This right here is one of those easily overlooked little cooking secrets. Ever wonder why your homemade laab/lahb/larb resembles a mere sour pork pile instead of the fresh, profound ummph of a salad so compelling when it comes from Thai restaurants?
Sticky rice. Is there anything it can’t do? In this case, it works as a thickener akin to cornstarch, plus adds a rounded, nutty depth, coloquially known as the “mmmm… what’s in this??” factor.
Do not attempt with jasmine rice. Do not attempt with sushi rice. Do not even contemplate attempting with Uncle Ben – sooner or later, the two of us are gonna have a showdown. Don’t worry, I’ll sell tickets.
There’s magic in the grain of the sticky rice strain. Here’s hoping that nausea-inducing mnemonic is catchy enough that it’ll never leave your head, because you gotta try sprinkling a smidgen of this into your larb. It manages to melt its way into the texture seamlessly – although I’ve had varieties in Bangkok that were only describable as “gritty,” so go easy on the mortar-and-pestling if that’s what you’re after.
Easy, easy, easy, and totally adds even further Badass points to your spicy meat salad, nontraditional though it may be.
Khao Kua
makes: as much as you want. It’s so fast that you may as well make it fresh each time you need it, although I’ve read that it keeps well.
time: five, maybe ten minutes
sticky rice – also known as sweet Thai rice
1. Toast sticky rice in medium-hot skillet, constantly tossing, until beautifully browned all over. Some seriously enticing scents should reach your nose during this process, but if it starts smelling bitter, you’ve burned it and may want to start over.
2. Take the rice off the heat and let it cool a bit (careful not to burn it!!). Pour into your mortar and pestle set-up – or coffee grinder – and grind to a fine powder. Store and use as needed.
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