Thailand

I don’t think there was one aha! moment where I transformed from a picky eater to a more open one, but travel certainly expedited the transition. Over time, I found that new worlds opened up to me when I tried unfamiliar foods and that food was often an entryway into the history and psyche of a place.

Southeast Asia came at the right time in my food awakening and my newfound appreciation for Southeast Asian cuisine played a role in picking it as a destination. While I looped my way around the region, I didn’t strive to be Andrew Zimmern, but I made a concerted effort to be more adventurous with my meals. Of course, I could never get enough pad thai, but the foods that lingered on my taste buds long after my trip was over were the ones with new and unfamiliar flavors:

Durian and Assorted Fruit

I tried durian on my second night in Bangkok. After all the stories I’d heard about it, I didn’t think it was bad at all. It didn’t smell foul and it had a nutty and buttery flavor. It seems that Thai people prefer to eat their durian at a less ripe stage, so perhaps the one I tried was milder and less offensive. But I think durian is like cilantro— some people think it tastes repulsive like soap and others can’t imagine life without it. Beyond durian, any time I ordered a side of unspecified fruit, it was an adventure. Some of the new fruits I tried included longan, rambutan, sapodilla, and dragon fruit.

Amok in Siem Reap, Cambodia

Amok is fish mousse and that may not sound very appetizing, but it was one of the most delicious things I ate in Southeast Asia. For this dish, fish is mixed with coconut cream and spices and then steamed inside a banana leaf. The end result is a wonderful surprise; it’s delicate, full of flavor, and the coconut adds a wonderful creaminess that pairs well with the fish.

Cambodian BBQ in Siem Reap, Cambodia

The Cambodian BBQ has undertones of gimmickiness, but nevertheless, it’s a great place to sample meats you would not otherwise try. On a menu that also included snake and kangaroo, we chose crocodile and ostrich. As a backup, we also ordered chicken. Uncooked meat was brought to us in containers with a little picture of the animal so we would know what it was. We barbecued the meat ourselves on a dome-shaped contraption that had boiling broth at its base. We added noodles and veggies to the soup along with with the meat to complete our meal. In the end we loved the crocodile which tasted like a combination of chicken and fish and the ostrich which had a flavor akin to beef cooked in red wine. The chicken ended up being everyone’s least favorite because it tasted so boring compared to the other two.

Cao Lau in Hoi An

On my first day in Hoi An, I noticed that the menus had a few dishes I hadn’t seen in Southern Vietnam. I decided to try cao lau, a local specialty. It’s a noodle soup with a five spice flavored broth, pork, and greens and it’s topped off with bits of crispy fried dough. In Vietnam, I’d felt that flavors were muted and the eater was often expected to add his or her own spice, but this was flavorful and thoroughly enjoyable without having to dump a lot of chili sauce in it. Much of Hoi An’s unique vibe comes from its history as trading port, and the amalgamation of cultural influences in this soup make it a fitting dish for the city.

Lao Coffee in Luang Prabang, Laos

By the time I arrived in Laos, I had accepted the fact that I’d most likely find a pool of sweetened condensed milk at the bottom of my coffee as long as I was in Southeast Asia. But Laos was where I finally learned to enjoy it. In Laos, the coffee itself tasted different, it was thick and rustic. It made sense in the setting and Lao coffee kind of charms people in the same way that Laos does. Some of my fondest memories in Luang Prabang are of sitting on the sidewalk, drinking Lao coffee from a little glass cup, and chatting with locals and fellow travelers.

Khao Soi in Chang Mai, Thailand

When I arrived at a street food plaza in Chiang Mai, I was hungry and didn’t know what anything was, so I just pointed at a random dish on the menu. What I got turned out to be one of the top meals of my life. It took a lot of Googling when I got home to figure out what it was, but eventually I learned that it was called khao soi, a dish that is rarely on the menu at Thai restaurants in the States. It’s a noodle soup with a coconut curry broth and my bowl that night was served with shrimp and just the right amount of spice. Years later, I can still picture myself smiling widely as I slurped down that delicious soup at the night market.

Thai Wonton Soup in Chiang Mai and Bangkok, Thailand

I’ve had wonton soup countless times at Chinese restaurants, but I was blown away by the Thai version. I tried it at street food stalls in both Chiang Mai and Bangkok and couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was different about the broth, but it was very, very tasty.

Non-profit restaurants run by local youth

Throughout Southeast Asia, there are several inviting restaurants that are operated by non-profit organizations which train and employ underserved youth or benefit the local community in some way. I enjoyed fresh salads, curries, my very first bahn mi sandwich, and many more tasty meals at these spots:

- Romdeng in Phnom Pehn, Cambodia
- Friends in Phnom Pehn, Cambodia
- Sozo in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam
- Baguette & Chocolat in Hanoi, Vietnam
- Organic Farm Cafe in Vang Vieng, Laos

 

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“To awaken quite alone in a strange town is one of the pleasantest sensations in the world. You are surrounded by adventure. You have no idea of what is in store for you, but you will, if you are wise and know the art of travel, let yourself go on the stream of the unknown and accept whatever comes in the spirit in which the gods may offer it.”
– Freya Stark

Though I would eventually join a group, Bangkok is the first place I arrived completely alone. Looking back at that first day, being my myself wasn’t the focus, nor was the focus on the absence of anything or anyone I knew. Once I was there, my pre-trip jitters were entirely replaced with excitement about how much there was to see and how many people there were to meet.

