Cambodia expat blog: Cambodia travel tips, advice, and info

Steering clear of motos

Posted on January 24, 2013 by Marissa Carruthers

Marissa Carruthers is a freelance journalist who left behind life in the UK for the sun and smiles of Cambodia. In her column, she shares the ups and downs of settling into life in Phnom Penh as a new expat.

No motos for Marissa!

I toyed with the idea of caving into my fear and getting a moto the other day.

It felt like I was pretty much the only person in Phnom Penh who doesn’t have one and I was getting tired of relying on tuk tuks who, unless you stick to the same few, are constantly trying to rip you off.

I’d mastered crossing the road and I’d kind of come to understand the flow of traffic in that, well, it just flows. Despite the heavy buzz of vehicles at every junction and crossroad, motos, cars, tuk tuks and people weave in and out of each other calmly and it works seamlessly – most of the time.

It seemed to be simple: scrap all the road rules my driving instructor had patiently taught me over several gruelling months many years ago back home, drive slowly at junctions, beep a bit, be confident and learn to weave those wheels.

So during a trip to sleepy Kampot I decided to test drive the much-quieter roads on a pushbike. Cycling along the river front was a breeze – okay, so only one moto went by but I was feeling good – and then I hit the first junction and froze. The traffic wasn’t stopping and as trucks roared along covering me in dust I didn’t feel confident pushing forward the flimsy frame of my bike.

I eventually managed to cross and beefed up my battered confidence along another stretch of quiet road. Settling into the saddle, I started to enjoy myself and then suddenly out of nowhere I heard the screeching of tyres and saw a man on a moped hurtling straight for me from a side road.

I panicked and swung my bike out just as a car was about to pass me. Thankfully, it swerved in time and there was nothing coming the other way, but as the man on the moped came to a halt just inches from me and started apologising profusely, I knew there was no way I was ready to take on the mean streets of Phnom Penh.

Call me a wimp but to be quite frank, the roads here petrify me. Unlike the UK’s orderly traffic that’s controlled by stringent signs, traffic lights, road markings, roundabouts and, at times too many, rules, here anything – and I mean anything – seems to go.

And any small part of me that still yearned for a moto was dashed the other night when my tuk tuk was driving along Sihanouk Boulevard and we came across a crowd of people huddled around the still body of a man lying next to a crumpled moto; his head surrounded in a pool of blood – a stark reminder of how dangerous and deadly they can be.

My mind is made up. I’m definitely steering clear of motos.

Eating street food in Cambodia

Posted on January 23, 2013 by Lina Goldberg

Looking to try street food in Cambodia? Check out our new Phnom Penh Food Tours and Siem Reap Food Tours and spend a morning chowing down on the street, at the market, and in small local restaurants.

Every afternoon Cambodian students sit down to enjoy some of their country’s most delicious dishes: its street food. But for expats this is one of the least savored facets of Cambodia’s generally under-appreciated cuisine.

The perfect breakfast, a steaming bowl of Cambodia’s noodle soup, kuy teav.

Many expats believe that the Kingdom’s roadside delicacies consist of little more more than deep-fried tarantulas and stir-fried crickets. Concerns about hygiene also keep some foreigners from indulging.

But the best street food isn’t about bugs–either the edible or intestinal kind–and it’s too good to miss. You just need to choose wisely. The safest street foods are those that are cooked in front of you and served hot, which kills off bacteria. And despite what you may have heard, the ice in Cambodia is generally safe to consume. “Street food has two advantages over food cooked in restaurants: transparency and immediacy. When you eat on the street nothing is hidden; you can judge whether or not the person handling your food, the surface on which it’s prepped and the plate on which it will be served is clean,” said food journalist Robyn Eckhardt, who has written extensively about street food in Asia and Turkey for international publications. “And because the time from stall to table is just seconds, you can be confident that your food hasn’t languished long enough to collect the odd bacteria.”

Here are some of the safest and tastiest dishes that you’ll find on the streets of Cambodia. Although they are usually sold at street-side stands and by roving vendors, you’ll also find them at the food area at Central Market, which has grown-up-sized seats and perhaps slightly higher hygienic standards.

