Roti
As anyone who has spent more than twelve hours in my presence knows, I can occasionally get very excited about food. Sometimes to a degree that certain people might describe as odd. Naturally, being in Bangkok has produced in me an incessant hunger and a curiosity that is likely to result in an elderly Thai woman adding me to her menu. In four weeks this fanaticism has not waned in the slightest, but I do seem to have found an object for my obsession. My new found amor de gourmet is Roti, and everything associated with Roti--including the cart it comes off of and the guy who makes his living behind that cart. (I refer to him as male because I have no Roti woman in the vicinity of where I live, which is probably a good thing, since I would likely attempt to start a torrid affair with her.)
Roti is not actually a Thai creation or even a Thai word, as it is of Middle eastern origin and was invented by Muslims centuries ago, though Roti in predominantly Muslim countries today is apparently very different from the Thai variety I've become enamored of. The word Roti (which is pronounced "Loti" in Thai) refers to any form of fried flatbread. It's original form, as my research indicates anyway, is something akin to the middle eastern version of the quesadilla. The Thai version has evolved into something akin to a cross between an empenada, a spring roll, and a churro.
Since it is both the process and the end product with which I am obsessed, I will begin with the process.
The Roti man's cart, besides being laden with Roti-making paraphernalia, consists primarily of two major things: a stainless steel top that serves as a prep-counter, and a slightly concave, round griddle that sits flush with the steel counter-top. This griddle sits atop a recessed burner hooked up to a propane tank on the cart. (Pretty much everything here is cooked over propane.) Most carts also include some form of battery powered lighting for night operation, a large umbrella for when it rains, and several "built in" cans, containers, or racks for things like oil, butter, bananas, condensed milk, and dough.
Roti starts with a small fistfull of dough which is flattened to the desired diameter either just by pressing with the hand or by employing centrifugal force much the way a pizza spinner does. If it is banana filled Roti, the mixture of a thinly sliced banana and a whole egg gets mashed together in a vessel of some kind (one vendor uses a Lion King coffee mug) before the dough gets stretched out. Since it's my favorite, let's say it's banana filled Roti, which requires the dough to be stretched a lot, till it is paper thin. This very thin dough goes down onto the griddle which has about three or four tablespoons of hot oil already smoking hot. Immediately, the banana-egg mixture goes down in the middle of the already bubbling dough. A second after that, the Roti man begins folding in the edges over the mixture, to form a square little package. Thirty seconds later and the whole thing gets flipped, at which point one can already smell how amazing this is going to taste. Just to make your stomach rumble a little more, this is when the Roti man grabs a spoonful of butter and puts it right on top of the Roti. Then he flips it again, butter and all. After flipping it one or two more times be sure the banana and egg cooked through (the whole process takes less than three minutes) he drains it, usually by impaling it onto a piece of steel that looks like a small hangman's truss at the edge of the griddle. After a moment draining it goes onto a piece of heavy paper, gets drizzled extensively with condensed milk and then sprinkled with a heavy dose of granulated sugar. It's cut into squares and handed to you on a small styrofoam plate before it has even stopped sizzling. Then you wait several agonizing moments for it to cool to the point where you can safely put it in your mouth. Often this step is skipped, an unfortunate and unpleasant, albeit necessary evil.
But banana is not where this street food starts and stops. You can get Roti plain, just fried dough with condensed milk and sugar. You can get banana Roti with chocolate. You can get just Roti and egg. Roti with prawns. Roti with Jam. Roti with cashew nuts. Roti with onions and peppers. I think in some places one can even get Roti with ham and cheese. On top of that, the Roti man is perfectly happy to have you come back to his cart, two, maybe three times in a single night. It's been done.
Roti is not actually a Thai creation or even a Thai word, as it is of Middle eastern origin and was invented by Muslims centuries ago, though Roti in predominantly Muslim countries today is apparently very different from the Thai variety I've become enamored of. The word Roti (which is pronounced "Loti" in Thai) refers to any form of fried flatbread. It's original form, as my research indicates anyway, is something akin to the middle eastern version of the quesadilla. The Thai version has evolved into something akin to a cross between an empenada, a spring roll, and a churro.
Since it is both the process and the end product with which I am obsessed, I will begin with the process.
The Roti man's cart, besides being laden with Roti-making paraphernalia, consists primarily of two major things: a stainless steel top that serves as a prep-counter, and a slightly concave, round griddle that sits flush with the steel counter-top. This griddle sits atop a recessed burner hooked up to a propane tank on the cart. (Pretty much everything here is cooked over propane.) Most carts also include some form of battery powered lighting for night operation, a large umbrella for when it rains, and several "built in" cans, containers, or racks for things like oil, butter, bananas, condensed milk, and dough.
Roti starts with a small fistfull of dough which is flattened to the desired diameter either just by pressing with the hand or by employing centrifugal force much the way a pizza spinner does. If it is banana filled Roti, the mixture of a thinly sliced banana and a whole egg gets mashed together in a vessel of some kind (one vendor uses a Lion King coffee mug) before the dough gets stretched out. Since it's my favorite, let's say it's banana filled Roti, which requires the dough to be stretched a lot, till it is paper thin. This very thin dough goes down onto the griddle which has about three or four tablespoons of hot oil already smoking hot. Immediately, the banana-egg mixture goes down in the middle of the already bubbling dough. A second after that, the Roti man begins folding in the edges over the mixture, to form a square little package. Thirty seconds later and the whole thing gets flipped, at which point one can already smell how amazing this is going to taste. Just to make your stomach rumble a little more, this is when the Roti man grabs a spoonful of butter and puts it right on top of the Roti. Then he flips it again, butter and all. After flipping it one or two more times be sure the banana and egg cooked through (the whole process takes less than three minutes) he drains it, usually by impaling it onto a piece of steel that looks like a small hangman's truss at the edge of the griddle. After a moment draining it goes onto a piece of heavy paper, gets drizzled extensively with condensed milk and then sprinkled with a heavy dose of granulated sugar. It's cut into squares and handed to you on a small styrofoam plate before it has even stopped sizzling. Then you wait several agonizing moments for it to cool to the point where you can safely put it in your mouth. Often this step is skipped, an unfortunate and unpleasant, albeit necessary evil.
But banana is not where this street food starts and stops. You can get Roti plain, just fried dough with condensed milk and sugar. You can get banana Roti with chocolate. You can get just Roti and egg. Roti with prawns. Roti with Jam. Roti with cashew nuts. Roti with onions and peppers. I think in some places one can even get Roti with ham and cheese. On top of that, the Roti man is perfectly happy to have you come back to his cart, two, maybe three times in a single night. It's been done.
posted by Ryan at 12:45 AM
1 Comments:
"As anyone who has spent more than twelve hours in my presence knows, I can occasionally get very excited about food. Sometimes to a degree that certain people might describe as odd. Naturally, being in Bangkok has produced in me an incessant hunger and a curiosity that is likely to result in an elderly Thai woman adding me to her menu."
Not so much odd, but potentially disturbing. Especially with that comment about the old Thai woman... still not quite sure I understood that properly.
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