Corinne Trang

Kwayteo, a rice noodle soup complete with pork, preserved cabbage, and more…

My comfort food may be different from yours, but the instant warm and fuzzy feeling we get when we eat what comforts us, must be mutual. It’s an all around good feeling that lingers at least until the last bite and perhaps a little beyond. My comfort food often takes me back to my childhood memories…

I’ve had a recurring dream since I was a little girl of my Chinese grandmother in Cambodia. It goes something like this…I’m about two years old, dressed in a lacy white top with black pants, my soft black hair in pig tails bouncing as I sway my head back and forth. Smiling and cute as a button with dimples in my cheeks, I kneel in front of a small chair, awaiting my grandmother. Huong is her name, and she appears to be walking from the kitchen toward me. In her hands, she carries a big bowl of freshly made rice noodles with ground pork and dried shrimp set afloat a steamy crystal clear broth. Fragrant with freshly torn saw leaf, scallions, preserved cabbage, and bean sprouts, and drizzled with garlic oil and a freshly squeezed wedge of lime, it’s called kwayteo, my favorite noodle soup. She sets the bowl on the seat of the chair which is just tall enough for me to reach comfortably while propped up on my knees. Bamboo chopsticks in hand with ceramic Chinese spoon in the other, I proceed to eat my noodles, slurping them while sipping the broth loudly. It’s a good dream.

My parents, older brother, and I left Cambodia when I was just shy of three years old. We had moved there from France when I was barely six months old. I don’t remember a thing about my childhood in Cambodia, yet this dream has haunted me for decades. A few years ago, I finally admitted to my mother that I had been having this dream for years.  When I asked her about it, she mentioned that when we were kids, we were not allowed to talk at the table. The adults talked, and we, the kids, listened. My parents always reminisced about life in Phnom Penh, and it was most likely during these family meals that I started picking up on details from stories told. For the longest time I thought it was all made up, but she reassured me that on many occasions, my grandmother served me food, and that it was very likely that she served kwayteo, which I’ve been having just about every Sunday—come rain or shine, whether it is hot or cold outside—ever since I can remember.

When I asked my mom why that dream was always in black and white, she told me that it was most likely because many of our family photographs of Cambodia were in black and white.

CT’S KWAYTEO
serves 6

2 pounds ground pork
1/2 cup medium dried shrimp, soaked in water for 20 minutes and drained
8 scallions, 4 trimmed and crushed, and 4 trimmed and thinly sliced
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 head garlic, cloves peeled and minced
1 cup preserved Tien Tsin cabbage (optional)
1 cup coarsely chopped culantro or cilantro leaves
4 red Thai chilies, stems and seeds removed, pods thinly sliced
2 cups fresh mung bean or soybean sprouts
1 lime or lemon, sliced into 6 wedges lengthwise
1 pound rice sticks, soaked in water until pliable
Fish sauce

Bring 3 quarts water in a stockpot to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to low. Working in batches, put some pork into a ladle, and breaking the meat up with a spoon, release it into the water. Repeat with the remaining meat, and add the shrimp and crushed scallions. Continue to simmer the stock, partially covered, until reduced by 1 quart, about 3 hours.

In a small sauce pan heat the oil over medium heat and fry the garlic until golden. Remove from heat and transfer to a small heatproof bowl.

Place the sliced scallions, cabbage (if using), cilantro, chilies, lime or lemon wedges, and sprouts, in individual bowls. Place on the table with the garlic oil.

In a large pot of boiling water, cook the noodles until just tender, about 30 seconds. Drain and divide among 6 large Chinese soup bowls. Add broth making sure to add some ground pork and dried shrimp. Instruct your guests to garnish their soups according to taste with some scallions, cabbage, cilantro, chilies, sprouts, and fried garlic, and squeeze a lime or lemon wedge on top. Adjust seasoning with fish sauce if desired.

Note: often times, my father eats the soup dry, meaning the broth is served on the side in a small bowl as opposed to being added to the noodles and its garnishes.