Farewell to Southeast Asia
January 27, 2010 | Location: Indonesia, Laos, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand | 8 Comments
One hundred and forty-five days ago, Helene and I began our adventure around the world.
After a short layover in Japan, we headed down to Indonesia, to Denpasar and Ubud on the island of Bali. Relaxed but increasingly annoyed by the overgrown tourist industry of Ubud, we took the slow train across the island of Java, in the most exciting two weeks of our trip to date. We stopped in the towns and cities of Banyuwangyi, Probolinggo, Surabaya, Yogyakarta, all the way to Jakarta. From Jakarta, we flew to Singapore, where we spent an awesome two weeks with our friends Audran and Joëlle, discovering soup tulang, durian and amazing Indian food.
From Singapore, we rode the bus across Malaysia to Melaka, then to Kuala Lumpur, and from there flew to Bangkok, where we happily renewed with the city’s superb street food. We discovered our happy place in a small ocean bay to the south, then ventured forth to Vientiane, Laos, where we lost ourselves in the awesome French food. On the way back, we rediscovered the joy of traveling off the beaten path by exploring the cities of Isaan; specifically, Udon Thani and Nakhon Ratchasima made a strong impression.
After all this time, South-East Asia feels like home. In farewell to the region, here’s our very personal roundup of the high and low points of our adventures so far.
Best Street Meal: Nasi Goreng, Yogyakarta, Java, Indonesia
We found this street stall not too far from the backpacker area by following our noses – no joke! The owner was so friendly and charming, I took to calling her my Indonesian auntie. The next evening, her granddaughter cooked our nasi goreng (fried rice) and soto ayam (chicken soup) in a wok over charcoal. The food was so amazing, it beat any fried rice I’ve had before – and I’ve lived three years in China.
Runner-up: The famous and fabulous noodle soup in Bangkok, Thailand
Best Upscale Meal: Yantra Restaurant, Singapore
When my friend Audran said he’d treat us to a fantastic Indian meal, he wasn’t kidding – Yantra’s menu was so exquisite, it makes my mouth water just thinking about it again! Yantra marked one of the first moments in our trip where we just knew we had to go to India next. Thanks again, Audran!
Runner-up: Le Vendôme’s superb French comfort food, in Vientiane, Laos
Best Drink: Java Joss, Yogyakarta, Java, Indonesia
What happens when you take a boiling glass of sweet Javanese coffee, then dunk in a piece of glowing coal? Coffee heaven! We had to look hard to find this one, as it’s only available north of the train station after 6 PM, from a line of street stalls along the sidewalk. The caffeine kept me up all night – it was totally worth it.
Runner-up: The incredible avocado shake with chocolate syrup and condensed milk, in a flowery alley of Surabaya, Java, Indonesia
Worst Meal & Drink: Breakfast in Banyuwangyi, Java, Indonesia
After a string of amazing food in Denpasar, Bali, it came as quite a shock when we went out for the free breakfast of our local hotel in Banyuwangyi, on the Javanese side. The soto ayam (chicken soup) was barely recognizable, and filled us with sadness. Worst yet was the coffee – in an island known for its coffee beans, it’s shocking to find a cup of java that tastes like the inside of an intestine – no, really, it did.
Runner-up: Pad thai on the street in the Khaosan Road area of Bangkok, Thailand. I’ve had a better pad thai in a mall in Canada, and that says a lot.
Best Beer: Beerlao, Laos
More than just a beer, Laos’ Beerlao is a matter of national pride. You see its charmingly antiquated logo everywhere in Vientiane, making the beer near-ubiquitous in the Lao capital. It’s best enjoyed with ice, Lao-style, cooling down on a terrace.
Runner-up: Indonesia’s awesome Bintang beer
Best Accommodation: Bladok Losmen, Yogyakarta, Java, Indonesia
An amazing city, super friendly and helpful staff, a pool(!!), a balcony… We could have moved into that room on the third floor of Bladok Losmen. We spent all our evenings sitting on the balcony gazing at the city and listening to the evening call to prayer (and then downing a Bintang or two), and even indulged in the fancy but entirely satisfying restaurant downstairs. At $15 USD a night, this was the absolute best value we found.
