Sunday is my favourite day of the week. I always go to Skeetas on the marina ; sometimes I walk, sometimes I ride my bike, depending how windy it is and whether I really feel like battling a southerly all the way home on my deadly treadly. I have coffee, chat to other Sunday morning regulars and gaze at the ocean and the boats. I like to do some writing, but mostly it’s where I do my dreaming.
Just over the road from Skeetas are the Geraldton Railway Markets. My girlfriend sells the most amazing granola ever at her stall, (Red Lime Jones, remember that name and that you heard it from me first!) and I take her a coffee to help her get through the early morning start. The Railway Markets is a great little community and I love wandering through the stalls, checking out the produce and chatting to stall owners, catching up with friends. The act of picking up a piece of produce, feeling it gently, smelling it, talking to the stall owner about it and how they use it, asking the lady next to me how she is going to serve it, thinking about the meal I am going to make with it, who will be sharing it. It is such an age old ritual and fills my heart with love and joy.
One of the true characters of the markets is Freddie Fresh. He sells vegetables and seedlings and stuff to make your veggies grow great. Freddie is always happy to give you tips about growing your veggies and how to get rid of bugs – he’s my go-to garden guru! Last week I bought a pawpaw because it was from his tree, they are not my favourite fruit but it’s summer and I thought I could make something fresh and cooling.
It sat in my fruit bowl for a week because I didn’t really know what to do with it, until finally I though if I cut it, it might give me inspiration. But inside, instead of that gorgeous, luscious orange flesh gleaming with shiny black pearls, I found white. It was pretty enough, delicate white with a blush of green and creamy white seeds, but definitely not what I was expecting. First thought, what on earth am I going to do with this, followed quickly by second thought, green papaya salad, yay!!! When I go to Thailand one of the first things I do is look for green papaya salad followed by sticky mango rice. Surely a meal made in heaven.
So the decision was made, all I needed was a recipe. Oh Google, how I love thee!! One of the first recipes I saw was from a TV series, “Luke Nguyen’s Vietnam”. Luke is a Vietnamese Australian chef who owns the Red Lantern, one of Australia’s most famous Vietnamese restaurants. It was probably authentic, and I had all the ingredients…almost! Luke’s recipe called for liquid palm sugar which I didn’t have so, I substituted malt rice syrup. I thought I had snake beans, then I remembered I’d used them all in a vegetable curry last week. But I had bean sprouts so I used them instead .
I loved making this salad, pounding all the ingredients and releasing all those gorgeous smells, the chilli and garlic, then the lime juice. Someone really knew what they were doing when they created those flavours!
And here it is, my slightly modified version of Luke Nguyen’s Green Papaya Salad. It has inspired me to get out my Thai Street Markets book and do some more Thai cooking. I would love to know what your favourite Thai dish is.
GREEN PAPAYA SALAD
INGREDIENTS
- 4 bird’s-eye chillies
- 4 garlic cloves
- 4 snake beans, cut into 3 cm lengths (I used a handful of bean sprouts)
- 1 tomato, sliced (or 5 cherry tomatoes, halved)
- 1 tbsp lime juice
- 2 tbsp dried shrimp
- 1 tbsp liquid palm sugar (I used rice malt syrup)
- 2 tbsp fish sauce
- 200 g shredded green papaya
- 1 tbsp roasted peanuts
METHOD
- Using a large wooden mortar and pestle, pound the chilli.
- Add the garlic and pound. Add the snake beans (bean sprouts) and bruise slightly.
- Add the tomatoes and pound.
- Add the lime juice and dried shrimp.
- Continue pounding, gradually adding the palm sugar (rice malt syrup) and fish sauce.
- Add the papaya. Continue gently pounding while mixing with a spoon for 1 minute.
- Transfer to a serving plate. Garnish with crushed peanuts to serve.
