It is unfortunate that this book should be subtitled
"Lao/Thai Recipes," implying that there is a general
commonality between Lao and Thai (Central
Thai/Siamese) cuisine,
which there is not. To be sure, there are certain
individual dishes that can be characterized as
Lao/Siamese because they are featured in both cuisines
and their origins are obscure--they probably date back
many centuries if not millennia. The
Siamese Tom Yum Kung for example is none other than a
substitution of shrimp for chicken (or catfish) in Lao
chicken (or catfish) soup (a recipe appears in Taste
of Laos, p. 45), while the Siamese Ho Mok is simply
Lao Mok (a recipe on p. 90) with the addition of
coconut milk and curry powder.
As for examples of
common desserts, both the Lao and Siamese eat mango
with sweetened sticky rice (p. 119), custard in a
pumpkin (p. 118), and rice and banana steamed in
banana leaves (Khao Tom, p. 121). The Siamese,
however, eat prepared sweets in greater frequency and
quantity than the Lao, who generally prefer fresh
fruit. Partly for this reason, the Siamese dessert
repertory exceeds that of the Lao in terms of its
variety and development.
The greater Siamese affinity for sweets is one
difference in eating preferences between them and the
Lao. There are quite a few. The Siamese
have a predilection for heavy spices (namely curries)
and herbs
(particularly "Thai" basil) and rich dishes--many
based on coconut
milk/cream, with the result that Siamese dishes are
often very fragrant, oily, and liquid. This is
incompatible with the Lao
palate. In general, the Lao eschew the use of
coconut in savory dishes, and the curries so popular
in Siam never made
an impression on Lao cuisine, despite more than a
century (late
18th--late19th century) of Siamese political
domination. Which is also one reason why traditional
French food,
with its heavy dishes and
creamy sauces, based on flour, cream and butter (not
to mention it's
complex batterie de cuisine), never took hold, despite
half a century
of
French rule.
The Lao palate is accustomed to grilled or steamed
foods--with relatively simple flavorings, and fresh,
uncooked
vegetables. Lao cuisine, which is very healthful,
uses a relatively small variety of
herbs and spices, with a particular and distinctive
emphasis on garlic
and galanga (not ginger, as has been asserted
elsewhere).
Hence the author's suggestions that the Lao eat
curries is nonsense.
Having said that the Lao like their food simple and
light, lean
and green, besides differences in taste, there is a
more practical reason that the Lao do not eat Siamese
food, despite living next door to the homeland of one
of the most popular Asian cuisines in North America.
Daovone mentions the Lao preference for sticky
rice--which admittedly is an issue of taste, and by
now everyone should know (of course they don't) that
the Lao are the one people in the entire world who eat
sticky rice as a staple. All traditional Lao foods
then were developed by people who knew that the dish
would be accompanied by sticky rice, which is eaten
out of a woven basket, with fingers. Hence to keep
the fingers clean and rice out of the various dishes,
the dishes could not be wet or oily.
Siamese food, because of the ubiquitous coconut milk
and oily curries, is too soupy for sticky rice.
Though if you're using a spoon, it is
perfect for regular white rice, which absorbs the
broth and picks up the flavor.
Most of the rural Lao population, which is most of the
country's population, still eat sticky rice
exclusively. The urban population eats both sticky
rice and white
rice, depending on the dishes they are to accompany.
Lao dishes would
call for sticky rice, while foreign dishes, such as
Chinese-style stir fries (which are popular), or Thai
curry dishes (which are not popular) would be
accompanied by regular white rice.
While the Lao use
their fingers to
eat sticky rice (the consistency of the rice makes it
impossible to do it
any other way), they would never use their fingers, as
the Siamese and
Indians traditionally do, to eat white rice. Neither,
however, do they use
chopsticks as their Chinese and Vietnamese neighbors
(some) do. Chopsticks
are reserved for noodles. For white rice, the Lao use
spoons.