Runner-up: Souphaphone’s gorgeous rooms ($25 USD) and friendly staff, Vientiane, Laos
Worst Accommodation: Sama Sama Guesthouse, Melaka, Malaysia
I’ve never run away from a guesthouse after dark – until that night when one of us stepped on a fat cockroach in the dark of our room. Coupled with the crappy shared toilets and the flimsy bed that complained all night at my weight, we just couldn’t face another night there. In Sama Sama’s defense, though, the guy working there was an absolute gentleman about the entire thing.
Runner-up: Orchid Guesthouse and its lethargic staff, located down a burning garbage-ridden road in Surabaya, Java, Indonesia
Most Beautiful Place: Happy Place, Thailand
The sound of the ocean usually woke me up in the morning, and we spent our days strolling along the ocean front. We loved the place so much, as a matter of fact, that when I blogged about it, I didn’t dare reveal the name lest some Lonely Planet writer stumbled upon it and ‘discovered’ it. I’m still gonna keep it to myself, but feel free to ask me by email!
Runner-up: Ubud, Bali, Indonesia – touristy but genuinely gorgeous for its numerous temples, flower offerings and startling rice fields
Scariest Moment: Hit and Run in Bangkok
You get used to the way Bangkok taxi drivers hustle in traffic. Then one day you climb aboard a cab with a driver who appears to be high-strung on amphetamines – allegedly, a common problem with taxis in Bangkok given how many hours they have to work in a day to make ends meet. Our driver proceeded to drive like a madman, and when he bumped a couple riding a motorcycle to the ground, he just sped away as Helene and I yelled our heads off at him. We opened the car doors to threaten damage to his cab if he didn’t stop, but that didn’t seem to scare him as much as the prospect of facing the cops. When the traffic in a side-alley forced him to stop, we took the cue – and jumped out of the cab.
Runner-up: Driving at high speed the curvy, narrow roads of Mount Bromo, Java, Indonesia; good thing we didn’t miss a curve – and plunge to a fiery death hundreds of meters below
Friendliest Place: Probolinggo, Java, Indonesia
“Welcome to Probolinggo!” grinned a young man, shaking my hand. This type of exhuberant display of friendliness was our first real contact with Java – and we fell in love with it. People asked us to pose for pictures with them, and a group of kids yelled at us enthusiastically from the other side of the busy boulevard. Helene ended up spending a long, merry hour talking to the girls, who gave her a rock star ovation when they saw her walk by the next day. We love Probolinggo!
Runner-up: The friendly and upbeat people of Nakhon Ratchasima, Isaan region, Thailand
Coolest Fellow Travelers: Kara and Damien
Kara and Damien, two Americans on a year trip, wrote me one day to discover the secret of our Happy Place. They asked nicely, so I relented. We hooked up for a street-side meal and a few drinks, and became fast friends. We gave them our Rough Guide to Thailand, and we inherited a cozy wool sweater given to them by friends in Jordan, an Indian SIM card, and plenty of advice on India and the Middle-East. Here’s to our next encounter on the road!
Runner-up: Beatrice, a cool German woman traveling independently at 62 for the first time in her life
Worst Fellow Traveler: Papa Bill
We call him “Papa Bill”. He latched unto us in Probolinggo, and just wouldn’t let go. Loud, disrespectful, narcissic and scatterbrained, he walked around with his younger Thai wife in tow, and through sheer inspired negligence ran into trouble faster than I could blink. When we boarded the train in Probolinggo, his presence and his numerous insults to the Indonesian people – spoken at loudspeaker volume – chilled the previously friendly atmosphere in seconds. He then proceeded to take pictures of workers outside the train, yelling “Yes! Yes! Yes!” to quell their protests. When the train came into the station in Surabaya, we didn’t think twice – we ran.
Runner-up: Any of the dozens of inconsiderate and condescending tourists that give us a bad name with the locals, especially around Khaosan Road
What Now?
It’s been in the cards a long time – we’re headed to India! Whether it was the vibrant lights of Deepavali in Singapore, or the street-side delights of a South Indian restaurant in Melaka, we’ve been craving a visit to the Indian subcontinent since the very first days of our trip.
On January 29 2010, we’re boarding a flight to Kolkata, in West Bengal. A new chapter begins for the Backpack Foodie!
