Raising a family in Thailand // Documenting Issan food, culture, music, and people
I bought this off a retiring colleague a couple years ago and used it a few times. The last time I tried, though, it was broken. This amp actually sounds pretty good, so I want to get it repaired. The crusty tinker shops that used to fix this kind of thing are scarce now, so I need to keep my eye open for somewhere that can do it cheaply.
“Potak” apparently means “shipwreck,” although I haven’t confirmed it beyond a Google search.*
This may be considered a variant of Tom Yum Goong, although it really depends on who’s making it. Some online recipes describe it as Tom Yum soup with nam phrik pao (roasted chili paste) added, but every version I’ve had has been much more than that – some are more sour, some have a pinkish stock, some are clear, and some, as above, are packed with herbs. Either way, when we find versions we like, they are usually superior to Tom Yum Goong (which also comes in many versions, the most popular overseas version being the creamy style with coconut milk). Just looking at this photo makes my mouth water with anticipated sour garlic spice explosions – we will visit this place (near Nam’s uni) again, soon.
*Update: After some more research, the “Po” in “potak” refers to a fishing pontoon used in the south of Thailand. “Tak” means “break.” So this word compound refers to when a pontoon breaks off (e.g. during a storm) and floats away. My best guess as to a specific kind of pontoon (there are many, including floating docks and piers) is described by this page as a “bamboo stake trap” set in shallow or deep water. I will archive some photos from that page and others here:
I need to go check these out in person sometime, they look fascinating.
When we built our house in Thailand 17 years ago, we had a Japanese-style name plate carved in granite. When we were thinking of selling our house and moving back to the states last year after the floods, we painted it it over and put an artsy plastic address number over it. Then, when we decided not to move back after all, I eventually scraped all the paint off it… No harm, no foul, I guess.
These particular fields (next to a needle shop and art village) have lain fallow for so long, I’m not sure if there’s actually any rice left.
They were nice enough to put a nappy on it.
Thai meatballs (luk chin or look chin, depending on your preferred Romanization) are, like sausage, popular and of mysterious formulation — you never really know what they’re made of, even after eating them. More important, however, is the dipping sauce. Good dipping sauce has saved many a bad meatball, and sauce is actually one of the most important aspects of Thai culture.
The neighborhood was lit up. Taken in front of our house.
Someday, I will make a list all of the vehicles I have owned over the years. A truck has never been among them, until recently. After our neighborhood and my precious Crown was flooded in 2022 (the Crown is sitting at my mechanic’s place, waiting for me to save enough money for a proper restoration), I needed new wheels. Since both of our kids were studying in the USA at the time, I figured we could get away with a standard size pickup and got a great deal on the Triton. It’s been great for carrying stuff around.
An older lady in the neighborhood was giving away huge potted plants, so Nam and I headed over to her house after work one night.
She told us the local name of the plants, which I have since forgotten, and I have since misidentified them several times. We originally thought they were giant lilies (Crinum asiaticum), but that appears not to be the case.
We gave the two shown on the back of the truck to Nam’s mom and kept the twins in the pot on our driveway shown in the top pic. The twins were eventually infected with rust, so I had to do some serious leaf removal.
It was hard deep frying inside the house until we upgraded our Electrolux hood with a 1HP Mitsubishi blower on our roof.
