Salt and Pepper Sauce in CambodiaKa

Salt and Pepper Sauce in Cambodia
Karen Coates, a journalist and blogger, watched the harvest of salt and pepper in Cambodia.
On Cambodia’s southern coast, mountains meet the sea. So do salt and pepper — spices at a confluence of history, culture and cuisine.
Cambodian salt is not kind on the worker who harvests it. I first saw the drudgery while reporting on child labor in 2005. When a family’s money is tight, children often help their parents harvest the salt in open pools beneath the pounding sun.
“I go to school in the morning, but I work in the afternoon,” an 11-year-old girl named Chien Ri told me. Rough, white crystals emerge in rectangular ponds along the edges of the Gulf of Thailand, between the towns of Kampot and Kep. Mother Nature provides evaporative heat; hardened hands do all the rest — raking, shoveling, lifting, hauling. The process hasn’t changed in centuries; records of Angkor empire life reference river-caught fish preserved in salt that was sun-dried on the same coast in the 13th century.
Workers shield their heads in checkered scarves as they tramp — sometimes in socks, sometimes barefoot — through the hot, abrasive slurry. Bamboo poles stretched across shoulders sag beneath the weight of overloaded baskets. But the product is considered an essential part of Cambodian cuisine. “The salt makes the soup,” Som Tau, another harvester, told me.
Pepper is equally important to the Cambodian meal. Known as the “king of spice,” it flavored ancient dishes long before the chile arrived. It grows a few miles inland, at the foot of Phnom Voar, “Vine Mountain.” During French colonial times, Kampot pepper was the darling of European dinner tables. Decades of civil war ended that: For 20 years, Phnom Voar was a Khmer Rouge stronghold. The area was bombed and mined, and pepper production stopped. But it’s back, now, on a smaller scale, as artisanal farmers revive a beloved trade. In 2010, the Cambodian government accorded Kampot pepper Geographical Indication status, linking the spice to its origins and giving it a certain panache.
A food story first took me to Kep’s pepper fields a decade ago. I knew the spice well — I’m a fiend for fresh seafood grilled or fried with pepper’s fiery bouquet — but I’d never seen it growing: a climbing vine propped on poles, with tiny hanging fruits called drupes. Color depends on maturity and processing. Black peppercorns are picked unripe when they are green, then dried and darkened by the sun. When the fruits remain on the vine months longer, they ripen to a brilliant red. When soaked in brine, those berries lose their outer coats and the result, when dried, is white.
But the most distinctive version, abundant only at its source, is the fresh green peppercorn. The drupes are picked well before they ripen. Each stem can hold 20 to 30 plump little fruits, spicy and floral. Stems are tossed whole into woks across Cambodia. On first bite, flavor bursts on the tongue in a mild, almost perfumed sweetness. Then it hits the throat, and there it stays, strong and hot, throughout the meal.
When dried, Kampot pepper will last a decade, “no problem,” a plantation worker named Pon See told me years ago. “In Cambodia, we crush the pepper and eat with pork.” (Or fish, or shrimp, or crab.)
My favorite preparation is a simple sauce, a marriage of both spices: crushed black pepper and salt, drizzled with just enough squeezed lime to make a thin paste (sometimes sugar is added). I ate that sauce one night at a little Kep restaurant called the Kimly. It accompanied four small crabs with sweet, tender meat in a marinade of black pepper, flat-leaf chives, sugar, salt and lemon grass; served with sweet bell pepper and crispy Kaffir lime leaves. The Kimly sits just a block from the Gulf of Thailand, close enough to feel the salt breeze. I dipped the crab into that pepper and savored every bite, knowing the labor that went into them.

Results (English) 1:

