Burma Superstar

My friend L. is the culinary Henry Higgins to my Eliza Doolittle. Over the years she’s introduced me to new foods, starting in college with salmon and risotto, and trained my palate to appreciate more sophisticated tastes as we’ve grown older and (we hope) more worldly.

Her latest discovery? Burmese food. At dinner one night in May, L. summed it up: “It’s sort of a mix between Indian and Thai food.” Research proves her right: Burma, renamed Myanmar in 1989, is bordered by Bangladesh, India, China, Laos and Thailand.  It’s no surprise that the strongest cultural influences come via the big three: Indian spices like garam masala and curries abound, China lends tofu, soy sauce and stir-frying techniques, and Thailand’s quartet of salty, sweet, sour and spicy flavors dominate in salads and seafood dishes. Some foods feel familiar, as though they were merely scooped out of a pot in their home country and set down on a Burmese plate – deep-fried samusas, mu shu wraps, lemongrass salmon. But when the three influences are blended, then turned on their heads, the true nature of Burmese cuisine shines through.

A few weeks ago, Mr. Food Musings and I drove out to the Richmond’s Burma Superstar. There was a line out the door, so after leaving a name and cell phone number we trotted off to The Dog’s Bollocks for a pint while we waited.

An hour later we were back. We ordered a half pitcher of Burma Cooler, beer mixed with fresh lemon and ginger, then sat back to plot our journey through Myanmar, one taste bud at a time. I couldn’t help but marvel at the interior – walls crowded with traditional artwork (sequined tapestries, carved Buddhas, bronzed statues) and large-leaved plants that draped the room in jungley flora.

We skipped the appetizers (mainly rehashed Indian, Chinese and Thai classics) and went straight to the unique salads, which are art on a plate. Made up of dozens of colorful ingredients, each is thoughtfully explained and then mixed tableside by a waiter for added flair. The tealeaf was our choice, with dark gray-green tealeaves imported from Myanmar, shredded Romaine, tomatoes, fried garlic chips, dried shrimp, sesame seeds, jalapenos, and peanuts. The sweet lettuce, tomatoes and the spicy pepper matched the tea’s assertive flavor – earthy and pleasantly bitter. I found myself compulsively scooping up bite after bite, the click-click of my chopsticks beating out a rhythm on the plate.

Though many Myanmar residents are Buddhists and therefore vegetarian, pork and chicken are still popular dishes. The pork curry with potato we tried was nearly identical to mild yellow curries and not worth dawdling over, but the nan pia dok was sublime. The Buddhists can have Nirvana – I’ll take a never-ending bowl of flat noodles bathed in curried coconut sauce with chunks of chicken and cabbage instead. (I kept hoping Mr. FM wouldn't like it so I could have it all to myself. But I was nice -- I shared. Knowing I could hop on the bus any day of the week and get me some for lunch made it easier.) Spicy red peppers – Schezuan, by the look of them – sat on the side of the plate. They might have taunted bolder diners, but not me.

With a coastline that’s 1,740 miles long, the Burmese diet contains a fair bit of seafood. So we tried shrimp kebat, a stir-fry with onions, tomatoes, chilies and fresh mint. The tomatoes were quartered and peeled, and they pooled their juices to make a sweet-and-sour sauce. I used the jasmine rice to sop it up.

I was about to order dessert -- a ginger chocolate cake, I think -- when the waitress walked by and popped the happy chocolate balloon floating over my head: “We sold out of that.” In the end, we passed; the others seemed inauthentic, or at least not unique (think deep-fried bananas).

We didn’t have enough bellies between us to try all the Burmese dishes on the menu that intrigued us. Next time I’d go for the rainbow salad, a medley of 22 ingredients in a tamarind dressing; vegetable curry with tomatoes, squash, eggplant and lentils; and the see jyet kaukswer noodles with pork or duck, fried garlic and scallions. And when L. comes to town, I’ll take her for a bowl of nan pia dok. It’s the least I can do.

Burma Superstar, San Francisco, 309 Clement Street, 415.387.2147

Comments

[Nerissa]

Now you have me in a tizzy wondering if there are any Burmese restaurant in the Greater Vancouver area... Just a week to go and I'm there. I don't know which restaurant to go to first and how not to offend my mother in the process LOL. She's such a "all the family around the dinner table every night" kinda chick. *sigh*

[Robyn]

Hi Catherine -- yum yum! Unfortunately it's hard to find good authentic Burmese food in Burma -- most of what's served is Thai and Indian.
Yep, nearly 90% of Myanmar's population is Buddhist. But not all Buddhists are strict vegetarians (Thais love pork!). On the other hand you won't find much beef there (offensive to Hindus), or pork either (because the nats -- Burmese spirits -- disapprove). Chicken and fish is pretty common.
Maybe it's time for you to dive into Asian cooking, Burmese cookbook in hand!

[Catherine]

Nerissa -- good luck! Why not make it an annual restaurant outing? Our family always plans a nice meal out once during the holidays to give everyone a break from cooking and gather around a different table.

Robyn -- thank you for the extra details. I should have emailed you beforehand, knowing you'd have more info. Are there any Burmese cookbooks out there?

[Robyn]

Burmese cookbooks? Errr, ummmm ... should have googled that before I suggested it, I guess.

[Beth]

I've already told my husband about this place and we're putting it on our To-Do list for next year's vacation in SF. We're going in June, did I tell you?

I already feel certain that San Diego doesn't have a Burmese restaurant. But I could be wrong...

[Catherine]

Robyn -- no worries :)

Beth -- oh good! That list must already be a MILE long! Let's squeeze in a glass of wine of dessert if you can.