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How to Peel and Slice a Mango

By on March 15, 2009 in She Deglutenizes, She Rants and Muses, She Thais, She Uncooks, She Veges


When an American sees me peel something with a knife — be it a piece of fruit or a potato — he or she invariably makes a comment about the way I hold the knife. Apparently, Americans generally hold their knife with the blade facing the body and, with the thumb guiding the knife, also work their way toward the body as they go. (The only exception to this is when they use a vegetable peeler in which case the peeling is done in quick strokes away from the body.) This is my observation. If you’re an American and you don’t peel this way, I’d say you’re definitely in the minority.

Thais, and perhaps other Asians, hold a knife with the blade facing away from the body and also peel away from the body, guiding the knife with the index finger. I can’t explain this cultural disparity. I am not presenting one way as better than the other either. I’m just reporting it.

That’s how we peel a mango — a ripe one, that is. (We have 2-3 different ways of peeling and slicing a green mango, but that’s irrelevant here.) Peeling a mango with a knife is as common to us as flipping a pancake or a burger patty is to most Americans. It’s done in a simple, straightforward, gadget-free fashion. It’s so instinctive that we don’t even think about it. When I told one of my cousins that I was going to blog about how to peel a mango, she wondered out loud whether I had completely run out of blogging ideas.

During my mother’s last visit to the US, we watched a cooking show together. You should have seen her reaction when the chef demonstrated three ways to cut a mango. The first was done by cutting the fruit — skin and all — into two halves, flipping each half over so the mango half rests on the skin side, scoring the flesh with a knife, and scooping out the scored flesh with a spoon. The second method was done with what the chef thought was the greatest kitchen tool ever — OXO mango splitter. The last method was done by slicing a piece off the base of the mango, standing it on the base, and slicing off the skin (along with half of the edible flesh in the process, unfortunately) the way one would a butternut squash.

My mother looked at the TV screen then at me. Not just her face, but her whole being, turned into a big question mark. No trace of self-righteous incredulity was found on her face; just sheer puzzlement. All that was followed by a monosyllabic utterance that captured it all, “Why?”

You see, I am a self-proclaimed non-dexterous dunce. So I’m the last person to tell you how you should peel a mango. This is just a post on how the Thai people peel a ripe mango, especially when it’s prepared for our traditional dish — mango with coconut sticky rice.

How to Tackle a Ripe Mango the Thai Way

1. Start off by getting a good semi-ripe mango from the store. You shouldn’t buy a mango that is perfectly ripe, but one that is a day or two before it reaches that stage. Perfectly ripe mangoes are very fragile and can easily get bruised in transit. It’s better to let your mango ripen on your kitchen counter than in a huge pile of mangoes at the store where it gets fondled by other shoppers.

2. Wash the mango thoroughly. The dirt and pesticide residue on the skin can be transferred to the exposed flesh through contact with your hands.

3. With a very sharp knife (or a serrated knife which works very well), make a shallow under-the-skin slice at the top of the mango. With your thumb pushing the blade (away from your body) and your index finger navigating the path, slowly peel a strip of skin off the mango along the curvature of the fruit. Start off with a thin strip as the wider the strip, the more likely you are to slice off too much flesh along with the skin.


4. Once the entire mango is peeled, position your knife parallel with the wide surface of the pit. (A mango is built like a fish with its flesh analogous to the fish meat and the pit analogous to the spine bone. So “fillet” a mango the way you would a fish.) Make a cut as close to the pit as possible. In see-sawing motion, work your knife blade along the length of the pit all the way to the end tip of the mango.

5. Cut the mango crosswise into thick slices. Serve immediately.

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Goat Cheese-Thyme Egg Mini Muffins, Khanom Krok Style

By on February 4, 2009 in She Bakes, She Deglutenizes, She Grills, She Rants and Muses, She Veges

egg muffins with goat cheese and thyme
The significance of these mini egg “muffins” or mini egg cups lies in the fact that these are the very first food from which I have ever made profits. First, some background information …

When I was in elementary school, my cousins and I often played the so-called “Country Game.” It was not a game wherein somebody wins and somebody loses as much as it was a way for us kids to pass boring weekend afternoons. What we did was form a mock country with a government and a group of private citizens.

