I always tell the server not just mild, Minnesota mild. We live in the Twin Cities, where we
are fortunate enough to have not just Thai, but Hmong, Lao, Vietnamese, Hispanic
and Ethiopian populations, all known for great cuisine. European Minnesotans, however, are
known for their uhm… challenge in encompassing the full range of international
flavors. When you want it hot, say
hot to the server. When you want
it really hot, ask for “Thai Hot” and they will bring you something truly exciting. When you want it mellow, say
“mild”. When you want something
really gentle, tell the server “Minnesota Mild”. Of course, there’s only so much they can do with a Thai Red
Curry, besides just cooking your chicken and vegetables in coconut milk and
lemon grass.
Thai Red Curry is irresistible. The scent as it arrives at the table is citrusy and spicy
and deep and meaty, and then you taste it, and it is sweet and salty and hot,
with heat that spans the range of heats, from the high sharp heat that bites
from your first spoon full to the deep, building heat that burns more and more
as you go.
I order my Minnesota Mild Thai Red Curry with my eyes
open. I know my dinner is going to
punish me. As mild as they will
make it, half way through my plate, my lips will get swollen, and I just won’t
be able to eat any more, no matter how much I want to. At that point I have to make a choice. Do I ask for a take out container or do
I give the rest to my dear husband, who really does want to finish mine, mild
or not? I don’t want to give
it to him, not really. I want to
eat it again for lunch.
The foundation of the Thai Red Curry is Red Curry
Paste. When I ask for my Minnesota
mild what I’m actually asking for is for the chef to add less of this
ingredient, and to the extent that they can add less and still have a curry,
they’re reducing the amount. But
the paste is in large part Thai birds eye chiles (prig kee nu), a very spicy
little member of the capsicum family, ringing in at 50,000 to 100,000 Scoville
units. The very top performing
cayenne pepper can only hope to come up to the bottom of that range. Yow!
I tried making Thai Red Curry at home, with purchased red
curry paste, but of course I got similar results. Too little paste, and it didn’t have any flavor, too much and I just couldn’t eat very
much. I thought to myself, it’s
those peppers. There’s more to the flavor of Thai Red Curry than just
heat. There’s so much there. When you look at the container of
commercially prepared red curry paste there’s a whole string of
ingredients. That’s when I thought
of it – could I make a curry paste that had all (or most) of the flavors I love
with less of the five-alarm prig kee nu mouth burn?
Of course my husband’s reaction was, “Why would you want
to?” Men do not understand these things. My husband and his friends talk about their capacity
to eat hot food as if it proved something about their virility or the worth of
their chosen sports team.
I found a great recipe book by Jennifer Brennan with a Thai
curry paste recipe, I cut the number of bird’s eye chiles in half, leaving the
rest of the recipe just the same, I made up the curry according to the
instructions in the recipe book.
It smelled wonderful, I was so happy! Went to eat it, and it was if anything even hotter than the
store bought version. Sigh. I wonder what Jennifer’s full bore
curry paste is like.
I looked for other recipes. I saw all kinds of variations on the Internet. Some recipes called for 10 birds eyes,
some called for 20, some called for 20 dried and another 10 fresh. There’s a lot of variability among the
ingredients. There was a YouTube
video where a pair of ladies demonstrated making a vegetarian version (no fish
sauce or shrimp paste). Some
people use ground coriander, some people use ground coriander and caraway seeds
(?), some people use white pepper, some use cilantro stems, some use cilantro
roots, nobody uses cilantro leaves, at least not in the paste, it seems. Some people were using a big stone
mortar and pestle traditional among Thai cooks (it is amazing to see these
ladies make the pestle fly – you have to figure those ladies are mighty strong
after years of doing that) others using blenders or food processors. I’m a wimp, I bought the stone mortar
and pestle and used the food processor. Some of these ingredients are like wood chips.
For instance: Galangal, or kha. It’s related to ginger, it is an absolute necessity, nobody
makes red curry paste without it.
And you practically need a saw to cut it. When you’re choosing a kha root at the store, look for
something younger looking, with more of those knob like buds. I have no idea if these younger
sections are more flavorful, but they sure are easier to cut, and you will need
to cut them into chips so that your food processor or blender (or stone mortar)
can handle it with good results.
Another item for a sharp knife: lemon grass. You see it a lot more these days than
you used to, and it smells great.
Like a bay leaf, in a lot of recipes you want to add it to the broth
during cooking and take it out before you eat, but in red curry paste you’re
going to want to peel it, cut the tough bottom stalk off, and cut it into rings
like a green onion, only it is a little more like a piece of bamboo, toughness
wise. There’s only going to be an inch or two of stalk that’s going to have
much flavor/scent to it between the thick white stalk with no/few rings/leaves
and the light/bland area above, so you are going to need a couple three stalks
to get your two heaping tablespoons of slices. Yes, you are going to need to use the knife, relying on the
food processor is going to get you big unground splintery chunks in your paste.
Rendering the lemon grass down to slices makes it possible for them to
disappear into the rest of the ingredients.
Since the problem was that bird’s eye chiles
are so hot, I thought to myself, what if I
found a nice, happy, low test pepper with mellow heat and used as much by
weight as the recipe called for, but with much less scovilles? That might work. I'd still get the fruity part of the pepper flavor, and the color, but without the burn. Trouble is, I didn’t know how much a
dried bird’s eye weighed. So I
used 11 g of dried New Mexico Chiles.
New Mexico Chiles are the ripe version of the Anaheim.
They’re the chile I use in salsa fresca, they’ve got heat, but they’re
manageable. You can put in enough
to get heat in every bite without killing an unsuspecting snacker with a big chunk, so they’re my go to. Anaheims are 1,000 to 1,500 Scovilles. So
that’s what? 100 times less hot than the bird’s eyes. I may have also undershot on the grams I used. Looking back on it, a bird’s eye is probably
only ¼ the size of a New Mexico, so if the recipe calls for 10 bird’s eyes,
then I should probably have used at least 2.5 rather than 2. But at 100 times less spicy, I could have
probably used 10 without too much difficulty.
As it works out,
my second try at Thai Red Curry Paste tasted pretty hot straight out of
the food processor, but cooked up with coconut milk, lime leaves, lemon grass,
nam pla, chicken and vegetables, you could not taste any heat. Any. It was too bland for me. My husband and son, ever encouraging, told me they
thought it was tasty and ate it up.
But my husband used the rest of the second batch of the red curry paste
on his pancakes this morning.
I’m not beaten.
I’m thinking next time Chile de Arbol, in the 15,000 to 30,000 Scoville range. Watch this space for the further
adventures of Minnesota Mild.