Ómós Digest #105: A culinary expedition to Bangkok
Part one by Cúán Greene
Hello all,
The Ómós Digest is 100% reader-supported. Please consider supporting this continued writing, research, and expanding our amazing team by upgrading to a paid subscription for €5 a month or €50 a year. Let’s get into this week’s newsletter!
Cúán travelled to Bangkok a fortnight ago, to collaborate with Chenin, a 12 seater restaurant and natural wine bar located in the heart of the city. On his travels, he discovered a whole new lexicon of flavour, novel cooking methods, and a community with a rich history of craft.
Cooking with Fire
In 1945, just after the end of WW2, a well-renowned architect by the name of Jim Thompson was deployed by the OSS (Office of Strategic Services) to Bangkok. Son of a wealthy textile manufacturer, Jim had an eye for detail and it was not long before he recognised the craftsmanship of the Ban Krua community, nestled in the heart of the city. The Ban Krua were a minority of Thai Muslims in a city dominated by Buddhism and unknowingly to most, master weavers of silk. Recognising the inherent beauty of their craft and indeed an opportunity, Thompson established a worldwide appeal for Thai silk, growing his empire in the process. So taken was Thompson by the Ban Krua and Bangkok, he built his home looking out over the Saen Saeb Canal, where the Ban Krua community still resides today.
I spent an afternoon visiting Thompson's house last week, which today is a museum and art centre celebrating his unique collection of Thai antiques, the stunning architecture of his home, and of course Jim Thompson Silk (now a world recognised name). Although it’s hard not to admire the skill and global appeal for JT Silk, truth be told, it was the design of his home that actually brought me to the visitor centre. The lovely garden-enclosed compound sits on the bank of the canal and is made up of six traditional Thai teakwood houses transported from Ayutthaya and Ban Krua Silk Village. Wandering through the courtyards is a site to behold, as you lose yourself in the lush tropical gardens that are intertwined between the crimson-stained traditional teakwood houses. It’s easy to forget that you are firmly at the heart of one of the world's most congested cities. I spent a couple of hours here, largely marvelling at the architecture, mesmerised by the symphony between what lay inside and out. Outside of these walls is a hot and humid concrete jungle, but inside, the perfectly executed microclimates are nothing but relief. As my mind often drifts back to hospitality, I couldn’t help but ponder how wonderful a space this would be for a restaurant. Although enchanted by what Thompson had constructed (in only 8 months), I was even more taken with the thought that the community he had been so infatuated with was living just across the canal. And so, as I exited the JT House rejuvenated by the experience, I made a beeline for the ramshackle village just over the water.
Food dominates the streets of Bangkok and it’s absolutely fascinating. Whether you are in the upmarket district of Sukhumvit, the hustling and bustling neighbourhood of Yaowarat in Chinatown, or here in Ratchathewi, the pavements are awash with street vendors cooking some of the most delicious and affordable food one can find. What is instantly apparent is the dependence of fire as a cooking source. Back home, I cook on what we regard as a Konro Grill - a fancy Asian grill stemming from Japan. It has been used for centuries to grill skewers (yakitori) in Japan, but is unarguably the most cheffy piece of kit to come to the Western world for decades, capable of drawing the attention of craft beer-drinking men away from their overpriced Green Egg Grills. But in Bangkok, tao grills are commonplace. They are the everyday workhorse to every meal. The grills come in two forms. Long metal rectangles, specifically built for cooking skewers, grilled fish or impeccably grilled chicken halves; and round bucket-shaped ceramic burners known as ‘Tao’. These tao are dense and lined with ceramic clay bricks which helps insulate the heat. The shape is designed to allow a single pot to sit upon it. Like a rocket’s exhaust, the furnace is capable of distributing intense heat vertically, boiling liquid or, when the coals are low, it offers a gentle flame for stews or smaller quantities of grilled food. I’m told a tao is only about 1000 Batt, or €26, which is alarmingly affordable even in Thailand, especially when a Green Egg will set you back upwards of €1000 (think how many additional craft beers that would get you lads). Just like Westerners cook on a six-ring gas stove, I witnessed stalls cooking on up to six of these charcoal stoves.
