Damn, I Am Completely Out Of Dried Thai Bird’s Eye

Happy poets who write found poetry go pawing through popular culture like sculptors on trash heaps. They hold and wave aloft usable artifacts and fragments: jingles and ad copy, menus and broadcasts — all objet trouvés, the literary equivalents of Warhol’s Campbell’s soup cans and Duchamp’s bicycle.

By entering a found text as a poem, the poet doubles its context. The original meaning remains intact, but now it swings between two poles. The poet adds, or at any rate increases, the element of delight. This is an urban, youthful, ironic, cruising kind of poetry. It serves up whole texts, or interrupted fragments of texts. – Annie Dillard

Kris Yenbamroong’s Pad Thai

Four ounces dried rice stick noodles
two tablespoons sugar
two tablespoons fish sauce


two tablespoons distilled white vinegar
three tablespoons vegetable oil

One egg

One cup bean sprouts
A quarter-pound brined chicken thighs,

or extra-firm tofu,

or large peeled shrimp, whatever.
Two green onions,

cut on an angle into 2-inch slices
two tablespoons roasted peanuts
one teaspoon roasted chili powder,

or to taste Lime wedges

For the chili powder:
Two cups dried Thai bird’s eye, pulla,

or árbol chiles, stemmed.

In a dry wok,

roast the chiles over medium-low heat,

stirring occasionally,

until they turn a deep, dark crimson

(almost brown) and give off a sweet

and earthy smell

(not burnt).

The process shouldn’t take

oh, I don’t know, what the hell,

more than ten minutes,

but it pays to be vigilant

in making sure

the chiles toast evenly

and slowly.

Remove the chiles from the heat

and let them rest

until cool enough to handle.

Transfer to a food processor,

blender, or spice grinder

and grind

until the mixture is slightly finer than

the crushed red pepper you’d find

at a pizza shop.

Be careful not to breathe

in any chile dust

when you remove the lid.

Store in a sealed container

in a cool, dry place

for up to three months.

To make the Pad Thai:

Soak the noodles

in warm water for 30 minutes,

until pliable enough

to bend around

a finger.

If you’re not

using them immediately,

you can drain the noodles

and keep them

in the fridge

until ready to use.

In a small bowl,

stir together

the sugar, fish sauce, and vinegar

to make a sauce.

Heat an empty wok

over high heat

until it begins to smoke,

then swirl

in the oil.

Once the oil is shimmering,

add the chicken or tofu

and stir-fry

until the meat turns opaque

but isn’t fully cooked,

which should take

about a minute.

Less time for shrimp;

they will cook a little more quickly.

Add the noodles and sauce,

then continue to stir-fry,

constantly stirring

until the noodles absorb the sauce,

about another minute.

Use your spatula to push

aside the noodles

and leave them there,

making an empty space

in the center of the wok.

Crack the egg

into the empty space

and let it cook

until the edges start

to set, 15-20 seconds.

Use the edge of your

spatula to break up

and rough scramble

the egg,

then toss it back

in with the noodles

while the egg is still soft.

Once the egg looks

mostly cooked,

remove from the heat

and throw in the bean

sprouts and green onions,

tossing thoroughly to combine.

Transfer to a plate

and garnish

with the peanuts,

chili powder,

and a lime wedge.


Enjoy.

Sorry about the bird’s eyes

missing.

I just couldn’t do it.

Excerpted from Night + Market:

Delicious Thai Food to Facilitate Drinking

and Fun-Having

Amongst Friends

The language of love is universal. Food, not so much.

Leave a Reply!