The Gulf of Thailand

The Gulf of Thailand is the shallow, warm arm of the South China Sea that lies against the southern edge of the central plain, receiving the Chao Phraya, the Tha Chin, the Mae Klong and the Bang Pakong rivers. Its shores gave the Thai kitchen much of its fish, its shellfish, its salt and its fermented seasonings, and Thompson's Thai Food treats these as the foundation on which central Thai cooking is built.

The Gulf is shallow, and where the rivers meet it the water is brackish and rich in silt. Such water suits a wide range of fish and shellfish, and the cooking of the central plain draws on it constantly. Mackerel, among them the short-bodied mackerel Rastrelliger brachysoma known as pla thu, is the fish most closely bound to the Gulf table; it is steamed, fried or salted, and is served in the company of nam phrik, the pounded chilli relish eaten with rice and vegetables. Prawns, squid, crabs and mussels come from the same waters, and the coast has long supplied the inland kitchens through salting, drying and fermenting. The seasonings of the Thai kitchen owe a great deal to this coast. Fish sauce, nam pla, is made by layering small fish with salt and leaving them to ferment in the heat until a clear amber liquid is drawn off, and Thompson places it beside salt and palm sugar among the elements that give Thai food its savour. Kapi, the paste of fermented shrimp, is made in the same manner from tiny shrimp pounded with salt and dried in the sun, and it supplies the depth that sits beneath most curry pastes and relishes. These are not luxuries but daily staples, and a cook who judges them poorly spoils the dish before it begins. Salt itself is a product of the Gulf shore. Sea water is led into shallow pans on the flat coastal land and left to the sun and wind, and the salt is raked up in the dry season. The same coast, with the palm and coconut groves of the delta country behind it, supplies the sugar and the coconut milk that balance the salt and the sharpness of the table. The Thai preference for setting salty, sour, sweet and hot against one another in a single meal has its practical roots in the abundance of these coastal products. The Gulf also shaped the way rice is eaten. In the central region the meal is built around rice, with a number of dishes set out to be eaten together with it, and the fish, the relishes and the soups of the coast are the accompaniments that make that arrangement varied. Whole fish are grilled or fried and served with a sauce of chilli, garlic and lime; small salted fish are fried to eat with plain rice; and sour and clear soups are made with the fresh catch. The coast thus gives the central table both its flavour and its structure.

The taste of the Gulf at the Thai table is the taste of salt, fermented fish and shrimp, softened by palm sugar and coconut and sharpened by lime and chilli. A relish of kapi and chilli eaten with fried mackerel and plain rice shows the arrangement in its simplest form, each element answering the others.