On the streets, we find the very best hawkers with what appears not to be a stall, but an entire outdoor kitchen, kitted out with grill sections and prep areas. The aromas are almost overwhelming at times, especially when it’s 8 am, and the odour of fermented crab invades your nostrils. Nevertheless, the temptation is too great and it’s not long before I give in, approaching a stall somewhat sheepishly, shy by the prospect of having to order with lots of pointing and smiling. In the end, I managed to successfully come away with a bag of Som Tam (papaya salad) and half a grilled chicken with Prik nam pla sauce and sticky rice. Only moments ago I saw a man sitting on the floor eating breakfast, setting his food on the floor as if it were a table, thinking it a little odd. But now food in hand, and with not a bench in sight, I chose a spot in the morning sun and began my breakfast. Here, families cook together, supporting one another in age-old family businesses on the very same narrow street corner they have resided in for generations. As I continue down the shadowed pathways of Ratchathewi, it's not hard to understand why Bangkok appealed to Jim.
A couple of days in Bangkok is simply not enough. The enormity of the city is too large to comprehend and I considered myself lucky to have a number of Thai colleagues that I worked with in past years to show me around. I was brought to restaurants where I was the only Caucasian, markets in locations that tourists do not visit, and met with fascinating people I would never have had the opportunity to meet otherwise. When asked by a local if I was enjoying Bangkok, between mouthfuls of sticky rice, I exclaimed that I felt as if I was only scraping the tip of the iceberg and could stay for weeks. His response was - ‘what did snow taste like?’. This is what sets Bangkok apart for me. Despite its enormity, the districts which break up the vast landmass, equate to a feeling that is local. Despite almost 11 million people living here, its neighbourhoods portray a great sense of community and regionality, their people humble and hospitable. Despite my concerns about being overwhelmed by another global behemoth, I felt far more at ease being lost in the streets of Bangkok than, say in the alleyways of New York, a city that should theoretically feel less foreign.
The Chenin Experience
Not long after I had executed a pop-up at Fulgurance restaurant in Greenpoint in New York last March, I recall being followed on Instagram by a restaurant in Bangkok called Chenin. A couple of weeks passed when Mike, Aka ‘Mad Mike’, got in touch, asking if I would be interested in cooking at Chenin, his restaurant and wine bar in downtown Bangkok. Of course, I was humbled and ironically intrigued to meet another Mad Mike - a name famously attributed to the head chef of Chapter One in Dublin. I wondered were all Mikes mad or was it just a name? I suppose ‘Mad Mike’ has a better ring to it than Mad Cúán of Mad Pádraig.
Chenin is located in Sukhumvit, an upmarket neighbourhood of Bangkok with a high volume of Japanese residents. The restaurant is split over two floors: the first floor a casual natural wine bar and on the second floor is a high-end 12-seater restaurant, where I would be cooking for 3 nights. The kitchen is completely open, equipped with an Argentinian grill, a woodfired bread oven and a mahogany workbench which looks directly out towards the diners. It’s a beautifully designed space that acts as a moody theatre of sorts for the guests.
I made the decision to go to Bangkok a week before the dinner commenced. I had a desire to learn as much as I could about the city's culture. Why? Creating a menu carte blanche from your desk in Ireland does not exactly evoke intense inspiration. I found myself googling things like ‘Thai fruits available in August’ or ‘traditional foods eaten in Thailand’. It certainly wasn't wasted time, but paled in comparison to actually being there. Visiting markets and seeing produce firsthand is what inspires me. However, I was armed with one moment of experience that served useful. Although I had never been further east than Romania by this point, as I have written many times before, I had spent 6 months in Mexico cooking in the jungle in 2016 and used this experience to my advantage. I’ll never forget these months at Noma Mexico, landing in a completely new territory and being handed ingredients we had never set our eyes upon previously. Using techniques attributed to us from working in Denmark, we applied them to the local produce. In my mind, what Noma’s test kitchen created that summer was a menu like no other. It was bold, rooted in indigenous insights and brought traditional Mexican food into new territory. So, I took some of these learnings and applied them to this journey. Some of the dishes had Irish roots, others simply carried a series of techniques I had learnt through my years of training, but all took inspiration from Thailand. Any ‘Farang’ could tell you that pandan leaves are a good substitute for vanilla in Thailand or that coconut is used in Gaeng (curry) like we in the west glug cream into our sauces. But nothing gives you the same insight as being on the ground. Almost as fast as the mosquitos sniffed out fresh Irish blood, did I launch myself into the food markets, street stalls and bazaars, making it my duty to sample as much of the local fare as possible. When the internet told me Thailand had a vast array of clams to select from, I knew they could play a part in the menu. It wasn't until I experienced the overwhelming delicious flavours of Prik nam pla dressed over grilled squid in Chinatown that I felt the adrenaline pulsate through me.
A brilliant and accurate description of Bangkok I can’t wait to hear and taste in my mind the rest of your courses. 👏