Southeast Asia in Blog Posts
Indonesia
Singapore
Malaysia
Thailand – Bangkok and the South
Laos – Vientiane
Thailand – Isaan Region
Thailand’s Northeast, Part 2: Udon Thani to Khorat
January 25, 2010 | Location: Thailand | 5 Comments
For the first part of this two-part series, see Thailand’s Northeast, Part 1: Vientiane to Udon Thani.
The train ride from Udon Thani to Khon Kaen was uneventful, except for the dirt that landed in my mouth.
The train’s wheels launched a dirt chip in the air, through the window in front of me, where it impacted against the seat. A small bit flew straight at me and exploded against my teeth. I spent the next ten minutes rincing my mouth with water and spitting it out the window.
Considering we were paying 85 cents for a hundred kilometer train ride, I didn’t make too much of the unexpected meal service.
The Lost Dinosaurs
I spend a lot of time talking about the places I love on this blog. I do this because I like to share positive experiences and enthusiasm for foreign cultures and food, and I don’t think much of remembering the places that let me down.
Khon Kaen was, unfortunately, in the latter category. The Rough Guide to Thailand sold it to us as a cheerful, upbeat place, with plenty of street vendors north of our chosen hotel, a vibrant student community, and an abundance of dinosaur statues, commemorating Thailand’s largest fossils on display at Phuwiang National Park, within daytripping distance of the city.
Suffice to say that we found none of these things. Whereas the residents of Udon Thani were cheerful and welcoming, and the food ranged from excellent to amazing, Khon Kaen welcomed us with drawn faces and uninteresting food. We cut our stay short, and boarded the local train to Nakhon Ratchasima, also known as Khorat.
We bid an unrepenting goodbye to Khon Kaen and its lack of dinosaur statues. The local train ride was filled with chattering students on their way home, and we stopped at every village along the way to let them off after their day of school.
I received no dirt chip in the mouth this time around; things were looking up.
The Lady of Khorat
Nakhon Ratchasima, nicknamed Khorat, is Thailand’s second-largest city after Bangkok. You’d think that would make it an impersonal metropolis, but you’d be wrong. Away from the beach and the hill treks, there are few enough tourists coming here that many people will say hello to you as you walk down the streets. It’s easy to feel welcome here: the city even smells nice, with fragrant flowers filling the air with a jasmine-like fragrance.
The moat that used to surround the old Nakhon Ratchasima is still there, but the center itself has moved immediately west of the old city walls. There, the statue of Lady Ying Mo, the Heroine of Khorat, guards the city proudly. Pilgrims come here to honor the woman who helped defeat Vientiane insurgents in 1826; when she was captured alongside other citizens of Khorat, she organized a rebellion that secured the prisoners’ escape.
Ying Mo is a true feminist icon: one who is praised for her heroic acts and leadership, qualities too often reserved for men. On the fresco below the city wall, she is depicted with her hair short on the sides, looking lithe and commanding, slashing down her prisoners with two swords at once.
Happy New Year 2553!
Khorat proved so inviting that we decided to spend the new year here. This being Thailand, we would bid farewell to the year 2552. Near Lady Ying Mo stood a stage, around which numerous food stalls popped up, offering everything from fresh fruit juice to fried grasshopper. We grabbed a pad thai and some Isaan-style grilled chicken, and enjoyed the meaningless chatter of the people on stage, as they awaited midnight.
Near the center of town, Helene got her shoes repaired at a street-side shoemaker, and we chatted away with his friend. The ten words we had in common lasted us throughout the repair and beyond.
As the countdown (in Thai) came to zero, the city exploded in a show of fireworks, some of which were fired right next to us in the crowd. As we slowly retreated to our guesthouse, we soaked in the atmosphere of Khorat one last time: its upbeat feel, its energetic, happy and friendly people.
Two days later, we boarded the train to Ayutthaya. We exited Isaan in an air-conditioned train, the dirty windows blocking both the view of the countryside, as well as potential dirt chips. I’m not sure it was such a good deal.
In Isaan, we found people of amazing energy and friendliness, and all we had to trade for them were the hotel resorts and the tourists. Isaan proved, once again, that this is a trade that I will always be willing to make, and I look forward to coming back.
Where to Go
If you’re looking for a place to stay in Khorat, check out the Ban San Sabai, a fabulous guesthouse maintained with pride by its friendly owner. We paid $18 USD for a tastefully decorated, impeccably clean en-suite room with AC and a balcony, one of the best deals we’ve found in Thailand.