Our currency was the seashells we had gathered from past family trips to the beach. Two of my cousins were appointed the prime minister and the deputy prime minister who promulgated and enforced the law. (They didn’t do anything to earn the executive power; they just happened to be in 6th grade when most of us were in 2nd or 3rd grades.) We even paid taxes to the 2-person government who also made sure tax evaders go to jail (dark storage room behind the garage). It was the most real fake country you’ve ever heard of.


Here’s the fun part. In order to earn a living, each private citizen would search for junk around the house, including lawn and garden trimmings, to turn into marketable commodities: fresh produce, all sorts of knick-knacks, and, of course, fake edibles. It’s amazing how creative you get when garage junk is the only thing available to you. I had so much fun recycling stuff that I didn’t mind the tyrannical government or a group of citizens who looted the garage and sold for exorbitant profits things which should have been available for all at no costs.

In the beginning, we would limit ourselves to things which had clearly been marked as tossers. I had my semi-fake food stand which I co-owned with an older cousin who knew how to operate an electric portable stove. The task involved turning leftover rice porridge into little sweet rice cakes resembling a well-known traditional Thai coconut-rice cakes, khanom khrok (added 11-08-20: my recipe for the classic version is in my Bangkok cookbook), using an old, chipped terracotta khanom khrok pan which I’d found in the garage. Though these cakes were made out of edible ingredients, they weren’t exactly made for the purpose of pleasurable consumption (our dog, who would eat anything, gave them a sniff and walked away); they were just for play.


As more and more seashells entered the economy (our government was very good at increasing the number of seashells in circulation without us knowing where they came from), our little mock kingdom became more and more interesting. We started incorporating non-junk items into the market to increase the attractiveness of the products.

A cousin started reselling treats from her mother’s pantry which prompted me to adopt a similar strategy. I started smuggling fresh eggs from the kitchen in order to come up with more attractive egg khanom khrok which was much more delicious than the baked rice goo we’d served. The egg cups were very good even though they were made out of nothing but plain beaten eggs with fish sauce and cracked white pepper added to them and chopped green onions on top of them. They were a hit weekend after weekend.

Looking back, I can see now how our made-believe independent state represented a microcosm of the real system. In terms of business, we got all sorts of trickery, gimmicks, abuse of power, abuse of the law, “under-the-table” transactions, generation of false rumors or half-truths to undermine the market’s confidence in a competitor’s product, etc. There might have been some money laundering as well, though I wasn’t sure.

In terms of politics, we even had a small group of separatists who got sick of the ever-changing constitution and the over taxing of the working class and threatened to form their own country independent of our oppressive government.

When things got uglier, there were even talks about bringing the matters to the UN Council, i.e., our grandfather, who, mind you, had no clue all this was going on.
egg muffins with goat cheese and thymeYet, in the midst of coup rumors and unstable economy, my egg cup business was thriving. As it turned out, regardless of their political leaning, all citizens loved little egg cups with crusty bottoms and custardy interior.

I was happy collecting seashells until a competitor, under the guise of a well-meaning customer, suggested I replace the green onions with one particular “herb” from our greenhouse in order to create a different flavor variation. Naïve, I agreed that was a good idea and proceeded accordingly.

egg muffins recipe
Turned out, the leafy “herb” happened to be a very rare and expensive plant in the lily family which the UN Council had planted and groomed for an upcoming annual botanical competition—a much, much anticipated event. Long story short, when the news reached the UN, the UN was beyond furious.

Fortunately, I was at school when it was discovered that the plant had been uprooted and chopped up. So by the time I had to give my account to the UN, the (justified) fury had dissipated somewhat. Yet, when all of us had to appear before the Tribunal, it took every trick in the book to save our little behinds. No capital punishment was administered, but our little country suddenly and irrevocably lost its sovereignty. It had disappeared from the map since then.

It was fun while it lasted.