The sweetest rocket fuel you’ll ever drink.

Iced coffee with milk

Perhaps the easiest introduction to street food is its beverages. The thoroughfares of Phnom Penh are lined with coffee shops selling kar-fe toek doh koh toek gok, or iced coffee with sweetened condensed milk. If you’re like me, knowing that the beans are roasted in lard makes the sweet, strong coffee taste that much better. Some choose to have it without the condensed milk, but they underestimate the mental clarity aroused by the tingling of dental cavities caused by the drink’s unabashed treacliness.

Chive cakes

Fried in shallow pans by mobile street vendors, num kachay are small chive cakes, made with glutinous rice flour and served with a sweet, spicy fish sauce. You’ll find similar versions of this dish in Thailand, but the recipe is believed to have originated in China.

Beef skewers

A common afternoon or evening snack in Cambodia, sach ko chomkak are skewers of beef cooked over hot coals. They’re best enjoyed tucked into a crunchy baguette and accompanied by tart green papaya slaw and spicy red chili sauce.

Not the most visually appealing, but fried noodles are some of the cheapest, most filling street food in Cambodia.

Fried noodles

Variations of fried noodles abound in Cambodia, but whether they’re made with short, thick rice noodles that resemble worms, soft yellow egg noodles or packaged deep-fried instant ramen noodles, mi char is one of the simplest and most satisfying afternoon snacks. While sellers have many different variations, beef and pork stir-fried with tender greens are the most common. For an added treat, ask for a fried egg on top.

Noodle soup

One of the most popular breakfasts in town, kuy teav is a noodle soup made from pork or beef bones and rice vermicelli and topped with fried shallots, green onions and bean sprouts. Fish balls and pork are usually added, although you’ll sometimes find rare-beef kuy teav as well. But don’t dare call it pho! Many Cambodians believe that the dish originated in Kampuchea Krom–the area of Southern Vietnam that was once part of the Khmer Empire–and that the famous Vietnamese soup came second. A delicious Phnom Penh speciality version of the soup, kuy teav Phnom Penh, featuring blood, liver, intestines and tongue, is not for the faint of heart (or squeamish expats).

Expat Q&A: Medical care and having hernia surgery in Cambodia

Posted on January 21, 2013 by Lina Goldberg

In this series we talk to Cambodia expats about what they wish they had known when they first moved to Cambodia that they know now.

This week we talk to Bruce Douglas. Bruce initially came to Cambodia to conduct research for his master’s degree on post-1979 Khmer Rouge diplomatic relations. Because his consulting firm allowed him to work remotely, he moved to Cambodia permanently in 2010.

Bruce at Bokor Mountain, Cambodia.

MTC: Bruce, what do you know now that you wish you had known when you first moved to Cambodia?

BD: “I wish I had researched medical insurance options in Cambodia better and then not procrastinated about obtaining new insurance. My coverage through my US-based job did not transfer once Cambodia became my official address. There were lots of things I did wrong in general. I’ll share my experience about having hernia surgery here in Cambodia because it runs the gamut in terms of positive and negative. I had to pay for it all myself and to top everything else off, my company closed my business unit so my income dropped to zero.

Initially, I went to the Bumrungrad or another Bangkok hospital. I was advised that the test to determine for sure wasn’t worth the cost because they would just do it again in Thailand. Then, I talked to a couple of other expats who had done the surgery at Calmette Hospital here in Phnom Penh. They had received good care and the cost was low. I went there.

After an examination, the admitting physician told me I did not have a hernia and, in a first for me, he had the nurse tear up my forms so I was never even charged for the consultation. Since I was pretty sure there was something going on, I was finally referred to a small expat-run clinic. I sat down with the administrator and said I am just looking for advice, I didn’t know what to do. She asked why I had not gotten a test done and that it was only $12. Really? So, off I go to a maternity clinic for an ultrasound. The first thing the doctor said to me is “You know you have a hernia, right?”

