Where is the real Thai taste?

I am Thai. A Thai who grew up in a modern household; yet, I had the fortunate opportunity to witness the greatness of the Thai past. I was the last generation of my family to see the real Thai way from within my very own teakwood fence.

I remember Bangkok in a calmer way than most people now. The coolness of fresh air with the faint sweet aroma of Thai flowers - DokJumpee, DokPuth, DokMali, DokKaew, and DokPiguln- in combination with the sound of brass bells from a wooded tram on which I would ride along Rajchadahmneun Avenue, was the Bangkok that I knew. My mother was the oldest daughter in a family of five children.

Back then, she and her eldest brother were the two who were married and had their own children. We lived in one of three houses on my maternal grandparents' large property on the west side of the Grand Chaopraya, the river so deep that it supports not only domestic traffic but is also the path for international freight ships, making it the major blood vessel of the country.

My grandparents occupied the largest house, also the first house at the front of the property, which faced a major road but sat far enough back and was disguised by many large and shady fruit trees. My eldest uncle and his family lived in the second house in the middle, and our house was set farthest back on the property. I was very happy with my never-ending activity from playing with my playmates 'from tree-to tree,' and waiting every afternoon for a Chinese "Olieng," or iced coffee, iced tea and sweet snack goodies, vendor to arrive in his boat in the canal- "klong-" that marked our property line and the neighbor's in the back.

I had many playmates, and I vaguely remember they all lived with us on our property- as to where on the property, I wasn't sure. A few years ago, I asked my mother about them and received confirmation that those were our- or, rather, my grandparents'- hired help and their families who had been there since my maternal great-grandmother's day. I was surprised that I could remember back that far, since my mother said that they had moved out when I was very young. She also confirmed my memory of the tram but said that it stopped running soon after I was born. I don't know if I'm dreaming, but I have flashes of memory of this wonderful time, here and there, throughout my life.

My great-grandmother- the mother of my maternal grandmother- represented the real Thai extended family. She was a Thai-Mon. (Mon - the nation that got swallowed up by Myanmar-Burma back then. The Mons relocated to Siam since the Golden Age of Ayuthaya.) The word "Thai" means freedom, and coming to Thailand meant to open the door of opportunity among the peaceful people and under the cool shade of the Great King.

My great-grandfather was a Chinese boy who came to Bangkok with his family. He grew up to be an inventor, an author, a scholar, and a businessman who owned and operated an international trading company with his old country, China. Along with a British physician, Dr. Bradley, they started the first English language newspaper in Thailand and also invented the first Thai typeset for the typewriter. Later, my great-grandfather was granted a title from the King.

He married my great-grandmother and had three children together, with one boy at each end. That makes my grandmother the middle and the only daughter. My grandmother told me that, one day, her father just vanished - she never saw him again. Months later, word got to Bangkok that he was robbed and killed by pirates in the South China Sea, which left my great-grandmother a widow running the household of a hundred people, all the while taking over her husband's business with full force in her two small hands.

She did alright, for all three of her children turned out to be very fine people, and they were very valuable assets to both Thailand and to mankind.

My grandmother told me that her mother worked hard to keep the family together: not only financially, but household-wise. She was the CEO of her own enterprise. The help and their families would take instructions from their "department heads" who answered only to my grandmother. They tended to their daily chores religiously. In return, my great-grandmother paid them wages, put their children in schools and took care of their overall well-being, and they all lived in harmony in my great- grandmother's property.

This isn't bad at all for a single mother a little more than a hundred years ago. I didn't have the honor of meeting her, for she passed when my mother was in her teens, but it felt great to imagine what our relationship would have been like, especially since my strong-willed, stubborn, quick-tongued mother was my great-grandmother's LEAST favorite grandchild. I think she would have liked me a lot!

The kitchen was the highest traffic, busiest place in the house. I never saw my great-grandmother's kitchen, but I saw ours in my grandparents' compound where I grew up. It was a large extension of the main house, or even a separate building on its own. In my early days, my grandparents had to let go most of the families since, without my great-grandmother, and with both my great-uncles' families scattered both in Bangkok and abroad, there wasn't a need to feed a hundred mouths a day anymore (only thirty!).

