Chapter 2
A Seafood Culture
The scintillating light of the early morning dances on the rippling waves as they gently lap upon the shore. Another day is dawning on a quiet stretch of the gulf coast.
Nimble feet move swiftly to and fro, into the water and out, as if dancing in rhythm with the waves. They sink into soft wet sand, then rise into cool morning air, before sinking again into sand and sea. Sun-darkened hands grasp onto rope and net as muscled arms stretch and pull. Wrinkled skin on bare feet betray this lively spirit, who's been up and about long before dawn's first light.
Side by side with next of kin, the fisherman weaves in and out, working his way up the sandy stretch: casting, pulling, emptying, folding, and casting yet again. Silhouettes in the distance down the shore dance along like shadows in step, as neighbors from the village work for their morning's catch. Faint sounds of voices talking, singing, humming, laughing, drift by from time to time, carried by the soft sea breezes. Soon, the first glimpse of the waking sun will greet the villagers from beyond the misty horizon.
Little fishes flip and flop as the cast net is drawn out of nutrient-rich waters. Into buckets and baskets they go, soon to be gutted and cleaned for the fisherman's kitchen, for markets near or far, or for drying racks to preserve them for monsoon days when swelling seas keep even the bravest soul safely home.
Beyond the shore, small wooden boats are rowed from spot to spot, and lines are dropped in hopes of hooking bigger fish. Nets strung on wooden hoops scoop up smaller fare swimming close to the water's surface during this cool time of morning. Further out, long-tail boats chug about, setting and collecting traps for squid, cuttlefish, and crustaceans. These dangle from recycled-plastic-bottle floats, each marked by a pole topped with a colorful flag. Men and women -- old, middle-aged, and young -- all help out, whether on shore or in boats off shore, in carving out a living from the sea.
From beyond the horizon, larger fishing boats will soon appear, returning from an early morning's catch, or a full night's excursion out to sea. At the village pier, different boats prepare to leave, loading nets and ice in oversized coolers for a day's journey to harvest other species of nature's bounty.
Come evening, when the sand and shallow waters, warmed by the hot tropical sun, cool, activity resumes along the shore. Men, women, and children, armed with sticks and woven baskets, wade ankle deep in clear, dark waters, as if taking a leisurely stroll, gathering clams.
The day's activities witnessed on this quiet stretch of coastline are repeated on numberless other stretches of Thailand's long sunrise coast -- from its eastern border with Cambodia, across the eastern seaboard, then curving south down the peninsula, until the Gulf of Thailand opens into the South China Sea and beyond. These western shores of the mighty Pacific, with warm equatorial waters, are a rich haven for abundant varieties of marine life.
Across the narrow southern peninsula lies yet another shore, Thailand's sunset coast, on the enchanting Andaman Sea. Here, on the eastern shores of the Indian Ocean, can be found dazzling beaches, punctuated here and there by dramatic limestone karsts; mangrove swamps, spawning grounds of precious marine resources; and countless idyllic islands, islets, and rocky outcroppings, surrounded by extensive reefs and eerie underwater caves, home to innumerable species of fish, crustaceans, and mollusks. Here, deeper waters and a current different from that of the Pacific brings a differing mix of marine life, giving the country an extraordinary range of wonderful seafood to serve up at the dinner table and to export to seafood-loving cultures around the world.
"Fish Bridges"
While most of the catch of small fishing villages scattered along the kingdom's two extensive coastlines are consumed locally, fleets of large trawlers work the deeper waters of both oceans, bringing in their mammoth hauls to large fish piers in major seaport towns. These piers are aptly called "fish bridges" (sapahn bplah), bridges over which marine life crosses from their watery world into the world of human consumption. These bridges are entry points from which thousands of tons of seafood are packed daily into refrigerated trucks and sped to city markets and processing houses, where they are prepared and frozen or canned for shipment to markets abroad.
In contrast to the quaint fishing scenes, the fish bridges are a bustling madhouse from early morning when the first trawlers arrive, continuing on for hours until the last fish from the last boat is sold. Frenzied activity is the norm, as millions of fish are unloaded, sorted, and hastily moved through chaotic crowds of haggling buyers and sellers, finally to be repacked with ice and loaded onto cars and trucks. Agents for wholesalers, distributors, export houses, canning factories, large retailers, and restaurants arrive early, staking their spots so that they don't miss out on any opportunity to strike their deals for the day. Big money will change hands and savvy agents stand to make a hefty sum with their shrewd bargaining skills.