Once confirmed, I got a referral to a local clinic that had also done hernia operations for expats around my age. My initial examination lasted 2 hours and included a thorough check, physical and blood work. At this point, I had to make a really hard decision. The total cost inclusive of 3 nights in the clinic was $1,200 as opposed to $8,000 in Thailand or $50K+ in the US. Was I playing with my life? What about all of these warnings about Cambodian medical care?

I would wipe out my savings going to Thailand and not have any income since my job was gone. I cast my lot with fate and went with the Cambodian option. I liked the doctors and had (I think) amused the staff when I tried to bargain with the business manager in Khmer from $1,200 to $200 and then told her my top price was $300. I knew it wasn’t something I could bargain over, but when I checked in for the surgery the staff knew who I was and were laughing that I was that crazy barang who tried to bargain.

I had to walk upstairs to the operating room. I was skeptical–it wasn’t dirty, but it wasn’t the pristine experience one might wish. I won’t go into all of the details, but the background “muzac” was excellent, at one point playing I Left My Heart in San Francisco….since I had lived there and was considering the likelihood of dying on the operating table, it seemed appropriate! The main surgeon came in and they got down to business. They did not want to put me completely under, so that was the main painful part. I now know what my sister went through with her epidurals.

The staff was incredibly comforting and would speak to me, touch my foot, arm, hand, etc. when they thought something was going to be uncomfortable. They would also lean on me when the doctor wanted to show them something specific he was doing. At one point he said something about being #1. In my very basic Khmer, I said I hoped he was saying he was the #1 doctor in Cambodia. Up to that point, he had only heard me speak English. The room went kind of quiet until he erupted in laughter, then everyone else did too.

Two final points, there was no elevator back to my level. I am not a small person. It looked they hired guys off the street to get me onto the gurney and then literally carry me (flat) down the stairs. The first night was incredibly painful and I begged for more medication. They would only give me enough to take the edge off. I said, you know I can send my friend to the pharmacy to just buy the medication. The response was, yet we know, but this is your second hernia and we want you to feel the pain so you will not do it again! Bravo for them!

After that first night, the pain kept diminishing and I was very mobile. The staff was very worried that I had no family to take care of me, but then one of the doctors said the surgeon had warned him that barangs were different and that they shouldn’t worry about it. It’s not a judgment, just a cultural difference. If you have family here, they are going to do everything help keep you comfortable. Most of us do not, so we get up and go to the bathroom without assistance and pour our own water, etc.

I was checked on constantly and I think my choice of food was a matter of some discussion…they did say no dietary restrictions. The stitches were honestly far superior to what I received in my first operation in the States. That surgery had also been outpatient. The kindness and concern of the people even in changing bandages, etc. was evident. They were always ready to answer my questions.

If I had it to do over again, I would still go the Cambodian route. Clearly, not for everything, but research, talk to people and most especially make sure you have the right insurance so you do have options. I have mine now through Infinity Insurance.”

Bruce is currently looking for a job in operations management in the private sector or with an NGO. If you know of anything, please contact him via email.

Boozing in Siem Reap

Posted on January 18, 2013 by Lina Goldberg

It may only be a six-hour bus trip from Cambodia’s capital, but to many Phnom Penh expats Siem Reap might as well be a thousand miles away. Siem Reap has a drinking culture that’s well worth a visit, however. The nightlife options there are certainly fewer and more geographically concentrated than in Phnom Penh–most of the town’s watering holes are centered around the Old Market. But luckily the Siem Reap expats are a friendly crew, not afraid to go boozing on weeknights or show a lonely visitor the ropes. Here are a few of my new favorite spots.

Hong Kry makes a drink with flair in a real tuk tuk at Siem Reap’s Tuk Tuk Bar.

Start off an evening on the roof terrace of the Soup Dragon, where you can take in the sun setting over the Old Market area while quaffing two-for-one happy hour cocktails. The marginally higher temperatures in Siem Reap practically beg for frozen margaritas.

