Features

Wet noodles and how to prepare the wiggly things

A lady noodle vendor in the all night market in North Pattaya opposite Tiffany.

It is either Anne Landers or her sister Abby who, as a means of penance after she had goofed and written something particularly stupid, prescribed for herself a specific number of lashes with “a wet noodle.”
Obviously she does not want to sound masochistic or too extreme for her sensitive American readers, preferring a wet noodle over a good old fashioned cat-o’nine-tail. I read the sisters’ advice columns in order to get a better idea what is worrying the ordinary citizens of that vast country, but so far I have not ceased to be amazed by the pettiness and silliness of some of the correspondents. Noodles indeed.
The last time I wrote about noodles was in November 1995 and previous to that in August or September of the same year, embellishing the legend of Marco Polo’s odyssey home when he carried upon his body the recipe for “Mee” or Chinese noodles, which his Chinese sweetheart, Schwee Kae, had given him as a last farewell. Mama Polo back in Venice recreated Marco’s “Mee” which, because of linguistic problems, soon became Macaroni. It was a wonderful romantic story until some meddlesome woman in London, England, spewed a theory that Marco never travelled to China at all and that all his stories about the Celestial Empire were hearsay.
That the Chinese ate noodles before anybody else seems an established fact. The northern Chinese have probably been eating noodles for as long as they had wheat, which is for about 5000 years, but Reay Tannahill, an expert on the history of food, says that noodles actually did not become respectable in China until the 16th century. Before that, they were considered a rather coarse and vulgar peasant food. Noodles in China are primarily a staple of the north as rice is in south. But noodles may also be made of rice.
The fantastically popular rice noodle, probably introduced here by the Teaw Chiu Chinese, the dominant ethnic Chinese population group in Thailand, are called “Kuay Tiow” a Chinese name which is also used for the same noodles in Indonesia and Malaysia. Another popular rice noodle dish is called “Khanom Jeen”. It is made with fresh noodles and served with spicy sauces and curries, eaten with vegetables and the leaves of the banana flower called “Hua Plee”. The adjective “Jeen” or Chinese seems to implicate that this noodle was originally a Chinese dish, although it has become a typical delicacy of Thailand and neighbouring countries like Burma and Laos.
Noodles were adopted everywhere in the world. They’re versatile and easy to keep when dried. A favourite in Burma is called “Khaukswe”, a kind of rice noodle topped with a curry made with coconut cream. A Shan dish of similar character is called “Khowsen” which is again similar to the Thai northern speciality “Kow Swe”. Rice noodles are also popular in Laos where the most favourite noodle dish is Khao Poon, which is practically the same as the Thai Khanom Jeen. The preparations and accompaniments however seem to differ slightly from the Thai versions. Fresh rice noodles tend to ferment easily and should not be kept for too long.
One popular variety of a rice noodle dish is called “Kuey Tiow Pad Thai” or “Sautéed Rice Noodles Thai Style”. Thinly cut rice noodles are fried with garlic, onion grass, diced pork or chicken, small fiery red (artificially coloured) dried shrimps, coarsely ground peanuts, diced bean curd, a little tamarind juice, light coloured soy, fish sauce, bean sprouts and an egg. It is served with banana flower, strands of onions grass (Kuchai) and powdered dried chillies. I find this a most original and delicious dish as long as the peanuts are fresh (the importance of this is not always realised by the cooks) and the amount of sugar is kept to a minimum. At one time, while in Haad Yai in the south of Thailand, we ordered “Pad Thai” in a restaurant and were served this dish without the noodles. It was delicious just the same. “Pad Thai” is sold in most late night food markets and in many small restaurants in Pattaya as well as all over the country.
One of the most memorable noodles I have eaten was a dish I ordered in a restaurant in Kowloon, many years ago. I recall that it was a “dark, cold and stormy night”, I did not know anybody in town and felt a bit lonely and wistfully sad but also quite hungry. I wandered into a small, almost empty restaurant in one of the small alleys of the business district and ordered “Beef Noodles in Soup” from the extensive menu. Served in a kind of vase or mug, the dish was delicious indeed. It was made with beef and black fragrant mushrooms, thin wheat noodles and cooked in a mouth watering dark brown sauce or soup. On a later visit I tried to find the shop again but to no avail, it had disappeared like so many other good things and I sometimes think it could all have been a dream.
Noodle dishes are usually served as a last course in a Chinese banquet and one is not supposed to empty the plate as this would be impolite, an insult to the host, telling him or her that there wasn’t enough to eat. I wonder what “Dear Abby” and her sister would have to say about that custom! At home, at a family dinner it is the other way around and every little morsel of rice or noodles have to be finished, lest the children will become pock marked when they grow up.
Here follows my version of beef noodles inspired by my Kowloon experience, although I don’t claim it to be the same. When I prepared it the other day, it was approved by some visiting connoisseurs who declared it gustatory (I hate that word for some reason).

Notice: The “Dolf Riks Restaurant” will be closed for holidays and upcountry merit making from Sunday May 25 until Sunday June 3, 1997. We will serve you agian on June 3, 1997. We apologise for causing any inconvenience. Bua Thong and Dolf Riks.