Not long after I settled into my room, I headed to Khao San Road after getting directions from the hotel staff. I was disoriented almost as soon as I rounded the corner. I saw some foreigners who looked confident about where they were going and asked them for help. They were a couple from Sweden and they pointed me in the right direction, but as we began to chat, they invited me to visit a temple with them and then offered to take me to Khao San Road afterward. I took them up on this, and as they had spent some time in Southeast Asia, they had loads of great advice for me as we wandered the city together. I was amazed at how quickly a solitary afternoon had turned into a social one and how natural it felt to spend a few hours exploring with people I’d just met.

The following morning at the Grand Palace, a flamboyant young Filipino man saw me looking confused as I waited in line to rent a sarong, and he came over to explain the process to me. Once I was in the palace, I bumped into him again. He was an English teacher who’d been living in Thailand for four years. He introduced me to his female friend who was also a Filipino English in Thailand and a male friend from South Korea who they had just met while they were waiting in line to get into the palace. The Filipino guy had been to the palace a few times before, so he turned out to be an excellent guide for the day. We laughed a lot, had a great time, and as we left the palace, they invited me to continue hanging out with them. As much as I was enjoying their company, I had to decline because I had plans for the afternoon.

A few hours later, I was hanging out with a Bangkok local I’d made arrangements to meet up with through a travel networking site I was active on at the time. We took a boat to the other side of the Chao Praya River and visited a Buddhist temple that seemed so far away from the touristy areas I’d seen. We took our shoes off as we entered the temple filled praying worshipers. Outside, worshipers left offerings and rang bells for good luck. From there, we went to a shopping center that looked like a Westernized mall at first glance, but I noticed that the prices were not set. You could barter for anything. We ate an ice cream-like treat of shaved ice with sweetened condensed milk and strawberries and talked about travel and politics and everyday life in Bangkok. It felt simultaneously surreal and like no big deal to be spending a normal Bangkok day with a local about 28 hours or so after I arrived.

Later that night, I met my fantastic roommate, an Indian-Brit who was my age and a ton of fun. A solid friendship began as we shared our expertise on the process of overpacking  and compared the sizes of our backpacks. My first foray into solo travel officially ended when we joined our loosely guided tour group, but those first 30 or so hours alone were a key part of understanding that fully traveling solo was something I could do and wanted to do in the future. And central to that realization was experiencing how traveling solo doesn’t have to mean being alone, there are potential friends everywhere; for an afternoon, for a week, for a lifetime.

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On my walk to the Grand Palace, I wander through narrow neighborhood streets, enjoying the stillness and relative coolness of the early morning while it lasts. The awakening streets are lined with shops selling an array of used goods and food vendors are setting up their stands for the day. At busy intersections, I hesitate and then quickly learn the method of crossing the street when a local crosses and walking alongside them. When I see an ornate elephant statue in a roundabout and gold spires in the distance, I know I am close to the palace.

Just before I get to the entrance, a tuk tuk driver tells me that the palace is not open today. For a split second, I am disappointed. Then I remember what I’d read about drivers telling tourists the palace is closed and then luring them into jewelry scams or leading them astray in some other way. I tell him I’ll check it out anyway and keep on walking. Sure enough, it’s just about to open and there are already throngs of tourists there, waiting to get in. I join the line.

I walk around the golden and bedazzled palace as it shimmers in the haze-filtered Bangkok sun. I am surrounded by impossible details, overwhelming extravagance, and I feel pulled in all directions at once to take a closer look at the abundant ornamentation. Mythical figures stand guard with unintentionally comical menacing looks, and later, I see the ceremonial Royal Guards marching across the grounds. I make new friends. We take lots of pictures, sometimes smiling normally, sometimes with cheesy poses.

When I am ready to leave the Grand Palace, I continue walking and come across a market. I order my first Pad Thai of the trip from a street food vendor. It doesn’t look as pretty as the Pad Thais I’ve had at home, but it’s even more delicious. Later, I float down the Chao Phraya River and get one last glimpse of the Grand Palace’s glittering grandeur, then it’s time move on and explore everyday Bangkok.

Elephant near the Grand Palace in Bangkok, Thailand

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Author’s note: I am not currently in Southeast Asia and I’m not planning on traveling in the region any time soon. I visited Southeast Asia in 2008 and recorded my stories from that trip on another site before I started blogging independently. I’m rewriting and sharing my favorite stories here.

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