Pandanus leaves are usually sold in a bundle in Asian markets. But they are either sold frozen or in powdered form in other parts of the world. When buying, always look for firm glossy-green, juicy leaves.
Culinary uses: In Southeast Asia, pandanus leaves are mainly used for their fragrance in desserts and meat and rice dishes, while the green juice is also used to provide a bright green color to foods. Whole pandanus leaves are also used as wrappers or containers for food. They are folded into elaborate origami-like containers to hold coconut custard cakes which are steamed to create a delightful perfumed dessert. In many exotic street markets, it is possible to find streets stalls which offer grilled seafood snacks wrapped in pandanus leaves. You don’t have to look for these snacks, the aromas will lead you to them!
Preparation: For maximum effect, always rake the leaves by holding them flat on a work surface and running a fork down their length so the juice is released, then tie each leaf into a knot before adding it to a dish. To prepare pandanus juice, slice several leaves and grind them in a mortar or food processor until fine, then strain, squeezing out the juice.
Storing: The leaves keep for a week in the refrigerator, wrapped in paper towels and sealed in a plastic bag. You may freeze them to keep for a longer period.
Substitutes: Use fresh pandanus leaves whenever possible; commercial pandanus essence does not give a true pandanus aroma or flavor. If they are unavailable, the closest substitute would be lemongrass.
Perilla or shiso leaves ~
My first encounter with perilla or shiso was on a visit to Japan where I studied the art of sashimi cutting. I watched a sushi master chef nonchalantly wrap a piece of tuna with an almost perfectly heart-shaped green leaf and place it on a wooden tray. I was curious what the leaf was, so I asked for one and tentatively bit in. Wow! The flavor was a mixture of mint with beefy aniseed aromas. The combination with the piece of tuna and a lashing of wasabi lit up my palate and the aroma sent up from my mouth to my nose was unmatched. Later I found out that the leaf is called the “beefsteak” herb in Japanese. As I could not bring the seeds home, I continued to look for this plant in Japanese restaurants. I finally found it in Cabramatta, where red perilla is used as a garnish for Vietnamese pho soups.
Perilla is native to China and Burma. There are two varieties, red and green, and both are heart-shaped with serrated edges. They have a refreshing minty and slightly beefy and aniseed-like aroma—one of the reasons why the name “beefsteak” herb has often been used. Red perilla is doubled colored, with dark green on one side and reddish-purple on the other, and the green is bright and flat. This variety of perilla is used in Japan for making ume boshi, a kind of pickled plum paste. The green variety is used in soups. The Japanese use these leaves extensively in cooking. The leaves, the small stems of the flowering seed pods (hana hojiso), and the sprouts of the plant (mejiso) are all used as an edible garnishes for sushi and sashimi—the leaves are used as sushi wraps and sometimes deep-fried as tempura. The Vietnamese and Japanese also value this plant for its antibiotic properties. Perilla has been used by Asian herbalists to relieve the effects of fish poisoning and to treat influenza and coughs.
Purchasing: Look for packets of perilla leaves in Japanese stores. Soft, floppy leaves can easily be refreshed by soaking their stems in water.
Culinary uses: Perilla leaves are an integral part of Japanese and Vietnamese cuisine. The larger leaves are finely sliced and used in salads or as a wrapper for barbecued meats. I have used red perilla for cooking beef stir-fries with great success. Chopped red perilla should be added just before the cooking ends.
Preparation: Wash, dry and use the leaves as instructed.
Storing: Wrap in damp paper towels and keep in the refrigerator for 2–3 days. Perilla should not be kept for too long or the aromas will be lost.
Substitutes: Vietnamese mint or basil.
Vietnamese mint ~ laksa leaf or polygonum
Accidentally trample on a bed of Vietnamese mint and you will receive a burst of herbaceous aromas: minty, peppery, lemony and aniseed with a hint of bitter basil in the back notes. Crunch a leaf and you will get the tart, sharp-tasting bitterness that lends a distinctive quality to this versatile herb, which is not only used in Vietnam but in the rest of Asia in countless ways. This leaf is not really a mint but a closer relative to basil than to coriander or mint. The dark-green, almond-shaped leaves are long and tapering with a bright green color and a distinctive dark red or green “arrow” shape in the center.
As a child, I always had a bush of Vietnamese mint or daun kesom in my backyard, growing among the pandanus and lemongrass beds. The chickens scratched among these herb beds and they were often trampled upon when we looked for wayward shuttlecocks from the badminton court near-by, but the mint plant never died. This was the mint we used for a special sour tamarind-broth laksa that came from the north of Malaya, which bore a striking similarity to the hot and sour tom yum soup from across the border in Thailand.
Whenever we used this mint in any of our laksas or a soup dish from Indonesia called soto, the kitchen was filled with aromas that gave everyone an appetite in eager anticipation of dinner. This is a mint that I choose when I want to impress my guests in a salad or spring roll. It is an unusual little herb that can go undetected until it is crushed and scattered over a salad or soup, when it can light up the palate and create wonderful combinations of aromas and tastes.
Fish for instance, when cooked with Vietnamese mint, can suddenly taste minty or peppery. Squid stuffed with Vietnamese mint and a very finely ground pork mixture changes the flavor of the squid. My laksa sauces are renowned for their flavor, and I believe the secret lies in their combination of onion, garlic and a bit of lemongrass with this quiet little herb. It is a plant that grows easily so anyone can have fresh Vietnamese mint on hand and it could be used in any culinary situation where mint is called for.
Purchasing: Look for dark green leaves in firm bunches with a fresh aroma. They should look plump and fresh, without any signs of bruising.
Culinary uses: Vietnamese mint is used in Vietnamese and Laotian table salads and in laksas, especially Penang Laksa. You should try some leaves in a ham or chicken sandwich or with boiled eggs mashed with a dash of home-made mayonnaise.
Preparation: Strip the leaves and tender stalks from the central stem before using.
Storing: Wrap in a damp paper towel and keep refrigerated in a plastic container. Place the stems in a glass of water and they will root easily, after which they can be planted in pots. A wilted bunch may be revived by soaking them in iced water.
Substitutes: Equal parts of mint and coriander leaves or Asian pennywort.
8 oz (250 g) fresh tuna or salmon fillets, poached and flaked with a fork
2 medium potatoes (8 oz/250 g), peeled, boiled and mashed
1 onion, finely diced
1 green onion, chopped
2 tablespoons minced curry leaves
1 teaspoon amchoor mango powder
1 teaspoon bottled sweet chili
