One Dinner, One Diner, One Wine #2 - Congee

On a chilly morning in Hobart, I am delighted to see congee on the menu of a food stall at the Farm Gate Market.

This time of year Hobart is freezing, especially through the city streets. Multi-storey buildings on either side of the cross hatched city streets create wind tunnels for Kununyi (Mount Wellington) to deliver its icy breath.

On arriving at the market I wander the length of the stalls, perusing the fresh vegetables, baked goods and home brewed beers and spirits. Fresh bottled milk, juice and meats sold by the farmers, or at least their representatives, direct to committed locals and enthusiastic visitors.

Hunger is beckoning me to the familiar and comforting; perhaps an egg and bacon roll or a sweet flakey croissant. But I keep walking past the lines of passionate pastry lovers and wafts of fried bacon to the congee stall, Rough Rice, for I know that my mind and body will thank me for the whole day, and perhaps the next one. 

The first congee I ever tasted was in Thailand, sitting at an outdoor breakfast bar that overlooked the River Kwai, also known as Si Sawat. Close to the border with Myanmar, the 380km river flanked by lush tropical forests and small villages.

We arrive the night before after a few days living the chaos of Bangkok. This small lush village feels much more my style. A mix of simple suburban daily life and secluded cabins and boutique hotels. Of course there are many tourists; drawn to the historic Bridge on the River Kwai, but perhaps it is the history of this particular attraction; war, destruction, loss, survival, that encourages a more reflective, respectful and sombre atmosphere for locals and visitors.

I throw on a light kaftan and walk the timber boards to breakfast. It is already 25 degrees and humid. The dining room is a large covered deck that hangs out over the river.

Our friendly hosts beckon us to eat from the buffet of fresh decoratively cut fruit, bread rolls, bland pale pink ham, steamed rice, packets of jam and scrambled eggs.

I am disappointed at the prospect of consuming a western breakfast in such an exotic location, while sitting on the edge of an iconic river, surrounded by tropical gardens and local fishing boats. Limp ham has no appeal and I walk on, hoping for something else.

Sitting right at the end of the table is what looks like a slow cooker, surrounded by small bowls filled with an array of condiments including chilli oil, spring onions, coriander, lime and other unrecognisable morsels. 

I lift the lid and am immediately hit by a huge cloud of steam and then the delicious savoury aroma. It resembles porridge, but instead of oats I recognise the broken grains of cooked rice, pieces of spring onion and the delicious aroma of ginger.

I ladle the thick creamy mixture into a small bowl, sprinkle a modest amount of condiments, setting up enthusiastically at a table right on the edge of the deck and away from the larger group that has now arrived.

Below me is the rushing water and in the middle of the river a small long boat with two men, heading up stream. To the right is the bridge. Made famous by the 1957 Hollywood film, Bridge on the River Kwai, which was taken from the Pierre Boulle novel, The Bridge over the River Kwai.

The film is not accurate to the bridge’s history, but the story is fascinating and worth exploring as the rebuilt bridge, that stretches over the expansive river offers a glimpse into the dramatic and tragic history of Kanchanaburi, Thailand.

I still remember the flavour and texture of the porridge. Love at first mouthful, or mouthfeel. One of those food memories that taps me on the shoulder at every Asian cafe and stall; as I search for the words 'rice porridge' or 'congee' on the menu. While for most it is the last thing on their list, for me it is pure gold; medicine, meditation, nourishment, comfort. Delicious.

Seeing congee on the menu at the roughrice food stall draws me in. The congee maker and creator of roughrice, Adam James, is chatting to a punter about his small bottles of elixir. Golden yellow, fiery fermented liquor in small glass bottles. 

He has become well known for his obsession for fermentation; delivering workshops, products and presenting diners with unusual combinations, such as in this case, wallaby curry, blueberries and pickled vegetables. 

Described as a self-taught cook, fermenter and experiment maker, Adam has run fermentation classes at the Agrarian Kitchen and has a fascinating story that demonstrates his larger than life dedication and passion for fermentation...pickles, powders and potions.

My love for congee I think also references my resourcefulness and recycling in the kitchen. I have saved left over rice to use a few days later in a homemade congee. Nothing fancy, but a delicious version can be made relatively quickly with ginger, garlic, chilli, asian herbs from the garden, some beans, tofu and spring onions.

This is a dish that makes the diner happy in tummy and mind. Marrying the many colourful garnishes - can be vegetarian, vegan or for meat lovers. 

There is a version in most asian countries. In the Phillipines it is referred to as Lugaw and Jook in Korean - a rice porridge in Cantonese. Apparently it originated in China and dates back to approximately 1000 BC during the Zhou dynasty.

So how does the Hobart version stack up?

There is an earnest and authentic honesty to this food, that is evident on the face of the creator and in how the humble bowl is prepared.

Bubbling away on the gas ring are woks and pots for the various ingredients; some recognisable and others are new discoveries. Once the rice porridge is ladled into the bowl, it is draped with sauteed asian greens that have been quickly wok fried. Colourful condiments including pickles, sauces, potions and what looks like puréed vegetable or maybe lentils, are arranged carefully on top of the hot thick porridge. Each with their own spoon and each dished out with precision and care; marrying each specific pinch of spice and flavour to each order. And lastly blueberries…yes blueberries, as a small bundle are lovingly sprinkled atop, before the Congee with wallaby and greens is safely delivered to me.

From the 1st spoonful this dish delivers. I wanted warm, rich, nourishing and it gave me so much more. Warming me on a cold day, this was a surprising and delicious combination of umami, crunchy fermented spice and something else quite unrecognisable. Like an impressionist landscape, the colours, textures and flavours blurred and danced together in wonderful, strange and incredibly harmonious spoonfuls.

I find a step to sit on. Completely oblivious to the crowds around me, the scent of crispy bacon and croissants. This humble, but beautifully made congee has a history and a flavour foundation that cuts through them all. 

I know that throughout the day these flavours will return again and again to remind and reassure. Will remind me of Thailand, remind me of my mother’s cooking and my own precious time in the garden and the kitchen. Lovingly plucking broad beans, berries and herbs to through into homemade concoctions. 

The comfort of simplicity, the honesty of clean food, and the love that can be captured and shared.

Congee is a dish I will revisit enthusiastically. Wholesome and lovingly prepared; there is reverence in this small bowl of rice porridge. 

Thanks Adam.