Even though the kitchen size got tighter, though, it was still busy. What we refer to today as the "budget manager" and the "kitchen manager"- who was also the chef and was often accompanied by a "basket carrier"- would perform their daily food shopping at a local market within walking distance of our house every morning. After they came back, the kitchen preparation started, and I would see people in groups: the meat (of the day) group, fish (everyday) group, vegetables - peeler, chopper. Most of the time, someone would be frying finely chopped garlic in large quantities.

Every once in a while, someone would roast Thai chili "prikkeenoo" and someone else would grind it. For certain, when they saw me lurk around in the kitchen, they would yell, "Khun (Miss) Gafaae (my name)!!! please step out of my kitchen!" - and this would happen a hundred times a day. The curry paste making would take place every single day. Basic Thai curry paste consists of prik (roasted large chili) - kapi (aromatic paste made of shrimp and salt) - homm (small red onion) - gratiem (small-cloved garlic) - kha (galanga) - takrai (lemongrass) - pew magrude (kaffir lime skin) - loog pakchee (coriander seed) - jira and prikthai (black peppercorn) - all hand-ground finely in a mortar.

Nowadays, we use an electric blender, but you know what? It doesn't release the flavor and aroma the way the pestle would have done the trick, so I find myself going back to hand -grinding the ingredients. And if you happen to come across a "Thai" recipe for curry that tells you to throw into an electric blender ingredients other than I mentioned, name it anything you want but "Thai". - It might even turn out to be somebody's most delicious out-of-this-world curry dish - but it is NOT Thai curry.

A good (bad) example was a famous food show where the host makes a Thai curry and calls for basil leaves, lemon grass, ginger, cumin, yellow (Indian) curry, ground chili pepper, peanuts, and coconut milk - all blended together in a blender, then stir-fried with chicken and garden variety vegetables - that is in no way a Thai dish, but is that chef's dish. I feel this way with all kinds of dishes that I make. For example, my family loves to come over when I make meatballs and pasta, but I don't call my dish Italian because, as I put in ingredients according to my instinct and observation, I know in my heart it is not authentic. It's delicious, but it isn't Italian. Of course, when I have a chance to learn the art of making Italian food I won't hesitate.

Tip: You can simplify by using a manufactured brand of curry, "Maesri". Blend in one-half white or sweet or red onion for every can you use. Then fry the paste in hot oil as normal. The onion will help fix whatever makes the curry "not quite right" and you and your taste buds will have a better impression and perception of "Thai food."

Tip: You can learn to make Thai curry paste the way a Thai person has learned how from his/her own mother in Thailand. All you need is the list of CORRECT ingredients.

One thing that never ceases to amaze me is that, when I was very young, although Thai architecture had included the "farang" or foreign/western kitchen in its construction to be furnished along with the "farang" appliances, some Thais felt better if they built another kitchen separate from the house so that the hired help could perform their chopping, pounding, deep-frying, etc. freely - some even with the use of charcoal stoves and burners.

To each her/his own in this case, but once we built a modern house we adapted the Thai cooking to the farang-western way. One thing that we preserved, though, is the original taste and quality of the Thai dishes that we make. I am not against how just about everyone knows of Thai food; and, in fact, I am proud, and would like to share my knowledge in cooking Thai food. All famous chefs and restaurant owners out there have already put themselves in the position of teaching and sharing the knowledge.

It will only be nice if they are responsible and honest with their offers. My hope is that people who make up "Thai" recipes will understand the basics and the make-up of the food, not just follow someone famous who mixes together exotic (and not-so) herbs and spices with some chopped peanuts, coconut milk and sugar and calls it "Thai." The sad thing is, when I mumbled that "This is not Thai", whoever heard me got all upset and responded, "This ain't Thailand. You want Thailandise food you go back there."

A chef, I'm not, a Thai, I am.