09/16/2025 · 3:20 pm
Writer M.F.K. Fisher, patron saint of bookish Western foodies everywhere, wrote her most famous book, “How to Cook a Wolf”, during the second world war when food shortages ran rampant and the real threat of a family member’s death hung over most households. The “wolf” in question, of course, was the dreaded “wolf at the door”, taken usually to mean the looming specter of financial ruin. Even then, Fisher believed, one should be able to live with dignity and eat well (Note: in these fraught times, quoting someone else’s words directly can be dangerous, but I think M.F.K. Fisher remains an uncontroversial figure):
“I believe that one of the most dignified ways we are capable of, to assert and then reassert our dignity in the face of poverty and war’s fears an…
09/16/2025 · 3:20 pm
Writer M.F.K. Fisher, patron saint of bookish Western foodies everywhere, wrote her most famous book, “How to Cook a Wolf”, during the second world war when food shortages ran rampant and the real threat of a family member’s death hung over most households. The “wolf” in question, of course, was the dreaded “wolf at the door”, taken usually to mean the looming specter of financial ruin. Even then, Fisher believed, one should be able to live with dignity and eat well (Note: in these fraught times, quoting someone else’s words directly can be dangerous, but I think M.F.K. Fisher remains an uncontroversial figure):
“I believe that one of the most dignified ways we are capable of, to assert and then reassert our dignity in the face of poverty and war’s fears and pains, is to nourish ourselves with all possible skill, delicacy and ever-increasing enjoyment. And with our gastronomical growth will come, inevitably, knowledge and perception of a hundred other things, but mainly of ourselves. Then Fate, even tangled as it is with cold wars as well as hot, cannot harm us.”
It’s hard to believe that, almost a century later, these sentiments would be so revolutionary. Today, decades into our post-9/11 “Forever Wars”, we have become so steeped in the religion of capitalism that we believe that CEOs with inherited wealth are inherently better than the rest of us, and that the people who are “worse at capitalism” don’t deserve to enjoy even a single moment of their lives with a sip of soda or a taste of candy. Today, we give tax cuts to the richest of us, but consider the poorest of us as eyesores to be hidden away. Today, there are many different wolves at the door, not just the ones promising financial ruin, and they are all demanding to be let in at a time when all we can afford are stick houses.
What better dish for these times, then, than “pad mama”? “Mama”, of course, is the most famous instant noodle brand in Thailand, but any instant noodles will do (even Shin or Nissin). I was reminded of this dish after my friend James ordered five in one sitting, from where he didn’t know; he was just craving pad mama at that moment. Sometimes, one needs a reprieve from Mama as it’s usually eaten (that would be in soup noodle form), and few dishes are as forgiving and wallet-friendly as Mama that’s undergone a few rounds in a hot pan.
Most recipes call for cabbage and carrots and some protein like minced pork, but, as in the case of pad mama’s spiritual brethren “khao pad” (fried rice), anything that’s lingering in the refrigerator will probably work. Having just subscribed to the weekly Onela Market vegetable box, my fridge was still stuffed full of red cabbage, the saddest winged beans on earth, and a handful of cherry tomatoes, so I added those to a hot pan greased up with pork lard and a couple of minced garlic cloves. I set my Mama (the minced pork flavor) to cook in a saucepan of boiling water with all the seasonings, and just before I thought the noodles were fully cooked, I lifted the noodles into the pan with the vegetables. A quick rummage through the half-empty sauces yielded gochujang, sweet chili sauce, soy sauce and sesame oil, and I added a teaspoonful of each. A couple of quick flips in the pan to distribute all the sauce throughout and the noodles were done, topped with a single egg over easy (cooked just enough to squirt egg yolk when broken into), a dash of Gold Medal Sriracha sauce, the very last remaining fresh coriander leaves, and a modest sprinkle of “kak moo” (pork crackling bits left over from rendering pork lard).
You can follow my recipe below, but to be honest, the very best thing about this dish is that there’s no real recipe you need to follow. If you want to use roasted chili jam (nam prik pao) instead of gochujang, go right ahead; mashing garlic and fresh chilies up in the mortar and pestle and adding those to the party is also a good idea. Making minced pork meatballs to do a take on Italian-American spaghetti is fun, as would adding cut-up hotdogs and ketchup (the world is ending, why not enjoy yourself?). If you prefer a Japanese take, you can add umeboshi paste, shelled edamame and julienned shiso leaves as a garnish, or, for a Korean take, you can add cut-up kimchi, grated ginger and a sprinkling of sesame seeds. If you have tom yum flavor Mama, you can add canned tuna, tamarind paste and makrut lime leaves, or go all out with river prawns and a healthy dash of seafood dipping sauce. Bacon, Maggi, sugar, deep-fried shallots: pad mama will take anything that comes its way (even an entire pack of wolves). This makes it a wonderful role model for everything that’s in store for all of us, somewhere, sometime, at the end of the tunnel that is whatever all this is.
Pad Mama, today’s version
(Serves one)
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A dollop of pork lard or unscented oil
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1 package of instant Mama noodles (minced pork flavor), cooked al dente and drained
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2 cloves garlic, minced
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2 sad outer leaves of a red cabbage, julienned
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A handful of hopeless winged beans from the bottom of a drawer in the refrigerator, chopped
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3-4 lonely cherry tomatoes, halved
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1 egg from the stall next to the motorcycle stand
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1 heaping teaspoon Gochujang (for heat)
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1 teaspoon soy sauce (for salt)
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1 teaspoon dipping sauce for fried chicken or sukiyaki (for sweetness)
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1 teaspoon sesame oil (for aroma) Garnish:
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1 slick of Thai Sriracha (for the egg)
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The very last leaves and stems of fresh coriander, chopped
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A shower of leftover pork crackling In a hot pan or wok, add lard or oil until sizzling, then your veggies: garlic, cabbage, winged beans, tomatoes, or what have you. Give them a few stirs until they look wilted or softened, and then add your noodles and give them a good stir or a few flips in the pan. Next, add your seasonings, making sure they are distributed evenly throughout the noodles; give it a taste and then decant into a bowl when it’s ready. Break your egg into the pan and cook according to what you prefer (I like over easy but with a soft yolk). Add your egg to the top and season with Sriracha, then garnish the whole thing with fresh coriander and pork cracklings. Today’s pad mama is done! (Note: No wolves were harmed in the making of this dish).
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