not usually called for in recipes; usually we use the powder. Not surprisingly, it smells and tastes pretty much like your standard turmeric in powder form: dusty and musty. It’s a gnarly root that resembles a tiny, finger-like piece of ginger but with a papery skin and an orange interior, which tends to color your hands.

In the end I’m not sure fresh turmeric merits a trip to Kalustyan’s especially in this God-awful freezing weather, but for me it was new. And new is good.

(NOTE: by the way, maltodextrin and guar gum and various isotopes are also new, but they don’t make you a better cook. They make you a better chemist.)

Chiang Mai Curried Noodles and Chicken (adapted From David Thompson’s Thai Street Food)

Serves 4

For the Kao Soi Paste

3 bamboo skewers
4 long Thai chilies
1 tablespoon coriander seeds
2 pods cardamom
3 large shallot, unpeeled
1 tablespoon fresh turmeric, peeled, sliced
2 tablespoons sliced ginger, peeled
For the Curry

2 cup coconut milk
2 pounds chicken thighs, skinned, cut in 1-inch pieces
2 teaspoons palm sugar
3 tablespoons fish sauce
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 1/2 cups water
3 kaffir lime leaves, torn
1 pound udon noodles
2 tablespoons vegetable oil

2 bunches scallions, chopped finely

1 Thai chili, sliced finely

1. To make the paste: Soak the skewers for half an hour in water. Meanwhile, dry roast the seeds in a pan then grind in a spice grinder. Heat the broiler, thread the one skewer with shallots and garlic, another with the ginger and turmeric, and another with the chilies.
2. Broil the shallots and ginger until well charred. Remove the other items when browned, keeping an eye on the chilies as they tend to burn. When cool enough to handle, peel the shallots and garlic and add to a mini food processor (or beat in a mortar and pestle if you have) along with the other broiled items. Puree to a paste. You may need some water. Add the ground spices.
3. For the curry: Simmer 1 cup of the coconut milk over medium heat until reduced by half. Add the paste and cook well, stirring, about 5 minutes. Add the chicken, stir well then add the sugar, fish sauce, and soy sauce. Simmer a few minutes then add the remaining cup of coconut milk and the water. Simmer gently until the chicken is tender and the curry is thickened, at least ½ hour. Add the kaffir leaves, remove from heat and let steep until ready to serve. Re-season with fish sauce and sugar if necessary.
4. Bring a large pot of salted water to boil, add the udon and cook about 8-10 minutes. Drain and toss with the vegetable oil as well as 2 tablespoons of soy sauce.
5. To serve, divide the noodles among four bowls. Ladle over the curry and garnish with chives and, if desired, more chili.