Fish are unloaded huge barrel by barrel, overflowing case by case, and dumped onto concrete floors of the sheltered piers. Mountainous heaps of small fish are purchased by the lot and hauled off to processing houses. Less overwhelming mounds are sorted out by type and size, the larger and more prized fishes lying mostly single file on the floor. Price tags with large numbers written on cardboard are placed alongside each of the sorted piles. Here and there between large groupings can even be found some rather small batches, with maybe half a dozen or so fish of the same type and size -- clearly suitable for small-market vendors, who provide an assortment of varieties for their customers, or small restaurants.
On the outer fringes of the fish piers, small groups of women and men sit in corners cleaning fish for particular agents and wholesalers. Their experience shows as they excavate enormous mountains with great agility -- scaling, gutting, filleting, and whatever else they have been contracted to do. The cleaned fish are then loaded onto waiting refrigerated trucks and rushed off to market, processing house, or packaging plant. Of course, the big mounds of guts, heads, tails, fins, and bones left behind are not thrown out but are, in turn, sold to be processed into animal feed and fertilizer.
Besides fish harvested from the sea, fish and shrimp farms along both coasts yield a tremendous added tonnage, making Thailand one of the world's premier exporters of frozen seafood products. Large rectangular ponds dug in flatlands near the shore are filled with water pumped in from the sea. In these aerated pools are raised some of the world's best tiger prawns -- so lusciously succulent, plump, tasty, and sweet. Most of them will end up on dinner tables in faraway lands.
The Birth of Seafood
With coastal waters so abundantly endowed, it would seem that fresh fish, crustaceans, and mollusks from the sea would naturally have constituted a major source of food for the Thai people since time immemorial. Actually, the mass consumption of fresh marine creatures is a relatively recent development in the country's seven-hundred-year history, and in world history.
In fact, the word seafood was not even coined until the nineteenth century -- by Americans -- to group in one word all edible marine creatures, including fish, crustaceans, and mollusks. Initially, the English adamantly objected to this all-inclusive word to describe such a vast array of marine life but, in the end, the word caught on, and, by the close of World War II, it had become widely accepted. Like other languages, the Thai word for seafood, ah-hahn talay, most probably came from a literal translation of the American term, although it was not clear when this was first adopted.
Prior to the development of technology which made ice readily available, the consumption of fresh seafood was by necessity limited to populations in coastal towns and to seafood caught in waters in close proximity to shoreline (that is, shallow-water fish, mostly smaller varieties), which must be served the same day in order to be fresh. Because seafood spoiled rapidly without ice and refrigeration, especially in the tropics, most fish caught far out at sea were salted, dried, or pickled to preserve them from spoiling during the hours that it would take fishing boats to return to shore. Keeping them alive in tanks of cool seawater would be an alternative, but it was far from practical in terms of labor, space, equipment required, and cost.
For centuries, the preservation of food by salting, drying, pickling, or smoking was commonplace in cultures worldwide, and was applied not only to seafood, but also to meats and vegetables. Well-known examples that come to mind include salt-cured and smoked ham, beef jerky, corned beef, salt cod, preserved anchovies, pickled herring, and smoked salmon. In Thailand, a wide variety of seafood had, for generations, been preserved by salting, drying, and pickling. Many of these traditional seafood products continue to be staple foods and indispensable flavoring ingredients in today's Thai kitchen. Among them are fish sauce, shrimp paste, dried shrimp and cuttlefish, salted and pickled crab and clams, and various kinds of salted, dried, and pickled fish.
It was not until the eighteenth century that ice was first made, and it took until the following century for the icebox to come into widespread use. The refrigerator made its debut in the second decade of the twentieth century, replacing the icebox in fairly recent history. The advent of the icebox, followed later by refrigeration units, made it possible for fishing vessels to keep their catch of ocean fish fresh until they reached retail markets, restaurants, and home kitchens. It was around this time when fresh seafood first became readily available, not just in coastal areas but also to inland population centers, that the word seafood was born in America -- a country in which private capital made possible the rapid application of advances in technology to create a new breed of fishing vessels, railroad and trucking units, and supermarket counters.
