Siem Reap

We arrived in Cambodia after a full night of partying on the white sand Tanjong Beach of Sentosa accompanied by gorgeous guests of a gorgeous wedding. Our 6 AM flight out of Singapore was a stark way to enter the other real world.

On the ground in Siem Reap, the welcoming committee was a uniformed line of customs officials--men who collected, passed along, stamped, and eventually returned foreign passports with mechanical efficiency. They took particular interest in my paperwork, snickering as they shuffled it along their desk. I figured they were impressed with the interesting stamps I have collected from the weird corners of the world. When I went to the airport restroom, I realized my dress had come unbuttoned at an inopportune spot while I was fitfully sleeping on the plane. I sincerely hope I was a bright spot each in of their mornings.

We had booked accommodation in advance to provide a soft landing at a plusher hotel in town. A driver met us at the airport doors and whisked us away to a paradisial little spot where Sarah Brightman, Andrea Boccelli, and Josh Groban play on repeat in the lobby while mosquitoes lazily drift in from the poolside through dark wood window frames. We spent the day appreciately napping and reading. The trip to dinner marked my first ride in a tri-wheel Tuk Tuk, the distinctively Southeast Asian means of carting Westerners from site to site.

Dinner was a fantastic culinary experience in that I was surprised by flavors I'd never before tasted. Cambodians make constant use of prahok, a fermented fish paste that far outshines Thai nam pla in its smelliness. We sampled a fried noodle dish, a dip (fish sauce) with vegetables, and fish amok, each of which bore that same undertaste of fishy odor. The amok, a sort of curry souffle with spinach, peppers, and fish poached to a soft flaky texture, was far and away the highlight dish. The others were simply too pungent. Back in 8th grade Latin class, we read with astounded disgust a recipie for the Roman condiment garum, which is made by leaving fish in a pan in the sun for several days, then mashing it into a paste with salt just before it starts to harden. With each bite of this new cuisine, I couldn't help but think of fish decomposing, much the same way I can't eat Caesar salad when I think about anchovies. I can't add this dinner to a list of favorites, but I will remember it for a long time. So excited was I to discover a new set of flavors, particularly one about which I have a strong opinion.

After some more much needed rest, we'll tackle the Angkor Wat temples!