
The result is refreshing, bold and deeply satisfying. Just before serving add the watercress, roughly chop the cashews and add to the bowl. Toss the chicken, carrot, green beans, cabbage, shallot and the dressing in a bowl. For even more texture, we toasted the coconut to crisp it and bring out sweet, nutty flavors. STEP 1 Mix the dressing ingredients together with some seasoning, and loosen with 1 tsp water.
#CASHEW CHICKEN SALAD RECIPE FULL#
The finished flavor was bright, sharp, savory and sweet, and in just 10 minutes it infused and moistened the chicken.įor the greens, shredded cabbage and a full 4 cups of fresh basil and cilantro added freshness and crunch.
#CASHEW CHICKEN SALAD RECIPE TRIAL#
After a bit of trial and error, we winnowed the dressing down to the essentials-chilies, garlic, lime juice, fish sauce and sugar. A rotisserie chicken made quick work of the protein, and a liberal hand with the dressing-as well as giving the shredded chicken time to absorb it-made poaching in flavored liquid unnecessary. The effect is bright, savory and rich with punches of heat balanced by the freshness of herbs.Īt Milk Street, we wanted to streamline. Shallots offer sharp notes, as well as sweetness and crunch.Ĭhin Chin head chef Ralph So walked me through the nam jim, a daunting assembly of cilantro, chilies, sugar, fish sauce, lemon and lime juices, caramelized garlic, vinegar and salt. In this salad, shredded chicken-first poached in coconut milk infused with turmeric, galangal and lemon grass-and grated coconut are tossed with a tangle of mint and cilantro so copious they become the salad greens. It was like no chicken salad I’d ever tasted, usually a flavorless mess of sweetness and singular textures. Flavors and textures swirl and compete and balance, making every bite pop with contrast.Įasily my favorite dish from the robust and rollicking menu was the coconut chicken salad with cashews and nam jim, a dressing inspired by a bracing Thai dipping sauce. These aren’t just bold, they’re brash, attention-seeking and demanding. Green papaya with chilies, peanuts and tamarind dressing. Cherry tomatoes with Chinese olive vinaigrette, chili oil, tamarind and Thai basil. Caramelized sticky pork with sour herbs and chili vinegar. The bold cacophony continues on the menu, particularly the salads. Which is to say, eating at Chin Chin-a funky and sprawling nondenominationally Asian restaurant in Sydney’s trendy Surry Hills neighborhood-smacks of sensory overload, the whitewashed walls and ceiling leaving your focus on the food. They dance out of the wide and open kitchen toward you, mingling with the tunes of Toto and Tina Turner. Cilantro, chili, lime, basil, something elusively savory. It’s the riot of aromas that strikes you first.
