Thai yellow curry

Thai yellow curry , like the others in the colour-led canon of Thai curries, leaves the choice of protein up to you: chicken, duck, beef, tofu or seafood. It has gained huge popularity in many parts of the world where the Thai diaspora has brought Thai cooking to new audiences. But, unlike the better known red or green curries, it is a rather more elusive beast.

The third wheel

In many parts of the world and in the tourist spots of Thailand itself, the popularity of Thai yellow curry is usually attributed to its supposed mildness, palatable to many from parts of the world where really spicy dishes are not the norm. Like massaman curry, its reputation as "a mild, sweet one" makes it widely exportable. But, think again.

Thai yellow curry is a pluralism when it comes to the level of heat in the dish. In many places in the Western world, it is a fixed feature on the menus of many neighbourhood Thai restaurants, supposedly an easy-going, mild curry likely to please anyone after something delicious but not too spicy. But, this is the result of repeating a successful formula for some Western markets and the word-of-mouth reputation it has gained.

If you scratch the surface, Thai yellow curry turns out to be something that can be very mild or rather spicy, depending on what part of Thailand is making it. And, precisely because it can range from very mild to even more spicy than red or green curries, perhaps that's one of the reasons that in certain Western markets, it has far less of a visibility in either Thai restaurants or in the cook-at-home segment of groceries. For example, while you will find readymade curry pastes for Thai green and red curries produced by supermarket chains in practically every European country, in most European markets you actually have to go to an Asian-specialist grocery store to find a readymade Thai yellow curry paste.

Too many cooks

The origins of Thai yellow curry in Southern Thailand and the influences of Portuguese traders with particular connections to India and later Indian trading colonies in Thailand are frequently repeated when talking of its origins. But, there is almost an elective ignorance. Turmeric, cumin, ginger, cumin and garlic, sure, are all part of the Indian influence, but, on the spice front, ingredients like cayenne are overlooked, not to mention that the Portuguese, just as in India, are responsible for introducing the very spicy chillies we now call "Thai hot chillies" to the region. Then there were also Malaysian influences: this dish was never predestined to be mild. And, indeed, even today if you travel to Southern Thailand, in the region where Muslim Indian traders of the Moghul Empire settled, local yellow curries are a lot spicier than those you're likely to encounter in the big cities or the North, and most certainly compared with those found in the American Midwest or Canada.

Of all of the curries in the "traffic light" that is the canon of best-known Thai curries, yellow curries (it really is closer to amber) have the greatest spectrum of spiciness. The relevance of this—I have long given up making my own Thai yellow curry paste—is that you need to do a little testing with whichever readymade paste you purchase. For example, with the Mae Ploy Yellow Curry Paste that I prefer, stick strictly to the 50g quantity suggested on the packaging and add no extra chillies to the dish if you wish to experience this reputedly "mild" Thai curry. I personally prefer to ramp it up a little (as in this recipe) evoking the spicier yellow curries I encountered in Southern Thailand.

Too many choices

The version I'm cooking is based on what I observed and tasted in little roadside stalls or hole-in-the-wall food shacks. In this recipe, in contrast to what you will find suggested on many Thai curry paste products aimed at foreign make-at-home markets, you do not add your desired protein, whether chicken, beef or tofu, in the early stages of the dish. Rather, you add them barely a few minutes before serving. For a Thai commercial vendor, as is equally visible in India, this makes complete sense: create a huge batch of the base curry, then cook the punter's protein of choice into it in the final stages.

In a domestic context, this makes it ideal for mixed groups of diners, situations where you may be catering for vegetarians and the vehemently carnivorous at the same table. The baseline sauce here is not vegan—the curry paste contains that Thai staple of shrimp paste—yet one can find a Mae Ploy Vegan Yellow Curry Paste in many markets; just check online. This means that you can make it in an initial batch (vegan or not), then divide into smaller saucepans to add the preferred protein in the end stages.

To this end, I advise cutting any raw animal proteins into slightly smaller pieces than with other curries; thin slices of lean beef or somewhat less-than-bitesize pieces of duck or chicken. You want to be sure they cook safely in a few minutes without overcooking the dish. Conversely, though not as commonly cooked with seafood, this is perfectly suited: seafood cooks really quickly and here you need not end up with any prawns turned to bubblegum as you wait for the curry itself to cook, as is the risk with protein-first approaches.

Dodge the stodge

In many places in Thailand, potatoes are often an ingredient of this dish, as with massaman curries. This reflects its historical connection with Portuguese transatlantic trade in Asia. But, while the a lot of this discussion (including mine) centres on the Portuguese introduction of chillies to Asia from South America—primarily because today no one can imagine Asian cooking without chillies—we should more accurately consider the Portuguese as "solanaceae merchants". Chillies, peppers, potatoes and, indeed, the aubergine: all traversed the Atlantic and rounded the Cape of Good Hope in the holds of Portuguese ships long before any other Europeans had a clue.

