A guide to eating your way through Laos

On a sunny and humid July morning, just outside Luang Prabang, the cultural capital of Laos, ancient rice terraces stretch out like a green blanket to the horizon. It is not yet 9 am but a handful of us, with conical bamboo hats perched on our heads, almost knee-deep in greyish slushy mud, are profusely sweating. We are trying to plant saplings as part of an immersive rice experience at Living Land Farm, a local collective, but the effort can be described as clumsy at best. A Laotian youngster from the collective, our guide, is very amused. Taking pity, he calls off the exercise and ushers us into a covered area and leads us through the rest of the process. The collective sigh of relief is audible.

Rice is a permanent fixture on the Laotian table and sticky rice, or khao niew, is a staple. After taking us through the harvesting, threshing and pounding process, he shows us how it is cooked. Unlike steaming or boiling like regular rice, it is first soaked in water and then steamed in a conical bamboo basket called thip khao placed over a large pot of water. When almost done, it is continuously flipped, to agitate the gluten perhaps, until it forms a solid mass the size of a football. Fistfuls are then plucked and shaped into smaller balls and served in small bamboo pockets. It is soft, slightly sweet and chewy, and I eat it with an assortment of rice crisps. The rice is usually off white in colour, but can also be red, maroon and even black. Some estimates say the country grows over 500 varieties.

Laotian cuisine is simple and fresh with bold spices, herbs and condiments, including chilli, lime and fish sauce. There are influences from Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, China and Myanmar, but it has managed to remain distinct. In a country where more than 70 per cent of the land is mountainous, the food is based on foraging in the woods and jungles and can sometimes include catfish, river crabs, insects, birds and even frogs, herbs, lemongrass and wild mushrooms. I come across some of these in Luang Prabang’s early morning market where old ladies display their wares on rice gunny bags.

Considered to be the country’s national dish, larb or laab, is a minced meat salad made with pork, chicken, beef or fish. It can also contain mushrooms, tofu, banana flowers and sprouts. This is mixed with lime juice, fresh herbs, and roasted rice powder for crunch. It is usually eaten with sticky rice and also cabbage and lettuce leaves to temper the chilli kick. I opt for it at 3 Nagas, a restaurant on Sakkaline Road.

Larb faces competition from tam mak hoong or papaya salad. Unlike the Thai som tam, the version at Tamarind Restaurant and Cooking School on Kingkitsarath Road has a distinct fermented flavour from fish sauce. Slivers of papaya are combined with tomatoes, lime, chilli, garlic and fish sauce, ending up with a dish that has a bold mix of spicy, sour, sweet and salty.

But the best accompaniment to the sticky rice is or lam, the traditional Laotian slow-cooked stew, considered to be a true classic of the country. On a day-long Mekong river cruise, stopping at Buddhist temples, rice wine breweries and spice gardens, I also eat or lam, a slow-cooked stew and sticky rice. It is a melange of vegetables with herbs such as chilli and lemongrass. What makes it interesting is the addition of Lao chilli wood, a vine that has a peppery flavour to the point of numbing the tongue. But teamed with sticky rice, it is earthy and warming. After the fieriness, it is only apt to chase it down with chunks of mango and sweet sticky rice.

Later that evening, wandering around Luang Prabang’s night market on Sisavangvong road, a cluster of little alleys packed with food stalls draws attention. I succumb at the sai oua stall, selling all kinds of Laotian sausages. Made with minced pork, it is incredibly savoury with the addition of herbs and spices. Later, I enjoy a different version, cut into bite-sized pieces and served with sticky rice and dipping sauces at Manda de Laos restaurant.

On the last night, I head back to the night market and have khao poun, a noodle soup made with rice vermicelli and dunked in a savoury broth made with coconut milk. I opt for chicken, but it can contain pork or fish too. The flavours are complex, drawn from lime leaves, garlic, galangal, chillies and fish sauce. As if that’s not enough, it is accompanied by fresh herbs, lime wedges, crispy noodles and fried onions for added texture. It is a meal in itself and entirely satisfying, and in a way epitomises Laos itself.

Anita Rao Kashi is an independent journalist based in Bengaluru.