There are very few proper restaurants in Khorat, but street food can be found anywhere. In particular, the area immediately south of Ying Mo turns into a fantastic and immense bazaar at night, and you’ll find amazing takes on Isaan’s cuisine staples, including pork sausage, grilled chicken, som tam (spicy papaya salad) and a wide variety of sweets
Your mileage may vary on Khon Khaen, but try as I could, I did not find much in that city to call me back. If you’ve had a different experience, I would love to hear about it!
Thailand’s Northeast, Part 1: Vientiane to Udon Thani
January 13, 2010 | Location: Thailand | 4 Comments
There’s no beach. Very few bars. Foreigners are few and far between, and the locals barely speak English. The cities are big and noisy. In a lot of ways, Thailand’s northeastern region known as Isaan is the “real” Thailand, without makeup and fancy costumes.
We loved it. Of course.
Jogging by the Lake
Thailand’s poorest region still shocked us with modernity as we stepped off the bus from Laos. Bertrand, a French veteriniarian who works for ElefantAsia in Laos, described riding up the road alongside the Mekong on his way north. “You’re riding along a dirt road, and on the Thai side of the river, you see fancy SUVs going by on asphalt. It’s as unreal as a car commercial.”
Udon Thani’s friendliness surprised us next. Everywhere we walked, people smiled at us simply, eager to say hello. After the long walk to our guesthouse, we knew we were somewhere special, a Thai city where foreigners rarely ventured. One tuk-tuk driver saw us walk out of the train station one afternoon. “Welcome to Thailand!” he exclaimed with a grin. Oh, we felt welcomed alright!
Although the center of Udon Thani features the usual farang trappings of bars and foreign restaurants catering to retired expats, we found the heart of Udon in the west, near its large reservoir. In the evenings, Udon Thani residents gather there for open-air aerobics, or to jog or bike around the lake. In a superb show of business-savvy, massage stalls have popped up on the southeastern side of the artificial lake, catering to those who need a break after their run. Then, further north, a series of street stalls offer everything from fresh juices to Thai hot pot. The Thais enjoying the area seemed full of positive energy. Just strolling down the path, we felt buoyed by their spirits.
Forget Bacon!
Isaan offers a cuisine that is both Thai and Lao at once. Although Laos and Thailand share a lot of common history, the two countries have evolved separately in modern times: while Thailand prospered under the influx of foreign investment and tourism, Laos only recently emerged from its isolation, in a bid to escape crippling poverty.
Truth be told, it was easier to experience the food shared by Isaan and Laos here than in Vientiane, given that the Thais have the means to eat out, which is unfortunately not true of a majority of Lao. Street stalls and tiny restaurants thrive in Udon Thani, and you can even share the company of Thais when you sit down on a terrace for a laap (spicy meat salad) and a drink.
The most memorable item in Isaan’s food repertoire has to be its pork sausage, spicy, fat and slightly fermented, cooked right on the street. One will set you back 20B (65 cents US), and comes with fresh chili peppers, cabbage, and sometimes pickled ginger or raw garlic. You try the sausage, savoring the juicy pork, then bite on the chili, garlic or ginger to kick it up a notch. Too intense? Chew on some cabbage to cool down. This is the real, decadent expression of pork’s goodness.
Forget bacon!
Fusion Food
With one morning to go, Helene and I headed out early to the side of the reservoir, for one more Udon Thani specialty: kai khata.
Meaning literally “oeuf au plat”, the dish consists of an egg cooked in a small pan sunny side up, and sprinkled with a generous helping of Isaan sausage. A typical Thai dish, it incorporates influences from the French by way of Vietnamese immigrants to the region, and is best enjoyed with Vietnamese-style baguette, cooked on coals.
In other words, a true fusion dish, and not a five-star chef in sight.
We ate our breakfast merrily, enjoying the sun, and sipping our sweet Thai coffees, bidding farewell to the denizens of Udon Thani. It was time to board the local train to Khon Kaen.
Where to Go
The town of Udon Thani is conveniently located on the Bangkok-Nong Khai train line, and makes a pleasant stop on a trip from Bangkok to Vientiane. The train station is central, and a number of songthaews travel through the city, a ride costing 8-10B.
The reservoir is located west of the city center, and can be reached via songthaew. There’s a number of open-air restaurants on the northeastern side of the reservoir. Evening massage stalls and street stalls are found on the southeastern side. Early in the morning, these stalls disappear in favor of a few kai khata stalls.