While it is probably more "authentic", I tend to forego the potatoes, favouring aubergines instead, mainly because I find the combination of both potatoes and rice likely to send me into a carb stupor. However, that's me. If you want the more usual iteration of this dish, replace the aubergines with a handful of baby potatoes and add them slightly earlier in the cooking process.

But, as with other types of Thai curries, there are no hard and fast fixed rules. Work with the veggies you have to hand.

Similarly, one of the aspects that I love about Thai yellow curry is that it has this earthier aspect (galangal, turmeric, cumin etc.) that is closer to Indian cooking balanced with the freshness of the Thai table (lemongrass, lime etc.) Thai basil is not normally one of the ingredients, but I add it because I like it. Up to you...

Thick or thin?

Thai curries are not meant to be overly thick, more akin to a laksa. In fact, in the first known Thai dictionary published in 1873, kaeng, a generic term that refers to most of what we would call "Thai curries" today, was defined as "a watery dish with shrimp paste, onions, shallots, garlic, and chillies". In Thailand, the rice is added to the curry, not the other way round.

Obviously, if you cook your yellow curry longer, it will reduce more, but you're likely to overcook the vegetables, which should remain slightly al dente, and your chosen protein. Fear not, this is where the magic of Thai sticky rice comes in: when you add it to the curry, the released starches in the rice have an almost immediate thickening effect.

And, in Thailand, food is eaten with a spoon and fork not chopsticks, thanks to the royal family's 19th-century initiatives to "modernise" (aka Westernise) Thailand, a lost detail in the script of The King and I, but part of the story of the real-life Dutch woman brought in to tutor the royal children. So, don't worry about this "thin" curry. The rice will do the trick.

Rice thrice

As is obvious from the photos, this is a dish I cook quite often or, more accurately, "customise" often. As one of those curries where the protein only goes in towards the end, I tend to make larger batches of the core yellow curry and freeze it in appropriate portions, later reheating and adding the protein of choice, and indeed, any additional quick-cooking vegetables that I didn't include in the original sauce.

Similarly, I serve it with Thai jasmine rice, Thai sticky rice or sticky Thai black rice. This last one is definitely my favourite, but takes a little more work. Thai sticky black rice, also known as Thai purple rice or even Imperial rice was once reputedly only allowed to be eaten by the Thai royalty and I can certainly see why they would want to keep it to themselves. Like many other rices cooked in the husks, it has a slightly nutty flavour. Unlike them, it cooks down as rather soft, sticky and not particularly "chewy" in the way that other "black" rices are.

I have been told (though never seen) that in some parts of Asia, there are easy-cook versions on the market, but in the UK, you can only buy the raw version of this rice from specialist Asian grocery stores. You can cook it on the stove top, but I prefer to do it in my rice cooker. The main issue is that it needs to soak for at least 12 hours before you cook it, which, if you're like me, you tend to remember after you've left the house for the day you're plan to cook a yellow curry of an evening...

Thus, I tend to cook it in larger batches. It's not great reheated from frozen, but cold, it makes fantastic salads or a stuffing ingredient for poultry.

This version is for 2 to 3 diners, but you can scale it up in a pretty straightforward proportional way.

3 top tips to get this dish right:

• I don't mince the galangal or lemongrass but to cook them as fairly "chunky" pieces. Obviously you need to warn your guests that they're not expected to eat these (unless they wish). You can use paste equivalents of both. But, I find that takes the dish more in a direction that is too similar to either red or green curry and does not accentuate the flavours that make yellow curry unique.

• I'm using Thai green aubergines. Thai white aubergines or the tiny Thai pea aubergines work equally well (though add them later in the cooking). However, whatever you do, don't make the mistake of using Western black aubergines. Better to use another additional vegetable, possibly even the more traditional potatoes I usually avoid. The larger black aubergines, more common in the West, will turn slimy in this dish.

• If you want to have a mild curry and have not tried your Thai yellow curry paste before, I suggest leaving out the Thai red chillies. Some store-bought Thai yellow curry pastes are definitely hotter than others (such as the one I'm using) and, until you intuit how to gauge the particular one you're using, best leave out the chillies if you want a very mild curry.

Shopping list

for the Thai yellow curry

• Approx. 450g lean beef or chicken; chicken cut into small-than-bite-size pieces; beef into thin strips

• Approx. 70g of good quality Thai yellow curry paste

• 3 small-medium red onions (or brown); peeled and cut vertically into sixths

• 1 large red bell pepper; sliced vertically

• 2 hot, Thai red chillies; deseeded and sliced

• 1 can (400g) coconut milk (full fat)

• Approx. 125g baby corn; cut in half OR 125g whole mangetout

• 2 carrots; peeled and cut vertically into thin strips

• 4 or 5 green Thai green aubergines, sliced vertically into quarters

• 2 thumb's lengths of galangal; peeled and cut into thick slices

• 1 large stick of fresh lemongrass; bruised and cut into 4cm pieces

• The juice of 1 fresh lime

• 2 or 3 fresh lime leaves

• 3 or 4 leaves of fresh Thai basil (optional)

• 2 teaspoons of fresh, roughly ground, good quality black pepper

• 1tbspn demerara sugar

• 1 tbspn, Thai fish sauce (or the vegan version)

