Gat Luang Diaries IV: A Punjabi Cook, and Gooseberries

Mr. Singh came to Gat Luang's Namdhari Sikh gurdwara from Bangkok and, before that, Punjab. For six years he's been priest and cook at this eighty-year-old center of Namdhari worship in the Gat Luang neighborhood.

When we first visited the gurdwara's kitchen last February, as part of our project to document daily life in this historic neighborhood Mr. Singh was back home in India, and the institution's weekly Friday dinner was prepared instead by a trio of female members. It was good, but there was something about the way our host at the temple spoke of Mr. Singh that made us want to revisit and see him in action.

His kitchen is spotless. Walking into the gurdwara on a Friday afternoon, we're encloaked in an intense  fugue of spices. I expect to encounter a corresponding tumult in the kitchen. Not so. Stainless steel gleams and light bounces off pristine white tiles. On the stove, big pots and a huge wok are arranged in a neat row, each perfectly centered on its burner. Prepared fresh ingredients sit in little bowls arranged tidily on a corner of the counter.

Mr. Singh works alone in the hot space preparing a five-dish meal for sixty, yet his kurta and pajami -- white, as Namdhari tradition dictates -- show no trace of perspiration, no splotches of stray curry.

He moves slowly, gracefully on bare feet, floating from burner to burner, between sink and refrigerator. He doesn't rush but everything gets done. When we arrive Mr. Singh is dicing his homemade paneer, holding a hunk of cheese in one hand and cutting it into cubes with a serious looking curved blade held in the other. The rest of the cheese sits on the counter, beautifully swaddled in a gauzy white scarf as if it had been styled for a photograph.

When he's finished dicing the paneer Mr. Singh deep-fries a few cubes, dusts them with garam masala, and offers us a taste. It's the best I've eaten. Made with milk taken that morning from cows at Chiang Mai University it's buttery and clean, without the rubbery texture that often plagues commercially made paneer. Then he offers hot samosa stuffed with curried potatoes, to dip into tangy tamarind sauce. And there is kheer, more of that creamy milk, lightly sweetened ("For us Indians it would be made sweeter," our host tells us.), laced with cardamom and floating vermicelli and a few tapioca pearls, served hot in metal bowls.

When we arrived Mr. Singh, with his heavy brows, full beard and lush moutache seemed remote and unapproachable, even a bit fierce. But as we praise his food his eyebrows shoot up and his face crinkles into a smile. He is proud of his skill in the kitchen. "You must return tonight for dinner," he says, and we will.

On the counter by the sink in the kitchen are a stainless steel pitcher of cool water and a bowl of amla -- Indian gooseberries -- a seasonal delicacy eaten with spicy dips by northern Thais. At first bite the hard, pitted fruit has no flavor, and then it's sour and bitter, with an astringent finish that sucks all moisture from the mouth.

When you eat this strange fruit water drunk afterwards tastes shockingly sweet. Mr. Singh likes to make amla into a chutney. "Next time you come," he smiles.

A Punjabi saying:

Amle Da Khada

Aur

Shyane Da Keha Bad

Vich Acha Lagdahaey

(Roughly translated for me, by our host at the gurdwara:

Just as the gooseberry has little flavor but makes water taste sweet afterwards, so you do not believe when an elder speaks to you, but learn later in life.)

Comments

[Xmkle]

Hi Robyn!

Love your posts about Gat Luang, Chiang Mai and its food. After most frequent visits to northern Thailand for about two decades, we somehow didn't manage to go there during the last 3 years. This lack of meeting respective friends/food/culture makes me feel sad at times but your stories and your husband's photos really help to compensate that... ;-)

By the way: You mentioned a book about Kad Luang/Warorot Market's centenary in an earlier post. Do you know if/where it's already published? This would be a fantastic idea to put on the whish list I'm currently forced to write for the annual birthday/Xmas business here in cold grey Germany (certainly also good as a tough nut to crack in the 'gift sourcing department' :-)

[Sticky]

doesn't he look stunning? Compliments to the photographer; that 2nd picture is a classic!

[Robyn]

Thank you! It's wonderful, undiscovered, overlooked neighborhood. When we're working there I occasinally see Thai guides leading tourists through, eyes glazed over and clearly bored out of their minds. The guides probably have no idea of this neighborhoods historic importance and multi-ethnic communities. It's one of those places that doesn't seem like much unless someone can bring its past, and its markets, alive for you.

We are working on the book with three Thai contributors who grew up in Gat Luang. It's planned for publication around Songkran, with an accompanying gallery show of Dave's photos from this year-long project. I'll definately announce the book and tell where/how to buy it when it's available. Thank you for reading!

Mark -- Ha, the photog is not sure he's happy with the shot. So it goes.... (I love it too.)

[Kalyan]

loved reading the post and took me back to my trip of Chiang Mai last year...I think I had crossed the Gurudwara as i was trying to find my hotel on the way back from the markets...seeing a gurudwara in the middle of small town at thailand seemed surreal

[Palak Paneer]

I have heard about this gooseberries for years, I don't know how we call this on our local dialect.