The Backpack Foodie’s travel through Isaan continues in Thailand’s Northeast,Part 2: Udon Thani to Khorat
Welcome to Our Happy Place
November 26, 2009 | Location: Thailand | 5 Comments
We only meant to pass through for a couple of days. Helene yearned for the seaside, and I was keen on exploring the Thailand lying off the tourist trail. The train brought us to this town on a sunny afternoon, and two weeks later, we can’t bear the thought of leaving. You could say we’re in love.
We like this place so much, in fact, I’m not gonna divulge its name on this blog. (You’re welcome to ask me nicely in private, though.) Let’s just say it’s a couple hours away from Bangkok, on the coast by the seaside, and it lacks a bar scene and wide mastery of English, thus making it less desirable for tourists than Kho Samui or Phuket.
Welcome to our Happy Place.
Ocean with a View
In Happy Place, Thailand, the Ocean beats on the jetty to wake me up. On the first day, Helene and I felt endless wonder at this, but nowadays, Helene jokes that she’s getting fed up with the constant woosh-wooshing of the waves. It’s certainly inconvenient if you wake up and need to pee, but I can hardly complain.
By the terms of our trip, this represents a major splurge for us: at $25 USD/night, we enjoy a balcony on the sea, right off impeccably-clean rooms, with a fresh change of sheets and towels each day. (And yes, before you ask, my ecological conscience itches pretty hard.) Did I mention our toilets can flush, the sink doesn’t simply empty on your feet to a drain on the floor, and there’s hot water pressure in the shower? I know: mind-boggling.
Hill Tribe Beans
We make our first stop, usually around noon, in a tiny local café called Coco House. My mid-day jolt of caffeine consists of iced espresso: an espresso shot, mixed with condensed milk, and poured over a mountain of ice, Thai style. Helene, for her part, prefers the iced americano, whose only difference lies in the use of sugar instead of condensed milk. Both coffees are made with an espresso machine, and the beans are brought in from Chiang Mai in the north, where they’re grown by a Hmong hill tribe.
The Coco House became our favorite hangout spot in Happy Place due to its excellent coffee, and the warmth of its owner, Tchim, a gentle, smiling woman who just opened her café a week before we arrived. We also befriended the three year-old Nimoy, who insists on helping out whenever the adults prepare coffee for us. She’s easily the most adorable barista I’ve ever seen.
Bounty from the Sea
Right from our hotel balcony, we can spy the fishermen plying their trade at the bay’s mouth. A fishing vessel accosts the pier from time to time, and pick-up trucks rush to fill their backs with fresh catch, destined to local markets and restaurants. Two years of living in Alberta, and it’s the first time I can think of a reason to own a pick-up.
Fishing is a way of life in Happy Place. A walk along the seaside promenade will take you past various mackerels and shrimp left to dry in the sun. The sun-dried shrimp are ground into a paste, used enthusiastically in the local cuisine. The crabs you might see running along the beachfront below end up in som tam, Thailand’s spicy papaya salad.
When it comes to dinner, the few species caught by the fishing boats, or sometimes simply by a villager with a net, can be seen all over the beachfront restaurant menus. Crab, shrimp and squid constitute the staples, often complemented with a few larger catches: moonfish, grouper, butterfish, mackerel. No fish on the menu is garanteed, as its availability squarely depends on the boats’ luck in hauling them to shore. A few days of stormy weather, and your favorite fish is nowhere to be found.
Dinner on the Promenade
Once the sun sets on Happy Place, it’s time to enjoy all that the life in a small Thai seaside town has to offer. Although the night market and a few other restaurants offered us great memories, none made us return with such enthusiasm as restaurant Demer.
Demer, a small, family-run restaurant on the promenade, consists of a simple, rustic roof, separated from an open-air kitchen by a wall. Like its competitors, Demer offers mostly seafood dishes, ranging from $1 USD for the Thai staples such as crab som tam, to $7 for a fresh whole grouper, deep-fried and served with a handmade sweet and sour sauce. Add $5, and you’ve got yourself a bucket of ice, bottles of soda water, and a bottle of Sang Som Thai whiskey.
