Cambodia: Tasting Tarantulas

Vacations & Travel - Summer 2002/2003

While Cambodia struggles with poverty, brought about by years of war, it is also stepping onto the mainstream tourist stage. The main drawcard is the amazing, inspirational Angkor Wat but a less well-known attraction is the food – an integral part of Khmer culture. The rich yet charmingly naïve carvings on Angkor’s Bayon Temple provide a glimpse into the daily life of the Khmer people during the 12th and 13th centuries. The massive stone temple and its 54 towers adorned with colossal heads was the centre of King Jayavarman’s walled city of Angkor. Among the scenes depicted on the south wall are a busy restaurant, people in Chinese dress cooking a deer, hunting, fishing and food being prepared and enjoyed. Many of the utensils and cooking techniques can still be found in Cambodian homes today.

As I struggle to take in the enormity of the ruins in the oppressive heat, two small boys playing in a pond in front of the temple catch fish and baby crab for lunch, completely oblivious to the fact that their playground is a World Heritage site. The scene is in stark contrast to the dark days of the late 1970s when Pol Pot and his Khmer Rouge went on their murderous spree, slaughtering two million people and ravaging the country. During this time, finding food was a matter of survival. Subsequent occupation by Vietnam and more than a decade of war between Cambodia’s political factions did little to lessen the poverty.

Despite the relative political stability of the past few years, it is still a grim picture that awaits visitors, confronted at every turn by persistent beggars, many of them amputees or horribly disfigured from landmines. It seems almost flippant talking about Cambodian cuisine under such circumstances, yet food is an integral part of the Khmer culture, a proud culture that needs to draw on all that is good about the past to get on with the future. From 1992 to 1996, the area around the Banteay Srei Temple recorded the country’s highest number of injuries from landmines, and while many landmines remain throughout Cambodia, access to this beautiful temple is now said to be safe. Amongst the inevitable hawkers outside this "citadel of women" – so named because its exquisite carvings suggest a patience only women could possess – a young girl rests a cane basket on her hip. It is filled with ripe lotus seeds that are dried and boiled to make sweets and desserts.

The road from Angkor to Banteay Srei passes through the village of Phoum Pradak, used as a location for the movie, The Killing Fields. Its wooden houses on stilts present a picture that has changed little from the time when the Angkor kingdom reigned supreme, 802 AD to 1350 AD. Today, the village survives almost entirely on its sales of palm sugar. Like the cuisines around it, Khmer cooking draws on this distinctively aromatic sugar as one of many exciting flavours, though unlike Vietnamese cooking which tends to favour caramelized dishes, in Cambodia the sweetness is often offset with sour. A light, delicate, healthy cuisine, it is similar to Thai, though not as spicy. Salads are spiced with lemongrass, mint leaves and coriander, similar to the Lao and Thai style.

The key to the exotic flavours and aromas of Khmer cuisine is the kroeung (or herb paste) made from lemongrass, galangal, rhizome, turmeric, zest of kaffir lime, garlic and shallots. These basic ingredients are supplemented by others such as dried red chillies, kapi (shrimp paste), prahok (fermented fish) and roasted peanuts. Cambodia’s cuisine has been influenced over many centuries by India, China and neighbouring countries. The steamed, spiced chicken or fish dish, amok, appears in much the same form in Cambodia, Laos and Thailand but probably had its origins as a Khmer dish. As in Vietnam, raw salads and vegetables are common. The French colonized the country from 1863 to 1953, leaving their stamp on the food too. French bread is found everywhere, and meat and salad baguettes are popular.

Khmer cooking differs from other south-east Asian cuisines in its careful use of chillies. In only a few dishes are chillies cooked with other ingredients. More commonly, they are served on the side so you can add as little or as much as you like. Most cooked dishes are either steamed or stir-fried, and noodles are common. Khao phoune, fine noodles in a coconut milk, are a particular favourite. Rice is highly revered. One of its Khmer names, preah me, translates as august mother, symbolizing life. Featured in songs, dances and plays, it is thought to have been the pillar of economic power in the Angkor empire, and it now offers hope for a prosperous future.

A typical khmer meal consists of soup, salad, a fish dish, vegetables and rice, followed by dessert based on fresh fruits and sticky rice. This was the format of our set-menu lunch at the Angkor Café, directly opposite the magnificent Angkor Wat. Run by Les Aritsans d’Angkor, a project funded by the European Union to train young Cambodians in traditional skills, the restaurant is combined with a craft showroom selling high-quality work. Open daily from 8am to 7pm, it is clean, stylish and blissfully cool. Our meal began with a sour soup made with fish, tamarind, local herbs and morning glory, a green stringy vegetable that is widely used in Vietnam and Cambodia. It was followed by delicious amok fish cooked with tomatoes in coconut milk and lemongrass.

Chicken sautéed with mushrooms, capsicum and herbs came next, along with sauteed cabbage, potatoes, carrots and more of the ubiquitous morning glory. We were advised that all the vegetables were cleaned with pure water, and that ice in the drinks was safe to consume. At $US2.50, my tropical fruit shake was a luxury in a country where many people earn less than this in a day. However, the refreshing blend of coconut milk, pineapple, banana, watermelon and carrot hit the right spot on a hot day. The American dollar is almost as much the local currency as the riel, and visitors pay relatively high prices considering the poverty. Think of it as a contribution. Wine, as in most of Asia, is expensive. More economical is the local beer, Angkor, a satisfying thirst quencher after a long day sightseeing.

