I have
occasionally posted about Magic here, including excerpts from Eliphas Levi's History of
Magic,
Joshua Trachtenberg's Jewish
Magic and Superstition, even an odd piece about ancient Nabatean
magic beliefs,
which was probably fanciful and built (appropriately) on a foundation of sand.
My own personal form
of magic, i.e., my only magic trick, is the ability to empty rooms when preparing “fishy” foods at
home. It never fails.
Here are two great fishy recipes from Burma taken from Under The Golden Pagoda, The Best Of Burmese Cooking by Aung Aung Taik (San Francisco, Chronicle Books, 1993). The
first is for Ngapi Ye, a Burmese anchovy
sauce similar to other Asian fish sauces (as well as ancient Roman garum), but distinctly
different also. The second is for the Burmese staple condiment, Balachung.
Ngapi Ye (Anchovy
Sauce)
Among Burmese, there
is a saying: “If one hasn’t
eaten ngapi ye, one isn’t a true-blooded Burmese.” Though I call it a sauce, it is actually a
dish unto itself. One simply enjoys it together with any raw vegetable
and steamed rice. In Burma, true ngapi ye is made from fermented dried fish, which many foreign noses find quite impolite. Some say
it is worse than Limburger cheese. Kipling referred to it as “fish pickled when
it ought to have been buried.” With the
availability of canned anchovies in America, this dish can be made in a
diplomatic manner. For those seeking a more authentic version, look for
bottled fermented fish in any Asian market.
2 cans ( 1 ¾ oz.
each) flat anchovy fillets in olive oil, drained, or 4 oz. bottled fermented
dried fish
½ cup water
¼ cup shrimp powder
1 ½ teaspoons
crushed dried red chile pepper
¼ cup freshly
squeezed lemon juice
1 ½ tablespoons
finely minced garlic
Combine the shrimp and water in a small pan over
medium heat. Bring to a boil and boil for 5 minutes, stirring and mashing
the fish with a wooden spoon.
Remove from the heat.
In a small bowl, combine the mashed fish with all the
remaining ingredients and mix well.
Serves 4.
Balachung (Shredded
Dried Shrimp Condiment)
Like ngapi ye, the anchovy dip, balachung (which is also
called pazunchauk
ngapi gyaw), is widely eaten as a condiment with meals. Or it is simply eaten alone with plain steamed rice. When a Burmese family travels, a container of balachung is always at hand. Stored in a
closed jar at room temperature, it will keep for three months. Spread it on toast to make delicious sandwiches.
1 cup dried shrimp
1 yellow onion
1 cup vegetable oil
½ teaspoon ground
turmeric
8 cloves garlic,
thinly sliced
1 teaspoon paprika
½ teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons
crushed red dried chile pepper
2 tablespoons
distilled white vinegar
2 teaspoons
granulated sugar
Shred the dried shrimp in a blender and set
aside. Cut the onion in half vertically and slice the halves thinly to
form crescent-shaped fans.
Heat the oil in a frying pan over medium heat.
Add onion and turmeric and cook until the onion begins to color, about 3
minutes. Add the garlic and continue to cook until the onion and garlic
are golden brown, about 6 minutes.
Add the shredded shrimp, paprika, salt, chile pepper,
vinegar, and sugar and stir-fry for 3 minutes.
Remove from the heat and let cool to room temperature
before serving. Save the leftovers in a closed jar.
Serves 6.
NOTE: Here is a funny story about Burma. A long time ago, shortly after we acquired our first cat, U, Caroline and I had dinner at a Burmese restaurant in downtown Manhattan. We wanted
to try Burmese cuisine and this place, New York’s first Burmese restaurant as I
recall, had opened to good notices.
We had a wonderful
meal and, chatting to our waiter, we revealed that our cat had a
Burmese name.
Although U was a female Russian Blue, we originally intended to adopt a Burmese
cat and had decided on the name “U” after U Thant, the famous United
Nations Secretary-General.
Our waiter looked at
us quizzically and then went into conference with a couple of
colleagues. Soon all of them were merrily laughing. Being nice
guys they explained that “We are all U.” What they
meant was that we had given our
girl cat a name meaning “Mister” in Burmese, which was funny.
Tiny, beautiful,
magical (she could de-and re-materialize more effectively
than any other cat I’ve known except for Claude, our Persian), and quite fearsome, the name completely suited her. Years later when a
neighbor’s son came to our house to drop off a book, he brought his nice
but yappy dog with him.
As we opened the
door, U silently sprang from a
hiding place
stretching her arms and claws in what cat books
describe as “full display” position.
Caroline cried out “U-sie, U-sie,
stop!”
Greg looked at her and said “You named your cat
Uzi?”
I’m quite certain I could live happily on a diet mainly consisting of rice, these
condiments, tea
and sometimes wine, beer and the occasional dose of something distilled.
This is great, sustaining
and optimistic brain and spirit food.