We spent leasurely hours at Demer, savoring the seafood and everything from tom ka (spicy coconut soup) to pad thai (Thai fried noodles). Helene has befriended the restaurant’s cat with offerings of shrimp tails. For my part, I exchanged smiles and raised glasses with East Asia’s friendliest group of bikers, whose Harley-Davidsons clash with their preference for Whitney Houston and Thai crooners.
The Call of Cuttlefish
Then, the sound of a squeaking wheel makes me drool with the eagerness of Pavlov’s dog. The sound comes from a street cart, which a white-capped, gentle-mannered Thai man pushes up and down the promenade. Hung to dry with color-coded clothing pins are magnificent dried cuttlefish, which the man grills over charcoal and presses repeatedly with the turn of a crank. Served hot and with a spicy, sweet, peanuty sauce, it’s a real steal at $0.80 per cuttlefish, easily the best I’ve ever had.
On calm evenings, green lights dot the horizon beyond the man’s pushcart: these belong to small boats fishing for cuttlefish, who are drawn to the colored spot. Straight from the ocean, they are sold in the market behind our hotel, dried in the sun that bakes my skin, and grilled on the curb by a man who sells it to me with a warm smile.
It’s easy to take roots in a place like this.
A Time and a Place
Time, alas, marches on, especially when you want it to stop.
Two weeks after arriving in Happy Place, we had to leave it again lest we overextend our Thai visas. We paid one last visit to Coco House, where we were treated to a poignant farewell by our new-found friends.
Tchim gave us two photographs as a souvenir. The first one depicts the King and Queen of Thailand, an auspicious and significant gift considering the love of the Thai for their sovereign. On the second, a younger Tchim smiles for the camera. Tchim took the time to write a long message in English, all the more heartfelt and poignant for the effort it must have taken her, expressing her friendship and fondness in a language she can barely speak.
Back in Bangkok, the thought of other Happy Places that keeps me sane. In Happy Place, we found the first reward of travelling slow: we stumbled upon a place where we can be content to while the night away, learning rudiments of Thai in small cafés and restaurants.
What defined this experience for us is both a place, but also a time. Things change fast the world over, including ourselves. Perhaps we will come back here, a few weeks or a few years from now. With luck, we will enjoy Coco House’s espresso again, or share some of our shrimp with Demer’s cat. But like many places before it in Thailand, the vanguard of foreign tourism has already begun its incursion: retired Europeans, led by their young Thai wives, have made their way here, and they’re hungry for fish and chips.
It’s, sadly, entirely possible that in a few years, we will barely recognize our favorite spot under the concrete of a beach resort. I can only hope these changes leave our favorite business owners and their employees rich, and content in their life.
Where to Go
“Secret” places are hard to find, especially in tourist-heavy countries like Thailand. I’ve discovered a few through my travels by looking for places described by guidebooks as ‘uninteresting’, which has led me to places without tourist trappings but with plenty of local character. You should determine what you really want out of a travel experience, and take a chance to step out of the guidebook: at the least, you’ll be treated to a slice of life you rarely get to experience in tourist-heavy areas.
As with food, the locals are usually a great source of information on travel destinations. They tend to go to places where fewer tourists go, and get to enjoy lower prices and more authentic food. The downside is a lack of tourist facilities, less English spoken, and poorer bar scenes: and if you’re like me, that’s actually all positives.
Bangkok at Street Level
November 11, 2009 | Location: Thailand | 2 Comments
You can tell Bangkok is a food city long before you take a single bite.
Food is everywhere in the Thai metropolis. It’s in malls and food courts, providing students with a place to hang out. It’s in fancy cafés, where the Thai elite enjoy a hip dining atmosphere. But it’s mostly in the streets, everywhere you look, at every hour of the day. Tiny kitchens spill out onto the sidewalk, and pushcarts offer quick meals that fill the roads with smells of roasted pork, boiling noodles, fresh lemongrass and eye-watering spices.
Yet despite its reputation as one of the finest cuisines in the world, very few travelers get to enjoy Thailand’s food at street level. It’s sad to witness the backpackers flooding the English-speaking stalls of Thanon Khao San, ordering toned down, unimaginative takes on Thai street food, seemingly afraid to venture beyond the tourist ghetto.
Good thing I’m not one of them!