Salt and Pepper Sauce in CambodiaKaren Coates, a journalist and blogger, watched the harvest of salt and pepper in Cambodia.On Cambodia's southern coast, mountains meet the sea. So do salt and pepper — spices at a confluence of history, culture and cuisine.Cambodian salt is not kind on the worker who harvests it. I first saw the drudgery while reporting on child labor in 2005. When a family money is tight, children often help their parents harvest the salt in open pools beneath the pounding sun."I go to school in the morning, but I work in the afternoon," an 11-year-old girl named Chien Ri told me. Rough, white crystals emerge in rectangular ponds along the edges of the Gulf of Thailand, between the towns of Kampot and Kep. Mother Nature provides evaporative heat; hardened hands do all the rest — raking, shoveling, lifting, hauling. The process hasn't changed in centuries; records of Angkor empire life reference river-caught fish preserved in salt that was sun-dried on the same coast in the 13th century.Workers shield their heads in checkered scarves as they tramp — sometimes in socks, sometimes barefoot — through the hot, abrasive slurry. Bamboo poles stretched across shoulders sag beneath the weight of overloaded baskets. But the product is considered an essential part of Cambodian cuisine. "The salt makes the soup," Som Tau, another harvester, told me.Pepper is equally important to the Cambodian meal. Known as the "king of spice," it flavored ancient dishes long before the chile arrived. It grows a few miles inland, at the foot of Phnom Voar, "Vine Mountain." During French colonial times, Kampot pepper was the darling of European dinner tables. Decades of civil war ended that: For 20 years, Phnom Voar was a Khmer Rouge stronghold. The area was bombed and mined, and pepper production stopped. But it's back, now, on a smaller scale, as artisanal farmers revive a beloved trade. In 2010, the Cambodian government accorded Kampot pepper Geographical Indication status, linking the spice to its origins and giving it a certain panache.A food story first took me to Kep's pepper fields a decade ago. I knew the spice well — I'm a fiend for fresh seafood grilled or fried with peppers fiery bouquet — but I'd never seen it growing: a climbing vine propped on poles, with tiny hanging fruits called drupes. Color depends on maturity and processing. Black peppercorns are picked unripe when they are green, then dried and darkened by the sun. When the fruits remain on the vine months longer, they ripen to a brilliant red. When soaked in brine, those berries lose their outer coats and the result, when dried, is white.But the most distinctive version, abundant only at its source, is the fresh green peppercorn. The drupes are picked well before they ripen. Each stem can hold 20 to 30 plump little fruits, spicy and floral. Stems are tossed whole into woks across Cambodia. On first bite, flavor bursts on the tongue in a mild, almost perfumed sweetness. Then it hits the throat, and there it stays, strong and hot, throughout the meal.When dried, Kampot pepper will last a decade, "no problem," a plantation worker named Pon Se told me years ago. "In Cambodia, we crush the pepper and eat with pork." (Or fish, or shrimp, or crab.)My favorite preparation is a simple sauce, a marriage of both spices: crushed black pepper and salt, drizzled with just enough squeezed lime to make a thin paste (sometimes sugar is added). I ate that sauce one night at a little Keep restaurant called the Kimly. It accompanied four small crabs with sweet, tender meat in a marinade of black pepper, flat-leaf chives, sugar, salt and lemon grass; served with sweet bell pepper and crispy Kaffir lime leaves. The Kimly sits just a block from the Gulf of Thailand, close enough to feel the salt breeze. I dipped the crab into that pepper and savor every bite, knowing the labor that went into them.

Results (English) 3:

盐和柬埔寨
凯伦Coates辣椒酱，新闻记者和博客作者，在观看柬埔寨的盐和胡椒的收获。
在柬埔寨南部海岸的山脉，满足大海。所以做盐和胡椒香料在合流的历史，文化和美食。
柬埔寨盐不在工人收获它。我第一次看到的苦工而报告2005童工。当一个家庭的钱很紧，孩子经常帮助父母收获开放池跳动的阳光下盐。
“我早上上学，但我在下午工作，”一个11岁的女孩名叫千千里告诉我。粗糙，在矩形池沿泰国湾的边缘出现的白色晶体，贡布和主要城镇之间。大自然提供的蒸发热；硬化的手做所有的休息-耙，铲，起重，牵引。这个过程并没有改变几个世纪的吴哥帝国；生活参考河记录捕获的鱼腌制，风干的海岸在第十三世纪。
工人保护他们的头在方格围巾作为他们的流浪汉-有时在袜子，有时赤脚通过热，磨料浆。竹杆横跨肩膀凹陷的重压下，重载的篮子。但产品被认为是柬埔寨美食的重要组成部分。“盐制汤，“SOM头，另一个收获，告诉我。
胡椒是柬埔寨饭同样重要。被称为“国王的香料，“这味菜之前，智利到古代。它生长的内陆几英里，在金边角牛脚，“藤山。”在法国殖民时期，贡布胡椒是欧洲的餐桌上的新宠。几十年的内战结束了，20年来，金边角牛是红色高棉据点。该地区被炸毁，开采，和胡椒生产停止。但它的背，现在，在小规模的个体农民，为恢复一个心爱的贸易。2010，柬埔寨政府给予贡布胡椒地理标志的现状，结合SPICE源头，赋予其一定的派头。
食物的故事第一次带我十年前kep的辣椒领域。我知道香料以及我对烧烤或油炸辣椒的火热的花束-新鲜的海鲜的朋友但我从来没有看到它成长：一种藤本植物支撑杆，小挂水果称为核果。颜色取决于成熟和处理。黑胡椒采摘未成熟时绿色，干燥，太阳变黑了。当水果留在葡萄，几个月的时间，他们成熟到一个灿烂的红色。当浸泡在盐水，这些浆果失去外层和结果，干燥时，是白色的。
但最有特色的版本，只在其来源丰富，是新鲜绿胡椒。核果采前成熟。每个干可容纳20至30胖嘟嘟的水果，香料和花。茎被整成工作在柬埔寨。在第一口，在温和的舌头上的阵阵芳香甜美的味道，几乎。然后它击中喉咙，还有它停留，强热，整个用餐。
干燥时，贡布胡椒将持续十年，“没问题，”一个种植园工人名叫PON看到年前告诉我。“在柬埔寨，我们把胡椒和吃猪肉。”（或鱼或虾，蟹，或
。）我最喜欢的制备是一个简单的酱，两种香料的婚姻：黑胡椒粉和盐，撒上足够的挤压石灰使薄糊（添加有时糖）。我吃了一个晚上，在一个小篮子酱餐厅叫kimly。它伴随着四个小螃蟹与甜蜜，在腌胡椒嫩的肉，平叶韭菜，糖，盐和柠檬草；配青椒和香酥柠檬叶。的kimly只是坐在一个块从泰国湾，近到足以感受海风。我把螃蟹，辣椒，品尝每一口，了解到他们的劳动。