Goat Cheese-Thyme Egg Mini Muffins in Honor of Childhood Mischief
Makes 24 mini egg muffins using the Ebelskiver pan)
Printable Version

egg muffins with goat cheese and thyme
One dozen large eggs
4 ounces goat cheese, crumbled
1 teaspoon of Hungarian sweet paprika
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme or 2 teaspoon fresh thyme
1 green onion, finely chopped
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
A few cracks of black pepper

  • Set the Ebelskiver pan on the stovetop over medium low heat. Spray the cups to keep the egg mixture from sticking to the pan.
  • In a bowl, mix together the goat cheese, paprika, and thyme; set aside.
  • Beat the eggs together with the salt and pepper. Fill each cup half full.
  • Spoon 2 teaspoonfuls of the cheese mixture into the egg-filled cups.
  • Fill the cups almost to the brim with more egg mixture.
  • Cover with a pot lid and continue to cook for another 2-3 minutes.
  • Remove the egg muffins from the cups and repeat the process until both the egg and cheese mixtures are gone.

Variations: Consider adding one of the following add-ins to the egg mixture: chopped ham, pre-crisped bacon or pancetta bits, finely chopped roasted red pepper, finely chopped black olives, finely chopped marinated artichoke hearts, chopped sun-dried tomatoes and fresh basil, prepared pesto.

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How to Cut and Prepare Papaya

By on January 12, 2009 in She Deglutenizes, She Thais, She Uncooks, She Veges


Papaya is one of those fruits that are best eaten when they are very, very ripe. (The only exception, of course, is when you intentionally use papayas when they’re green as the Thai people do when they make the well-known Thai green papaya salad, som tam (ส้มตำ).

I always buy papayas when they’re still a little bit on the green side — the stage in which most papayas are sold in most stores anyway. This allows me to minimize the bruises on the fruit while bringing it home (papayas bruise extremely easily; you even so much as raise your voice with it and it’s bruised all over; that’s why you often see them wrapped in paper or styrofoam nets at the market). Then I leave it on the kitchen counter and let it ripen, undisturbed. This takes about 4-5 days from the purchase date based on the degree of ripeness most of the papayas I’ve purchased usually are. So, buy a papaya 4-5 days before you plan to eat them.

A perfectly ripe papaya takes on a dark shade of orange, becomes wrinkly, appears bruised externally even though it may not be, and sports ugly spots which may look moldy. Sometimes, though, there are actual moldy spots on the skin. This is no big deal, the mold is only skin-deep and requires nothing but peeling, which is what you’re supposed to do anyway. Basically, if your papaya still looks good, it’s probably not ripe enough. It needs to look quite hideous.

I usually buy my papaya from Asian or Latino grocery stores as those are places where you’re more likely to get the kind of papaya that, in my opinion, is the most delicious. The small Hawaiian papayas that are found in mainstream grocery stores aren’t my cup of tea, to say the least. The longer, larger, meatier papayas are the tastiest to me.

The fact that papayas are best eaten when fully ripe presents a bit of a problem because the softer the fruit, the more fragile it is and the more likely it’s going to fall apart on you in the process of preparing it. But fret not as this is easier than you think.

Begin by quartering the papaya: halve it crosswise, then halve each half lengthwise. Depending how big the papaya is, you can cut each quarter lengthwise into 3 or 4 spears. Place on spear, skin side down, on the palm of your non-dominant hand. Hold the sharpest knife in your kitchen (a serrated knife works very well too) in your other hand, positioning the blade horizontally and with the blade pointing away from you, slice off the membrane side, about 2 millimeters deep, in one swift motion (a see-saw motion is easier, if using a serrated knife). The key is to create beautiful, clean, and crisp edges.

Flip the papaya over  and slice off the skin in the same way. If each spear is narrow enough, you may be able to get the skin completely off in one go. But if some of the skin is still left, it’s just a matter of picking up the spare, to use bowling jargon.At this point, your sweet-as-honey, perfectly-ripe papaya flesh is ready to serve.

You can serve it in spears or cut each spear crosswise to create bite-sized pieces. If you cut each spear in half lengthwise and then crosswise, you get papaya dice or cubes. The fruit is best served and eaten unadorned, but the Thais like to squeeze a wedge of lime over it. Lime juice brings out the sweetness of the ripe papaya even more.

If desired, you can even use fresh papaya to teach your kids basic geometry as well. Like I said, this fruit is very versatile.

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