The Beat of a Different Crowd
A mere five minutes outside the Khao San area, young Thais on the lookout for a decent meal quickly replace wandering tourists. Here, your dishes come with the omnipresent Thai condiments of roasted chilli flakes, spicy vinegar, sugar and fermented fish sauce. A hearty meal sets you back thirty bahts, less than one US dollar. Look out for packed open-air restaurants or street stalls, and they’ll reward you with fiery, delicious thrills.
Helene and I found such a place on our first foray outside the backpacker area, following the flow of young Thais celebrating Loi Krathong by setting off paper hot-air balloons into the Bangkok sky. Many of them packed a cramped open-air restaurant, whose tiny kitchen at the entrance was manned by four women whose hands blurred with the speed of experience. We inched our way in, and sat at the long table.
Navigating the menu couldn’t have been any easier: you got one dish and one dish only, and it came in either small or large. The dish in this case was a thick, peppery broth filled with fresh rice noodles and slices of pork and fish balls. It was better than good: it made my mind wander with awe, pondering how something so simple could be executed with such perfection and finesse.
When one of the girls put down a fresh pot of chilli flakes before me, the nutty, roasted smell overtook my reason; an instant later I was sweating profusely under the onslaught of Thai pepper.
We ate scanning the reviews – all in Thai – that hung on the walls. We had lucked out: this place was good enough for the locals to seek it out and rave about it in newspapers. We finished our soup, and the moment we left our plastic seats, they were filled by a new pair of customers.
Crossing the Bridge
The next evening, our quest for fresh food took us further from the backpacker ghetto, to Victory Monument, where a night market – an evening collection of small street stalls – lured us from the skytrain above.
Deciding where to eat in Thailand is a tortuous process. Food is everywhere, and very rarely does it smell anything but absolutely fresh. What’s more, the variety is staggering: what we call ‘Thai food’ in the West is but a small subset of the spectrum on offer, from Chinese-inspired noodles and curries, to the fermented pork sausage of Thailand’s Isan province. The only constants are freshness, and an execution that is beautiful in its simplicity. Stop and watch a street hawker as they prepare their signature dish: they have been plying their trade for so long, their technique would awe a five-star chef.
We found a street stall with tables sprawled over a bridge crossing one of the city’s many waterways. The place was packed, and we had to hustle to secure a spot. We gestured ‘two’, knowing what would come would be good, whatever it turned out to be. We were rewarded with noodles in a thick curry sauce, and a mountain of fresh herbs to go with it.
A City of Foodies
These are but two of the legion of small, efficient, delicious street kitchens and open-air restaurants that Bangkok has to offer. Even after living in China for three years, I am amazed at how much fresh food the Thais enjoy at every opportunity.
I could tell you how to find these two specific restaurants, but… that would miss the point. This is not about one spot, one vendor that is worth a visit; the entire city of Bangkok is worth it. If you find yourself in the capital of Thailand, resist the cheap lures of the backpacker district, or the illusory comfort of upscale, English-speaking restaurants. Head out deep into the alleyways and the side-streets.
Bangkok rewards a healthy appetite and a spirit of exploration.
Tips on Eating Street Food
Invariably, when I talk about street food, I get asked how I avoid an upset stomach. Some guides will tell you to only eat in five-star restaurants, but at that point you might as well stay home and order pizza. Truth is, I almost always eat at small restaurants or street stalls, and besides a very rare upset stomach, I never get sick from food.
Thailand is pretty safe in terms of food hygiene, so it’s a good place to start exploring the streets and work up an appetite. Here are some simple advice:
- Always favor restaurants that are packed with locals. They know good food in their own city much better than you. Pick a popular spot and you’ll never go wrong.
- Try and order what the majority of the patrons are eating. Don’t go for something exotic, such as a Western dish no one knows how to make.
- Don’t be afraid to step a little bit out of your comfort zone. Keep trusting your instincts, but make sure you stretch them gradually. Don’t push yourself too hard!
- Most upset stomachs are caused by unfamiliar ingredients or spices, such as particular chilli pepper. Work up a resistance gradually.
- Don’t be afraid to walk away from a restaurant if you feel it’s not clean or not particularly good. More often than not, you are probably right.
- At the same time, realize that your host country doesn’t have the same standards of cleanliness as yours does. Observe the kitchen, and pay attention to the ways they keep the food clean even if they’re not wearing a hairnet or hosing down the kitchen every hour.
- The best way to make yourself sick from food is by worrying about what you’re eating. Above all, enjoy the experience!
