Learning to Eat the Food of Your Neighbours in Thailand

A shelf of home food, kept stocked, can calm a hard day.

By Neil Solomon · 3 min read

Picture a couple named Arne and Liv, who have moved to a village in the Isaan region of Thailand. The house is good. The neighbours are kind. But by the third week, Arne stands in the kitchen and wants one thing, a plain slice of bread with butter and cheese.

I read about a Norwegian man in his late 60s who lived this exact moment. Most people miss home food. What stands out to me is what happened next.

Curiosity goes both ways

The neighbours were curious about him. They watched what he cooked, what he bought, what he left on the plate. Villagers often ask about the new person at the end of the road, and food is an easy place to start. A man who eats what they eat is a man they understand.

Then there was the village chief. As I understand the story, he encouraged the newcomer to join in local customs. It read to me like an invitation from someone who wanted him to feel part of the place.

So the man began to learn to eat Isaan food. I think that took courage. At that age, taste is settled. We know what we like, and we are tired of being beginners.

Two ways to read a table

I notice two different feelings in people who move far from home.

One feeling is loss. The dish you grew up with is gone, or it tastes wrong, or the ingredient has a different name. Each meal reminds you of what you left.

The other feeling is trade. The food is different, and so you are invited to different tables. You say yes to a bowl you cannot name, and someone smiles.

Neither feeling is wrong. Many people hold both in the same week.

A small moment

Liv comes home from a neighbour's porch, a little pink in the face.

"They gave me something so hot I could not speak," she says.

"Did you finish it?" Arne asks.

"I did. They laughed so hard. Then they gave me more."

I think this is how it often goes. The first bite is for the neighbour. The second bite may be for you.

What I take from it

I do not think anyone should give up the food they love. A shelf of home food, kept stocked, can calm a hard day. But I also think a village table opens a door that a home kitchen cannot. If you only cook what you always cooked, your neighbours may stay polite and far. If you try theirs, even badly, the distance can shrink.

Taste also changes slowly. What seems strange in month one may be a favourite in month eight. That is worth knowing before deciding the food "does not suit" you.