AsiaLIFE

Though prahok is an ingredient in many Cambodian dishes, the intense odour has earned a stigma that tends to frighten off foreigners. Mai Lynn Miller Nguyen dares to take a taste.

Over the Pchum Ben Festival, I was invited to spend the day with my landlord and his family at their homeland just outside of Phnom Penh. After passing the morning in a nearby temple, we returned to the house to find the grandmother laying lunch out on the table.

“You eat Cambodian food?” asked one of the cousins, with a glint of challenge in his eye.

I determined to prove that I could handle anything served. The chicken curry was easy. I put the sour soup down like a champ. The whole party watched me as I dug my spoon into a prahok dish. This was the real test.

To the delight of the Cambodian crowd, I passed. My “Mmm, this is good,” coupled with another dip into the bowl, raised me to a new level of respect. And I wasn’t faking my enjoyment. I like prahok.

It was a surprise for me as well, given how unappetising I had imagined prahok would be. Prahok was on the top of my 'not to do list' after I read the description of it as a “stinky Cambodian cheese made from rotted fish” in my guidebook.

After being preserved in salt for months, even years, the fermented fish in its raw form can develop a bracing aroma. The batches of prahok paste sold in the open markets are a shock to the unaccustomed nose.

“Asking foreigners to try prahok is like asking them to try bugs,” says Hun LiHeng, the instructor at Cambodia Cooking Class.

Hun, who often appears on cooking shows as a chef, teaches the finesse of Cambodian cuisine. Though prahok isn’t on the syllabus, Hun adds a pinch to the fish amok. He sometimes convinces a few adventurers to taste it, but there are usually a few refusals after a sniff.

Prahok is a leading ingredient in most Cambodian dishes. "We use prahok for most cooking," says Hun. "Without prahok it wouldn't work."

Conserving fish to make prahok is a very old practice, perhaps dating back to Angkorean time. Today, it’s common to buy prahok from the markets in urban areas. In the countryside, families often preserve it themselves. River fish is considered the best for prahok, though in Hun's village, they use fish from the rice paddies.

“I learned to make prahok from my father,” says Hun. “Maybe my future daughter or son will also learn by watching me. The way of preparing prahok depends on where you’re from; your family passes it down from generation to generation.”

Thanks to Luu Meng, the Cambodian chef credited with invigorating and publicising the national cuisine, I get a chance to see prahok production at its source. He drives me out to visit a small prahok factory in the area known as Kilometre Nine, near the junction of the Tonle Sap and Mekong rivers.

“This is the right time for us to be talking about prahok,” Meng tells me. “In two weeks, the fish will start being collected. Every year after rainy season ends, the water goes down and the fish come up. This is the best month to collect the fish and preserve them for the whole year.”

According to the Ban family who owns the factory, December and January bring in about five trucks of fish each day. The heads are chopped off, the fish are cleaned, crushed, and then layered in salt.

We look on as the supervisor, Keurn, climbs down a precarious ladder into a two-metre deep cement vat. Perched on a bamboo slat, he pokes a stick into the murky water. As he raises some sunken tarpaulin, Keurn reveals the silvery bodies of fish. After a year of soaking in salt, these have now become ripe prahok to be distributed throughout the country.

“If I mention prahok to someone, they go away,” says Meng. “So I say, this is preserved fish. Prahok, in fact, is not really alone. In France, you have fish with salt. In China, you have salt fish.”

Meng takes a jar back to his restaurant, Malis, where I get a chance to try how he uses it. His prahok ktis (US$7.50) mixes pork and coconut milk with the preserved fish, and is served with fresh vegetables for dipping. Sophisticated in taste, every bite draws out a different savour.

Committed to creating living Cambodian cuisine, Luu has adapted the classic recipe to suit modern tastes, generating a smoother, more flavourful blend. It’s part of his mission to make Cambodian food more accessible to international palettes.

On overseas trips, Meng always takes along some prahok to serve on cookery shows and at gala dinners, joking that packing a jar is even more important than his chef’s jacket. He recently took three kilos with him to Italy.

“I feel it is my responsibility to explain about prahok, introduce it to as many people as I can,” he says. “I have proved to a lot of friends that they can love it. It’s about how I choose the prahok, how we prepare the prahok, and how we present the prahok.”

Over at Romdeng Restaurant, I sample a few more preparations of prahok. Part of a skills-training programme for children run by Mith Samlanh NGO, Romdeng has 15 cooking students mastering Cambodian cuisine.

Chef Hak Sokheaun is one of the teachers. Along with coordinators Gustav Auer and Sao Sokuntley, Hak gives me an overview of the diverse ways of cooking prahok-based dishes.

We retreat to the bustling kitchen, where Hak whips up the sampler of steamed prahok, prahok kroeung, and prahok ktis, on the menu for US$5.50. I watch him stir fry the prahok with garlic, chilli, and coconut cream.

“Our prahok dishes are better than many other places because of the ingredients we use,” says Hak. “We use high quality prahok, palm sugar instead of white sugar, and we don’t use any MSG.”

Once completed, the concoctions are accentuated with garnishes of green onion and pepper. Presentation is important, Hak advises. I begin my taste test. The more potent, undisguised steamed prahok took a few tastes to grow on my non-Cambodian taste buds. The prahok kroeung wins me over with its tang of lemongrass. It really is quite delicious.

Cambodia Cooking Class at Frizz Restaurant, 67 Street 240, Tel: 012 524 801.

Malis Restaurant, 136 Norodom Blvd., Tel: 023 221 022, Open daily from 6am to 11pm.

Romdeng Restaurant, 74 Street 174, Tel: 092 219 565, Open Tuesdays to Sundays from 11am to 9pm.



Chef Luu Meng’s Pro-Hok Ktis Recipe

Ingredients:
5g Cooking oil
17g Pro-hok fish meat
40g Pork belly (Minced)
14g Green tomato
11g Carrot
10g White cabbage
15g Green Mango
5.60g Baby aubergine
7.5g Cowpea beans
7g Malis Kroeung
2.50g Sugar palm
26g Grated coconut

Instructions:
Prepare the prahok fish fillet to remove all the bones. Mince well.
Clean the pork belly and mince into small pieces.
Pre-clean and cut all the vegetables to your preferred size. Put to one side and chill to make crisp.
Take the grated coconut out and put to one side.
Heat the oil in the frying pan. Once the oil is at a high heat add the minced pork and kroeung curry paste.
Stir for about two minutes until a juice has developed.
Add the minced prahok and garlic. Stir fry for 30 seconds.
Add the dissolved coconut cream. Bring to a boil then reduce the heat and stir slowly for about 10 to 15 minutes until all the meat, curry, and coconut cream is well done.
Season with salt and sugar to taste.
Serve with the vegetables or steamed rice, as you prefer.