Some foods carry a banner. They proudly wave the red, white and blue — hamburgers — or that other red, white and blue, in the form of crepes Suzette or coq au vin. When you think of Germany, hearty wiener schnitzel comes to mind. Pasta belongs to Italy. In Scotland, you’ll find … um …
Well, something deep fried. Let’s ignore haggis.
Pad Thai is the culinary symbol of Thailand, the ambassador of a colorful, diverse array. Around the world you can pop into Thai restaurants for the dish — a livery of clean, gossamer noodles, bright herbs and crunchy peanuts in a spare sauce. It all seems porcelain bright.
Of course, that’s pad Thai cleansed for local audiences.
At Buddha Thai in Middletown, the dish returns to its roots. Noodles, Thai-style traces origins in the Chinese diaspora of centuries past. During and after World War Two the dish reached perfection in street carts where vendors performed the same task, one order at a time, day after day — a quick stir fry of noodles, tofu and spices. Nothing fancy, just a quick and filling lunch or dinner that somehow balanced every element.
So instead of the westernized version, you are presented with a hefty dish. A ruddy sauce drips from long comforting strands. The earthy nip of bean sprouts, the occasional snap of flash fried vegetables, the mellow note of tofu, the featured protein — it feels like earnest street fare.
And yet …
The combination offers a subtle, earthy foundation. This supports tottering strains of husky sweetness — sugars from the palm, perhaps — and restrained saltiness. Fluttering above, a tangy bite lends a brisk savor to each bite.
All of it — even the faint bite of garlic and the calm crumble of peanut — revolves around Buddha Thai’s brick-hued broth, brewed from tamarind paste.
“That’s an ingredient that’s traditional,” explained Buddha Thai owner Charlie McFarling. “Tamarind changes everything — the flavor, the color.”
Tamarind pods, churned into paste and applied with wisdom learned over years in the kitchen, lend a unique tart aspect to pad Thai. The flavor is shy, willing to slip into the shadow of mild tofu or sweet shrimp. Yet it is, at the same time, the star of the dish — quietly intense, supportive yet consuming. It frames the sweet, savory, salty notes while celebrating with its own brisk zing.
It brings everything into balance.
“That’s how Ting grew up with it,” McFarling said, referencing his Thai wife and chef, Ting McFarling.
She prepares the dish as if she were a cart vendor in Bangkok. A single pan — a wok — is flamed by intense heat and then every element is fried to order. The process allows vegetables to retain their crisp, fresh flavors even as they cook.
“It’s really quick and easy,” McFarling observed.
That’s why street fare remains popular, despite the incursions of nouvelle cuisine, global fusion, molecular gastronomy or any other culinary trend that comes along. It is honest, fundamental. But it also speaks to the basic human desire for rich flavors held in balance.
Pad Thai is a nation — friendly and rough, salty and rich, bitter and mellow — in one bowl.
Dave Faries can be reached at 900-2016
