Thai Fish Cake Noodle Soup

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We got a lot of snow this week. 40cm to be exact. And I love it. Of course, I feel for all the people inconvenienced by this dramatic weather event. But I do love a good blizzard and I love the opportunity to snowshoe, cross country ski, and generally act like an excitable puppy in a snowbank. But sadly, we’re in for rain followed by a swift drop in temperature. I’m sure I’m not alone when I say I despise icy conditions almost as much as I hate cold rain. But there is a silver lining to this yoyoing weather activity. There will be every excuse to huddle over a simmering pot of this Thai Fish Cake Noodle Soup. This baby was made for wet socks and dampened spirits, so let’s dive right in.

There isn’t a fish cake on this planet that I wouldn’t devour. But even with my blanketed love of the fish cake oeuvre, Thai fish cakes (tod mun pla) stand out from the crowd. Perhaps because they are significantly different from the fish cakes I grew up with. For one thing, the fish is pureed with curry paste, which was not something we typically did in Nova Scotia. Now, those of you who know about a certain fish stick recipe, know I’m no stranger to plopping fish into my food processor. But this may be a bold move for some of you, so I thought I should mention it and tell you there is nothing to fear. Your food processor won’t have the lingering scent of fish and your fish cakes will have a very pleasing texture. Pinky promise!

I leaned fairly heavily on the guidance of Hot Thai Kitchen when crafting these fish cakes. Pai mentions that you should use a white fish but a fattier variety than I typically work with. I generally work with haddock, sole, halibut, and of course, cod. But basa and monkfish make for better Thai fish cakes. It had been ages since I’d had basa, so it was nice to be reacquainted. Now, if you would prefer to work with a leaner white fish, that is your prerogative but it will likely result in tougher fishcakes.

Once your fish is blitzed with herbs and curry paste, it’s time to stir in a little cornstarch and an egg yolk. The yolk works as a binder, while the cornstarch gives the fish cakes a springy-ness, which is totally a word, by the way. Then it’s time to fry. Traditionally, Thai fish cakes are deep-fried but I think a shallow fry works just as well. You can, of course, be more authentic than I and deep fry your fishcakes. But in terms of texture and flavor, I just don’t think you’re missing much by bypassing the vat of oil. But as always, your kitchen, your rules.

Once your fishcakes are done, it’s time to tackle the stock. You can fry your fish cakes a few days in advance, by the way. They keep very nicely in the fridge for upwards of three days. Now, sadly I could not get my hands on kaffir lime leaves, and galangal for the stock. These are two ingredients that are hard to substitute for, particularly when you know exactly what you’re missing. But such is life. Instead, I more or less cobbled a stock together with the bits and bobs I could find. I took some inspiration from Tom Yum soup but this soup couldn’t be further from authentic. What this stock is though, is tasty, fairly quick, and very hot. I may or may not have maced myself while simmering it.

The stock starts off with shallots, garlic, and ginger trying to do its best galangal impression. It’s an imperfect substitute but ginger is delicious in its own right, so let’s not worry about it. To the aromatics, we add the umami bomb that is shrimp paste. This is a fishcake soup, after all, we need to make a seafood-heavy stock. To this flavor base, we add water, smashed lemongrass, and six bruised Thai red chilies. I probably didn’t need to add six. I made a very hot stock, which works for my heat-tolerant household. But feel free to bust the chili quantity back to 2 or 3, to suit your household’s palette.

Now, I didn’t want to simmer my stock for long because hangriness is a serious affliction and I wasn’t planning on adding a more established stock to the mix, so I had to double down on the umami. And I achieved this by adding six dried shiitakes and a bottle of clam juice. Seriously, dried shiitakes are a great pantry item to have on hand. They make every stock and soup that much better. And once you simmer them in the soup, you can slice them up and add them as a garnish. A total twofer.

Once the stock is where we want it, simply cook some rice noodles and build your bowl of Thai Fish Cake Noodle Soup. Now, I believe garnishing a bowl of soup is a deeply personal activity. But just in case you’re looking for a little guidance, I will tell you what you’re looking at in these photos. My bowl features fresh Thai basil, cilantro, scallions, and thin slices of red onion. I meant to add beansprouts, but they didn’t make it out of the fridge. I swear, every shoot I manage to forget something. This is merely a serving suggestion. Pile anything you want into your bowl and live your truth.

So that’s pretty much everything you need to know about this Thai Fish Cake Noodle Soup. This is almost everything you need to survive what I think is the most January of Januarys. Slurpable noodles, sinus-clearing broth, and tender fish cakes to boot, this soup is the silver lining to any bleak midwinter day. Throw in a snow shovel and some road salt and you’ve got yourself a Canadian winter survival kit.

Enjoy!