• Approx. 4tbspns peanut oil (or sunflower oil)

sides and condiments

• Rice — Thai sticky rice, jasmine rice, or Thai black sticky rice

• Thai "prawn" crackers — or the vegan version without shrimp paste

Cooking Method

the Thai yellow curry

1. In a wok or pot with a lid, heat the oil on a medium heat. Add the bruised lemongrass, galangal slices and hot chillies. When the aromas release, add the onions and stir in. Sweat for barely 2mins, then add the red bell pepper. Stir the ingredients and sweat for a further 4 or 5mins

2. Add the juice of half of the fresh lime and allow to sizzle for merely 20secs, then add the yellow curry paste and sizzle for a few minutes, coating all the ingredients. Once the aromas release, but before the paste sticks, add a little of the coconut milk and about 30ml of water to keep it fluid. Cook for about a further 3mins. NB, if your chosen yellow curry "paste" is on the more liquid side, you may not need to add the water

3. Add all the remaining coconut milk. Increase the heat and bring to the boil. Boil for about 3mins, then reduce to a healthy simmer. Add the Thai green aubergine segments and lime leaves. Cover and simmer for approx. 7mins, stirring occasionally

4. Add the sweetcorn and carrot slices and stir in (NB: if opting for mangetout, add these later, a minute or so before the the protein). Add a little additional water if your sauce has cooked down too rapidly; enough to ensure they are largely covered by liquid. Re-cover and simmer for a further 8 to 10mins. Gauge whether the sweetcorn, carrots and aubergines are soft enough for a fork to pass through them whilst remaining a little al dente as your guide. Cook a little longer if not

5. Add your protein of choice and fold into the curry. Add the demerara sugar and Thai basil, if using. Re-cover and simmer for approx. a further 4 to 5mins. There is no solid guide here: you're wanting, whatever your protein, to be cooked without being overcooked, but also safe. For newbies less confident in the kitchen, there may be a couple of surprises here. Poultry, not the beef is the thing about which you need to be most concerned. In most parts of the world, beef can be safely consumed raw (filet américain, anyone?) but dodgy duck and undercooked chicken are a risk. Make sure it's fully cooked without overcooking it. Conversely, while tofu doesn't pose a health risk if undercooked, it can be like chewing old boots if not cooked long enough and, heaven knows, there's nothing worse than a prawn overboiled into chewing gum... The guiding light here is to watch, stir and taste as you go along

6. As soon as your protein is optimally cooked, remove the pot from the heat. Add the fish sauce, black pepper and remainder of the fresh lime juice. Stir gently but thoroughly. Cover and rest for a few minutes

7. Plate and take to table with your rice of choice and any other side dishes

Alternatives

In this recipe, we've pretty much being doing it as we go along. This is one of those "protein-last" recipes. And, the only thing that stops it being vegan is not opting for readily available vegan yellow curry pastes or the fish sauce, which is added right at the end of the cooking process, easily circumvented.

Nonetheless, apparently there is such a thing as vegan Thai "fish sauce". Don't ask me to comment. I usually simply leave it out and add salt (you may have noticed that I didn't include salt in the ingredients because fish sauce is almost like the Thai equivalent) towards the end. I also tend to simply increase the quantity of veggies or use larger mushrooms as a default, though tofu versions can be great.

For pescatarians, you can go low-key or large. I personally prefer to use sliced defrosted Asian-style fish balls found in Asian supermarkets around the world rather than actual white fish (which tends to flake) or prawns if I am going low-key. But, it you want to go large, this is fantastic with large scallops, octopus or langoustine tails.

Pairings

As with most Thai dishes, I usually end up having this curry with sparkling water and a slice of lime or a some other fruity spritz. However, it's great with cold beer such as Leo or Singha.

Since this is generally a fairly mild curry, I have enjoyed it with any number of workaday Sauvignon Blancs or Rieslings. If I ramp up the spiciness, I inevitably default to my go-to "curry wines", those South African Chenin Blancs with a peppery taste. I really can't remember many of them since this is very much an "easy weekday dish" for me.

But, I do feel compelled to say that Nederburg Classic Chenin Blanc stands head and shoulders above the rest on the low-commitment plateau for this curry—and indeed, many other forms of curry. I first came across this natty wine through my friend, the artist Claire de Jong (she of the world's best Capetonian bobotie) when we would kletsen and ping pong cook in her kitchen in Antwerp.

Ever the queen of value-for-quality, she'd found it in the local Carrefour as the hipsters encroached on the area where the 1970s workshop and office (they were never so pretentious as to call it a "loft") she and her husband James had turned into a lovely home in Antwerp's northern inner-docks neighbourhood was located.

Claire and I would cook and chuckle like a pair of baboons at the lovely peppery notes in this white that so perfectly compliments so many dishes with a spiciness. Turns out that since Brexit, it's now a wine you can actually find in the UK whereas before I never came across it. Notice it and order it if you love low-key curry nights. It really is the one, and a very adaptable one too.

A version of Thai yellow curry with beef and mushrooms