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Congee, the mother of breakfasts.


Congee, the mother of breakfasts 


 It amazes me how a dish from a completely different part of the world can bring back memories of a specific dish from your own childhood. Food is interconnected. It is not just taste and pleasure. It is emotion. Is is memory. It is the one thing that we can all in some way connect on. Unless you hate food...

I was visiting my friend Fern in Chang Mai, Thailand. It was 4.30am and Fern's dad decided that this was the best time for us to wake up and catch the sunrise at a buddhist temple on top of a mountain called Doi Suthep. He drove us up the scribbly roads like a maniac, just in time for the sunrise. I could have vomited everywhere but I was distracted by the most vivid of sunsets. As the sun slowly came up, we spent some time in quiet reflection wondering around the monastery. We were disturbed by the sound of our tummies rumbling, plus, Fern's mum was “secretly” eating pulled pork round the side of the temple. We thought it was a good opportunity to get the hell out of there. There was no place for us giddy food lovers in such a formal setting. 
Off we went, back down the scribbly roads, for one particular dish, congee, a dish I had never tried before. Congee is a rice based soup originating from China. It is what some would call the Asian ‘rice porridge’. In many areas of China congee is eaten for breakfast and is considered as food therapy for those who are unwell. 



Ferns family's favourite place to eat congee in Chang Mai is a little breakfast cafe called Ton Payom Congee. Before getting there, we stopped off to pick up the fried yeasted dough, Pa Tong Go, which is similar to Spanish Churros. This too has a Chinese origin and in China they call this Youtiao. I wondered why we needed to stop off and buy it. It was only when we got to our congee destination did I find that Pa Tong Go is to dip into the congee. Ferns parents also ate salted duck egg with the congee, which sounds gross but was surprisingly tasty. 



Ton Payom Congee only sold congee and I would think that if a cafe specialises in only one dish then it must be fantastic. I could taste it before it even arrived at our table, and then… boom! It was so delicious that I now call congee the ‘mother of breakfasts’. The flavours of the seasoned broth immediately took me back to my own childhood, when my Mum would make the classic jewish chicken soup. Light and smooth, not just on the tongue but once inside your body. The prolonged cooking in water and sometimes in seasoned meat/fish/egg broth is what makes this dish so easily digestible. Even on a hot day in Chang Mai, this warm dish was the ultimate comfort meal. 

Finally, I was stuffed. 

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