Haw mok (also known as mok / amok / ho mok / hor mok, mok pa, etc.), has roots in Cambodia, Laos and Thailand, with plenty of regional quirks distinguishing the different versions. The Cambodian variety utilizes the spice mix Kroeung, while the Lao might involve dill and a different use of banana leaves, although it seems likely that most variations occur from personal preference rather than along strict national lines. All of these preparations, with their baseline of fish mousse simmered in sauce, seem to be derived from the French quenelle (itself rooted in the German knödel), a fine-dining delicacy left behind in Indochina after colonial occupation, then transformed into something entirely new. One important lesson learned too late: kaffir lime leaves should be julienned, not sliced, thus eliminating the need to work through their thick, waxy exteriors.
On a winter visit to Elmhurst’s venerable SriPraPhai, I’d planned to order the Haw Mok, a fish curry custard not commonly found around these parts. It was no longer on the menu, and rather than use MenuPages invaluable ‘Find-a-Food’ function to scare up another version elsewhere, I set down to replicating the dish myself. First, a trip to Bangkok Center Grocery on Mosco Street, where I purchased some Thai essentials, as well as an unfortunate squid snack that’ll be the subject of a future post. Then fresh red snapper from Mermaid’s Garden, and some banana leaves left over from a New Year’s Eve barbacoa, with structuring provided by this recipe. Despite a slightly-too-liquidy broth, which collapsed a few of the wrappers like overfilled backyard pools, the dish came together beautifully, toothsome chunks of fish floating in a curry-flavored custard, the overflow providing perfect seasoning for a side of jasmine rice.
Haw mok (also known as mok / amok / ho mok / hor mok, mok pa, etc.), has roots in Cambodia, Laos and Thailand, with plenty of regional quirks distinguishing the different versions. The Cambodian variety utilizes the spice mix Kroeung, while the Lao might involve dill and a different use of banana leaves, although it seems likely that most variations occur from personal preference rather than along strict national lines. All of these preparations, with their baseline of fish mousse simmered in sauce, seem to be derived from the French quenelle (itself rooted in the German knödel), a fine-dining delicacy left behind in Indochina after colonial occupation, then transformed into something entirely new. One important lesson learned too late: kaffir lime leaves should be julienned, not sliced, thus eliminating the need to work through their thick, waxy exteriors.
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Photographed in front of Edgar Allen Poe's former home on Grand Concourse: one can of Mr. Brown iced coffee. Produced in Taiwan, now using milk from New Zealand after getting tangled up in China's 2008 melamine scandal, these little coffee drinks taste like a sort of muddy take on the glass bottle Frappucino, with a mascot who bears a striking resemblance to 'Big Daddy' from "The Simpsons' Spinoff Showcase."
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