Ice was imported into Thailand for the first time during the reign of King Rama V, in the latter part of the nineteenth century. This was followed soon after by the establishment of domestic ice-production factories. Due to their high cost, refrigerators remained a luxury until the last few decades of the previous millennium, during which the Thai fishery industry expanded dramatically, and emerged as a significant supplier of frozen seafood products to the world.
A Fish and Rice Culture
Although the consumption of fresh seafood is a relatively new development, fish has long been one of the most important sources of food for the Thai people and is inseparable from Thai culture, because Thailand, along with her neighbors in much of Southeast Asia, sits on a very fertile drainage basin and, for centuries, the vast network of rivers and waterways has blessed the people of the region with a wealth of freshwater fish, as well as freshwater crustaceans and mollusks.
Since the kingdom's early years, the daily meals of the people throughout the country have consisted of rice and fish. Fish as a food is second only to rice. It is said that both come with the water; therefore, they belong together as an indivisible pair. To eat rice is to eat fish, and, by fish, what is meant is freshwater fish from the rivers, streams, canals, ponds, lakes, and flooded fields during the rainy season.
An inscription on stone dating back seven hundred years to the days of Sukhothai, not long after the kingdom was founded, spoke of fish and rice, and how the abundance of these two natural resources was a measurement of the happiness of the people and the prosperity of the land. "...In the water there is fish, in the fields there is rice..." This famous line from the ancient inscription is still a standard by which rural people measure their contentment with their easygoing lifestyle. To some degree, it still describes the abundance of the land, an abundance that is water based, and the water comes freely each year with the monsoons.
Thailand essentially has two main seasons of approximately equal length -- the wet season and the dry season. Every year, when the rains come in their full glory following months of dry weather, the rivers and canals overflow their banks, flooding the fields. It is at this time that farmers work the fields, planting their main crop of rice. When they are done working in the fields, the villagers band together and go out to wherever there is water to catch fish. This family and village activity is engaged in with great merriment. The season of working the fields is the time when water flows in freely. With the water comes fish, and, wherever the water goes, the fish goes. The villagers catch enough fish to eat fresh and to dry, salt, pickle, and preserve for the remainder of the year.
I still recall with great fondness my own childhood experiences with fish that flow in with the monsoon waters. Whenever a big downpour brought flash floods, my brothers and I wasted no time rushing out into our front yard, and even onto the streets, with our buckets to catch fish. The water was clear and fish were everywhere, even in the smallest puddles! Those excitement- and fun-filled days are forever engraved in my memory, and in the memories of many others of my generation, and those before us.
For centuries prior to the days of modern development in the second half of the twentieth century, the inland waters of Thailand and other Southeast Asian countries were indeed blessed by extraordinary abundance. By some accounts, this region was known to be one of the world's richest grounds for freshwater fish. There were countless varieties, too numerous to name, some very specific to particular streams and wetlands. Foreign explorers who pioneered their way into the region could not help but marvel at this natural bounty in the journals they kept and the letters they sent home to families and associates. Among them was Marco Polo, who described the freshwater fish here as among "the best in the world."
Much of the abundance can be explained by the lay of the land and its fertility. The innumerable rivers and waterways that flow through the region are surrounded on both banks by vast fertile flatlands and alluvial plains with natural contours and dips. During the heavy rains of the monsoon season, when the rivers flood their banks, nutrients from the surrounding land are washed into the water, providing a bountiful supply of food. The time of high water, from May through October, naturally coincides with the spawning season for most varieties of freshwater fish found here.
Fish, fish eggs, and fry flow with the water over the flooded flatlands and grow quickly in the nutrient-rich waters. Later in the season, when the water recedes, they become trapped in temporary ponds and waterholes, or in year-round lakes, where they fatten to a good-eating size. These temporary pools provide a welcome source of food and fishing entertainment for villagers until the pools gradually dry up toward the middle of the dry season, some not too long before the next rains begin.
During the early part of the dry season, when the weather is cool, the fish are fattest and richest tasting after months of endless feasting. This coincides with the time of year when new-crop rice, harvested following the monsoon season, is ready for eating. Hence, the common saying "new rice, fat fish" tells people the time for good eating and prosperity has arrived -- a time for rejoicing in the bountiful harvest of both their favorite foods. The saying is extended to mean whatever is new is just right, much like the fullness and bliss a newlywed couple experiences.