Siem Reap, the town closest to the Angkor temples, afforded another good meal at the Bayon II, a large and busy restaurant built around a courtyard set up with stalls providing a smorgasbord of delights from Cambodia and the region. Dancers in traditional dress perform colourful numbers as guests dine on local delicacies. One young lady assembled green papaya salad, while another took boiled rice powder and transformed it into nom krurc, friand-sized buns served with a mix of coconut milk and sweet chilli sauce. The amok fish here was not as soupy as at the Angkor Café, but rather a firmer mixture set in banana leaf ‘cups’. Desserts were especially good, and mostly consisted of fruits and vegetables floating in coconut milk. One was made from sweet corn, another from melon, and yet another from “grass” jelly.

Another balmy evening provided the backdrop for a buffet dinner at the Sofitel Royal Angkor, a truly beautiful hotel which opened in October 2000. Located a short drive from the entrance to the Angkor temples, its Khmer-inspired architecture and lush tropical gardens are a haven for weary travellers. Its Mouhot’s Dream restaurant serves French food in a romantic art deco setting, while The Citadel serves western and Asian cuisine in a bright, airy space with a Khmer feel. The delightful Serpent Bar and pool area was the setting for our buffet, starting with cold dishes such as deep-fried sticky rice with soy sauce, dried beef with pickles and Khmer pate (there’s that French influence). Hot dishes included fish cakes, minced prawn on sugar cane sticks, beef rolls with pork fat and curry paste, and deep-fried frog legs.

Frogs are an important source of protein in the Cambodian countryside, often a substitute for chicken. Fish, however, is the mainstay of the diet, thanks to the Tonle Sap (Great Lake) and the Mekong River which flows from northern Cambodia right through to the south where it splits into two arms and becomes the Mekong Delta in Vietnam. At 160km long and 36km wide, the Tonle Sap is a geographical wonder. Its extraordinary biodiversity provides an abundance of fish, with about 850 freshwater species recorded. The fish is eaten fresh, fermented into a pungent-smelling fish paste (prahok), smoked, dried and made into fish sauce (tik trei), distilled with coarse salt in huge wooden basins in much the same way it has been for centuries.

During the monsoon season (May to November), the Tonle Sap river reverses direction, flooding the lake and increasing its size tenfold. Water engulfs the surrounding countryside, covering it with fresh fertile silt, perfect for rice cultivation. At Choang Khneans, a village of floating homes close to where the “fast boat” from Phnom Penh deposits visitors for Siem Reap and the Angkor temples, the locals earn their income from making fish sauce. Our guide informed us they make three grades: the best with no bones, the second best containing bones and, lastly, that which is “only good for fish to eat”. On the lake itself, houseboats occupied mainly by Vietnamese fishing families provide endless photo opportunities for travelers undertaking the 240km boat trip between Siem Reap and the capital, Phnom Penh.

Countless of the world’s cuisines can be found in Phnom Penh, particularly since the signing of a peace agreement and the arrival of United Nations personnel in 1991. This, along with the accompanying influx of foreign journalists, has resulted in more and more international foods making their way onto local menus. The Foreign Correspondents Club is a classic, three-storey French colonial building with hotel guest rooms, a restaurant and two bars with loads of ambience and water views. Further along the waterfront, in an area booming with restaurants, we dined at the Pun Loc, said to be one of the best Khmer restaurants in town. Our buffet meal was unremarkable, although the sticky rice parcels of fruit were a highlight and the ambience was pleasant. Flower petals were scattered over the tables on the second storey terrace, the breeze catching their delightful scent. It was a picture of tranquility after a distressing afternoon spent touring the Choeung Ek killing fields and the Tuol Sleng Prison Museum, both gruesome reminders of the Pol Pot regime.

Another welcome respite was seeing the locals enjoy the waterfront promenade opposite the Royal Palace. Children played and families socialized while vendors plied their wares including chicken embryo eggs, nuts, sour mango and insects. Fancy roast grasshoppers (12 for $US1)? Or perhaps deep-fried beetles at 3 for 10 cents are more to your liking? And hey, the spiders at 50 cents each are said to be a great aphrodisiac. The biggest and, to many foreigners, most shocking of the insects eaten is the tarantula. At the central market in Phnom Penh, with its faded yellow dome-shaped roof, deep-fried tarantula is served with a little salt or live ones can be bought to cook at home. The best spiders are said to come from Skuon, 60km away, an otherwise impoverished farming region where enterprising families now earn a tidy income.

Desperate Cambodians discovered spiders during the Khmer Rouge era, but they have now become a national delicacy. Crickets have been part of the Cambodian diet for a long time and there are many ways to cook them. Some of the recipes are quite sophisticated such as stuffed with peanuts and coconut, then fried in butter. My guide book tells me marijuana is sometimes used in chicken dishes or on top of pizzas in Phnom Penh restaurants. These, and the creepy crawlies, will have to wait for another day.

* Christine Salins toured Cambodia with Peregrine. Details of their tours can be found at 1300 854 444 or www.peregrineadventures.com

© Christine Salins

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