At times, it seems the author can't decide whether
she's writing a Lao cookbook or a Siamese one. Why is
Tam Mak Hung (Green Papaya Salad)
called Som Tum in the Siamese manner? While this
offense was one in
name
only, the author gives a recipe for Phad Thai, but
describes it as "Koa
Mee[Khua My] or Pad Thai," as though they were one and
the same
thing. In truth,
they
are quite different--the most obvious differences
being that Khua My
generally calls for beef (rather than the shrimp or
chicken typically
found in Pad Thai), dark soy sauce (rather than fish
sauce) and
caramelized sugar (rather than sugar added directly to
the noodles).
Taste of Laos is written by a cook--and proprietor of
a Lao/Thai restaurant,
not a gastronome or sociologist, and hence everything
said about Lao
cuisine or culture must be taken with plenty of salt,
or padaek, for which unfortunately there is no
recipe or discussion, except by food guru and one-time
ambassador to Laos Alan Davidson in the book's
preface.
Neither is there a discussion of Lao cooking methods
or equipment. The authors instructions for steaming
sticky rice are not likely to lead to good results,
because they are very vague and steaming sticky rice
requires a little more effort than making white rice.
To make the process easier, the Lao invented a special
steaming basket and pot, but there is no mention of
this apparatus in the cookbook. Nor is there a
mention of the deep Lao-style mortar and pestle that
is required for a proper Green Papaya Salad (Tam Mak
Hung in Lao/ Som Tum in Siamese). The Lao mortar and
pestle is indispensable in the Lao kitchen, and can be
had for $10 at most Lao, Thai or Vietnamese grocery
stores.
Throughout the book, Daovone tries to suggest that Lao
and Siamese eat the same food, which is not true. I
have already
mentioned how much Siamese food the Lao eat. How much
Lao food the Siamese eat is another question. Let it
suffice to say that there are a lot more Isan (Lao)
restaurants in Bangkok than there are Siamese
restaurants in Isan (the ethnic Lao region of
Thailand), and that "Som Tum" and "Larb"
have become standards on Thai menus everywhere.
The author's assertion that the Lao have ever been
vegetarian ("In the past, most
Lao became vegetarians purely for religious reasons.")
is ridiculous.
Buddhism has rarely exerted a didactic influence on
the Lao, and certainly never in this regard.
Historical records show that monks themselves in
particular consumed all kinds of meats, sweets and
delicacies with gusto.
Taste of Laos should have more accurately been
subtitled, "Lao and Thai Recipes,"
because it contains both Lao and Thai recipes from the
proprietor of
the popular Dara Restaurant in Berkeley, which as a
disclaimer I have to
say that I have never been to. As one of only three
cookbooks in the English language devoted to Lao
cuisine, it is obviously of great worth. It is,
however, far from comprehensive and not representative
of what most Lao people eat. It is probably not an
exaggeration to say that in Laos, the cuisine of
Vietnam
is twenty times as popular as that of Siam. Light and
fresh Southern
Vietnamese cuisine, which presumably descended from
the people known as Cham, is much more in tune with
the Lao palate.
Daovone would have done better justice by including
those Vietnamese and Vietnamese-inspired dishes that
are so popular in Laos. Though since Dara is a
Lao/Thai restaurant, I can understand why Vietnamese
recipes have been excluded. Nevertheless, I was
disappointed to not find even one Khao Poun dish, and
even more disappointed that there is no recipe for Lao
sausages (Sai Oua).
That Daovone is from Xieng Khouang (famous for its
Plain of Jars) contributes to the book's value. Lao
cuisine often has many regional variations,
and Taste of Laos has recorded permanently the Xieng
Khouang variations of certain dishes. Also, though
Daovone neglects many classic Lao dishes, she
introduces a number of new dishes and new sauces,
many of which are her own creation. The
Vientiane Mango Fool (p.123), for example, is nothing
I have ever even heard of, and the Catfish Salad
("Laap Pa Duk"
p. 57) is nothing like your typical Goy/Laap.
This book is a keeper. Don't be put off by its ugly
cover or the unorthodox Romanization of Lao dish
names; get a copy of this cookbook. Who knows when
you might find yourself far from a Lao grocery store
and having to make your own Sour Pork Sausages (Som
Mou, p.30)?