Confession: I am kind of afraid of the rooster that roams in our yard. That’s all
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Tuesday was a good day. In the morning a cute little toddler asked me to hold her while her mom had her check up. A refreshing change of pace from the kids who usually cower in fear. Then I had a peanut butter sandwich for lunch followed by a few hours of reading in the hammock while my host family made a trip to the city.
A little while before my host family came back a cousin stopped by to visit. Even though I was home alone she stayed and we chatted until my family came back and dinner preparations began.
The last few days our next door neighbor has been bringing home big plastic bags of fish from the river maybe three or four times a day. My host mom got one of these bags filled with little maybe 2-3 inch long fish, I would say it was 1-2 kg of fish, so not a small little bag. My host mom, cousin and grandma (who managed to make her way over at some point) got to chopping.
I steered clear for a while because I assumed they were making prohok, the fermented fish paste that everyone eats and loves. I eventually went over to poke around and ask questions and was told it was in fact prohot they were making not prohok. At this point I just nodded my head like I had any idea what the difference might be. They proceeded to chop the little fish, whole, into essentially mush. The final product didn’t look too much different from a hairball a fat cat I know and love might leave as a gift on the carpet.
While the fish was being chopped in a mortar and pestle orange leaves, some leaves that smell very citrusy but weren’t lemongrass, garlic, ginger, prohok, chilis, salt, sugar and msg were being pounded into a paste. This was all mixed together to form a very green goo!
At this point one of the little fire pits we have outside had been lit and my host dad was bringing out a wok and huge bottle of oil. Once it became clear that the mixture would be shaped into patties and fried I explained to my mom that I was worried that it was going to be eaten raw, with raw vegetables, like prohok is. Everyone had a good laugh at my expense and they got to frying.
I will say they weren’t too bad! It was a little tough for me to get over the stray scales, not so finely chopped fins, and bones but they tasted a little like salmon patties we might make at home. I don’t know if I would have enjoyed them more or less if I hadn’t watched the process but it was fun to see.
After dinner my little sister and I stood in the front of house and enjoyed the breeze while a storm rolled in. We could hear the monks chanting from far enough away that it was enjoyable. All in all a lovely way to end a good day.
so beautiful!