Numerous other sayings and proverbs using fish as a metaphor reflect the importance of fish in Thai culture. "Dig pond, lure fish" is one especially rooted in the natural abundance that flows in freely with the monsoon waters. Instead of digging ponds to stock with fish, villagers who live in the flatlands dig ponds to attract fish from nearby rivers and other natural bodies of water to swim in with the flooding waters. This saying is extended to refer to concocted schemes that fool or entice gullible people.
Of course, in many parts of Thailand today, ponds dug for fish must be stocked with baby fry purchased elsewhere. The overwhelming abundance of freshwater life that once existed has dwindled with the coming of modern development, which has seen many dams built, drying up countless streams and wetlands that in the past supported bountiful water life, and brought industrialization to poison major rivers and their tributaries with untreated toxic discharges.
The destruction of habitat has meant the extinction of innumerable species of delicious freshwater fish, and the remaining varieties in natural bodies of water are being threatened. With the Thai love for the taste of freshwater fish, a growing aquaculture business has sprung up to ensure the supply of fish. Most of the freshwater fish sold in city markets today is farm raised. As expertise in aquaculture increases, it is hoped that many threatened species will be added to the numbers farmed.
Thai fish aficionados, however, insist that farm-raised fish are not half as tasty as those that grow naturally on nutrients in running waters, and make special trips into the countryside to savor the delectable flavors of wild fish, especially during the season of "new rice, fat fish." If you should happen into Thailand during the beautiful months of December, January, and February, join them in the countryside for an unforgettable feast, which may forever change your opinion about freshwater fish.
While modernization has brought about a decline in the abundance of freshwater fish, it has, on the other hand, greatly increased the availability of marine fish, which, in urban areas, has replaced many freshwater varieties. Because freshwater and saltwater fish, crustaceans, and mollusks cook up similarly, seafood will be used in the remainder of this book to include all freshwater species. Many traditional recipes for freshwater fish will likewise be applied to saltwater varieties.
Fish and Rice: A Healthy Diet
A growing body of research points to the healthful properties of seafood, especially fish, making the traditional Thai diet of rice and fish appear more and more appealing to people concerned about fat intake and calories. The Thai way of dining, in which plain, unseasoned, no-fat-added, steamed rice is the centerpiece of the meal, with the nonrice dishes as accompaniments, cuts down further on calories. Furthermore, because much Thai food is spicy, smaller quantities of the highly flavored protein dishes are eaten. There are also plenty of nutritional benefits to be gained from the herbs, spices, and other ingredients liberally used in Thai cooking.
Seafood is an excellent source of complete protein, which is easily digestible, making nutrients readily available to the body. Compared to meat and poultry, seafood is significantly lower in fat and calories; this includes oily fish with a relatively high fat content. Seafood is also rich in iodine, calcium, phosphorus, iron, zinc, potassium, and B vitamins, especially niacin, pantothenic acid, B6, and B12. Moreover, the fat in fish is a good fat, containing essential omega-3 fatty acids, recognized by medical experts as fundamental in maintaining good health. These fats play a role in keeping arteries clear, and also benefit the central nervous system.
In addition to the healthfulness of seafood, the many fresh herbs used in Thai cooking contribute nutritional benefits and healing qualities. For instance, chillies and garlic -- two generously used flavoring ingredients -- are known for their antioxidant properties, which help neutralize damaging free radicals before they can harm healthy cells. Each has become the focus of studies addressing the most critical health concerns of modern times -- heart disease, cancer, and immune dysfunction.
High in vitamin C, chillies have been known through the ages to benefit the circulatory system -- cleaning the blood of undesirable cholesterol, keeping the blood vessels supple and healthy, improving circulation and, thereby, increasing the supply of nutrients and oxygen to the cells of the body. Garlic, on the other hand, has been shown to reduce total cholesterol levels by gobbling bad LDL cholesterol and increasing good HDL levels. Besides chillies and garlic, numerous other herbs have healing properties.
The Thai diet, therefore, combines the goodness of seafood and beneficial herbs in grain-based meals. I hope the recipes, information, and ideas contained in this book not only enable you to make delicious Thai seafood dishes, but inspire you to incorporate more seafood into your daily diet.
Copyright © 2000 by Kasma Unchit