I was born in 1964 in Nasamor, a small rural village in the Ratchaburi province in central Thailand. Most of the people in my hometown were extended family on my mother’s side, and were of Laos ethnic background, speaking Lao and practising Thai-Lao culture. Many of the old-style houses were made from lathed bamboo, although some families had solid teak houses. My family was poor, but my father had worked in logging when he was young, and he’d collected enough timber over the years to build our own small teak house. Although life was simple, with no heating or electricity, I have fond memories of those early years.
We grew food on our own land surrounding the house. While rice was the major crop, we were lucky to have lots of different vegetables and herbs growing wild by the side of the rice paddy, so we often foraged for food. This bounty meant we rarely had to buy food from town, except for sugar and salt, which we used to ferment and preserve foods grown in the rainy season to use during the dry season.
I clearly remember the day an Australian visitor came to our house at the start of one rainy season, when the paddy was filled with water. As we walked home I noticed bubbles on the water, so I quickly put my hand underneath and caught some small freshwater crabs. My mother was very happy as we didn’t have any meat or fish, and she used them to make her delicious tom yum crab. The visitor was really impressed with what we could cook from ingredients collected from the field and garden. I have happy memories of the times Mum and I went out into the bush at the end of the rainy season to search for local white shiitake-style mushrooms – they were hard to find, but we knew they grew in the same place every year. Considered a delicacy, they were expensive, so we sold them to increase our income.
There wasn’t much food during the dry season, so Dad worked in the forest and Mum often went with a group of women from the village to search for freshwater fish in the nearby waterways. My grandfather provided bamboo coops and containers for them. We’d wait for Mum to return – if she was late, our dinner was late, but if we were lucky, we had dinner early. Mum made the best tom yum mud-fish I’ve ever eaten, and my grandfather supplied the dry-roasted chilli the adults added.
Every day I walked three kilometres and back to a primary school in a neighbouring village. Soon after I started high school, my dad set up a chicken farm and, being the eldest, it was my job to get up really early, wake my brother and sister, and give water to the chickens, then feed them before heading off to school. My siblings weren’t happy about this, but it meant we were well-fed. Another bonus was that the manure fertilised our farm, so we always had plenty of home-grown vegetables. We worked hard and were always busy, but this was a prosperous and happy time for my family.
As the oldest, it was also my responsibility to help out at home, so I learnt to cook when I was eight. My mother and grandparents taught me to use whatever ingredients were available to make a tasty meal. My first lesson was how to cook rice over charcoal heat – later, we used an aluminium steamer and cake tin over charcoal or a gas burner. Mastering a simple stir-fry was next; even now, this is the style of dish my family enjoys most, especially my basil minced chicken on page 79.
When the work in the rice fields was done, we needed other sources of income. Mum and I cooked and sold food at the local night market, particularly during festivals and ceremonies at the temples. We sometimes worked from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. and were well known for having the best desserts and popular sweet snacks, such as banana fritters.
After completing the equivalent of my higher school certificate in mathematics and science, I studied accounting at a university in Bangkok, which I must confess I didn’t like. Without telling my parents, I moved to an open university and studied science with a major in chemistry – I really wanted to study food and cooking, but there were no courses in Thailand at that time.
Later, I spent six years in the south of Thailand, where I really enjoyed learning about the local cuisine from my partner’s mother and sister – I’ll never forget how much they taught me. Southern food includes dishes with Buddhist and Islamic influences and is very different from the food I grew up with. Turmeric is a common ingredient, though it’s not used much at all in the rest of Thailand, and I found this, along with the frequent use of super-fresh seafood and freshwater greens, really interesting. Southerners also use more coconut cream and coconut milk, and they favour the spices used in the neighbouring countries of Malaysia and Indonesia.