I'm a complete novice at cooking meat. I became a vegetarian two seconds after I moved out of my parents' house at 16 and whenever I "slipped" after that, it was always with dishes someone else had made. I slipped quite a lot before I went vegan, because I didn't know how to cook, so I wasn't about to turn down my grandma's beef stroganoff or leftover chicken Caesar salad at one of the restaurants where I worked. Once, when I was 20, I fumbled with some frozen, pre-cooked chicken to impress my newly-minted in-laws (I dare say it didn't work), but other than that, I've really never handled meat.
And this is a curious thing, because I pride myself on being fairly kitchen-savvy. I've got me some mad knife skillz; I happily take on projects I think most people avoid, like homemade mayonnaise or herbal wine; I wouldn't think of using frozen pie crust or bottled salad dressing; I dream of the kind of cookware I'd buy if money were no object. But now I'm wandering in utterly alien territory. So I find myself Googling things like how to cook chicken or what kind of meat is good for stew? Y'know, the kind of stuff most people learn as soon as they step into the kitchen.
This is not my first experiment with chicken; that would be the tortilla soup I made last week, which was not very good. This second attempt was more successful. Tom kha gai is, I believe, difficult to ruin, as it's basically a Thai chicken soup, good for what ails ya, and easily modified (in this case I added a bunch of greens).
This isn't an authentic tom kha gai as I don't have galangal available to me, so I used ginger instead. I've had a nasty dry cough for over a week, exacerbated by the dust I inhale every day at work, but this soup was so soothing and warm, a good gluten-free alternative to chicken noodle. The herbs in this soup are all excellent for fighting off illness, and the coconut milk is especially calming to sore throats.
I recently learned that a friend raises chickens in addition to pigs, so I put in an order for several to put by for the winter. I can't tell you what a strange experience it is for me to talk to this sweet lady, specifying whether I want the chickens skinned, and asking her to reserve the organs. These aren't some nebulous feathered machines to me. I am keenly aware that these chickens, bound for my freezer, were living creatures, cousins to the hens who live in my backyard, funny little animals with individual personality traits and the desire to live.
And I suppose at this point I should launch into some tired diatribe about how conflicted I feel, how I'm balancing what is necessary against what is just, and all that jazz, maybe with a dash of disgust about handling meat, but the truth is that this all feels very natural and good to me right now. I'm sure I'll get around to navelgazing in the future, but for now I'll just get on with the recipe, which is the important thing.
I always hesitate to post recipes using a bunch of exotic ingredients because a) I think we should focus on locally-produced food and b) sometimes it can be hard to find these things. But I really enjoy the occasional exotic recipe, and I've seen all of these ingredients sold in regular supermarkets such as Safeway. Look for tubes of lemongrass paste in the produce section and nam pla sold with other Asian foods like rice noodles and soy sauce.
Tom Kha Gai
3 c. chicken stock (or vegetable broth)
1 1/2 c. coconut milk
3" ginger, peeled and minced
3 garlic cloves, minced
3 T. nam pla (Thai fish sauce)
2 T. lemongrass paste
2 kaffir lime leaves (or zest of 1 lime)
pinch of crushed chile flakes
2 c. cooked chicken, shredded or diced (may substitute tofu)
8 oz. cremini mushrooms, sliced
1 bunch tatsoi or bok choy, chopped
1 bunch cilantro, chopped
Combine the stock, coconut milk, ginger, garlic, nam pla, lemongrass, kaffir leaves, and chili flakes in a large soup pot. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for 10 minutes, with the lid on. Strain out the herbs and return the broth to the pot. Add the chicken or tofu and mushrooms and cook for about 5 minutes. Turn off the heat and stir in the greens and cilantro. Season to taste with chile paste, soy sauce, or additional nam pla. Enjoy!
2 comments:
I wish you could come and live with me for a week or two (or three!) and we could experiment with this together. I'm in just about the same stage as your are, but with less time to experiment with cooking. :(
Your photos are such a treat! I love the bowl nestled in the fallen leaves! Just beautiful, and one of my favorite soups! Thank you!
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