Next, venture over to Miss Wong, a cocktail bar inspired by old-time Shanghai that makes Phnom Penh expats whimper with jealousy. From a lemongrass collins to a bloody mary made with Kampot pepper-infused vodka, the cocktails at Miss Wong are truly excellent, making the most of Asian flavors and the ridiculously low prices for high-quality booze in the Kingdom. They’re also now serving a small menu of light dishes and comfort food, in addition to the tasty dim sum that’s been on the menu for some time.

For those on a budget, Viva! is always a good bet, offering $1.50 margaritas, frozen or on the rocks. Surprisingly, even the flavoured options — pineapple, mango and strawberry — are pretty tasty. After Viva!, head across the street to Laundry, a dimly lit expat favorite that is open late. For diversion they have a pool table and darts, and they stock South African cider in addition to all the usual beers and spirits. Next door, Warehouse regularly has live music and a mixed crowd of tourists and expats.

Nearby, Station Wine Bar offer 20 types of wine by the glass from around the world and stages drag shows three times a week, featuring the creative side of katoey. Across from the John McDermott Gallery you’ll find gay hangout Linga Bar. Linga isn’t usually busy until later in the evening, but it’s a good place to watch the local color–in the form of Cambodian moneyboys–while enjoying a well-prepared cocktail.

Get a taste of old Shanghai (and perfect cocktails) at Miss Wong in Siem Reap.

Good for warm-up or come-down drinks (they’re open until sunrise) is a newcomer to the Siem Reap scene, Tuk Tuk Bar. With drinks served out of a parked Thai tuk tuk, this small, chilled-out bar offers some of the most creative cocktail combinations in town at rock-bottom prices. Owner and chief mixologist Mao Hong Kry may be known to more than a few Phnom Penh expats; he comes from a stint at Nagaworld’s Darlin’ Darlin bar, where he spent his time creating outlandish cocktails and juggling bottles while deftly lighting drinks on fire. His antics at Tuk Tuk Bar are no less impressive. Don’t be afraid to test his mettle by asking for a custom cocktail based on your most outlandish personal preferences.

Once you’re sufficiently intoxicated, it’s worth taking advantage of Siem Reap’s more serious nightlife and boozing opportunities. Angkor What? boasts that they’ve been “promoting irresponsible drinking since 1998,” and while their drinks aren’t necessarily the most gourmet in town, they do offer a free T-shirt if you buy two buckets in one order. In a spirit of investigative journalism, I partook of the Long Island iced tea bucket and found it surprisingly drinkable.

Directly across the street is Temple Club, who are giving Angkor What? a run for their money in the drunken-backpacker-dancing-on-raised-platforms category. In many ways Temple Club is superior, but only if you’re only interested in dancing or people-watching, because their inattentive and mixology-challenged bartenders leave much to be desired. The lack of a noticeable sex-worker presence in the club, though, makes it a refreshing change from the Phnom Penh bar scene.

If a night of dancing runs late, the final option is X Bar, which picks up the crowds once Temple and Angkor What? close down. Rave music and didgeridoos notwithstanding, it’s an inexpensive spot for a final nightcap before heading home to a bucket-induced morning headache.

Soup Dragon, Pub Street, T: 063 964 933
Miss Wong, The Lane (North Pub Street Alley), T: 092 428 332
Linga, The Passage (Pub Street Alley), T: 012 540 548
Viva!, 2 Thnou Street and Street 9, T: 063 963 151
Laundry, Street 9, 012 301 743
Warehouse, Street 9, T: 063 964 933
The Station Wine Bar, Street 7, T: 097 850 4043
Tuk Tuk Bar, alley off Sivutha Blvd next to X Bar, T: 092 909 686
Angkor What?, Pub Street, T:012 490 755
Temple Club, Pub Street, 015 999 909
X Bar, 12 Sivutha Blvd (Opposite Pub Street), T: 012 263 271

Getting dental care in Cambodia: A visit to Roomchang

Posted on January 16, 2013 by Lina Goldberg

I have a confession to make. I hadn’t been to the dentist since I moved to Cambodia two and a half years ago. Even at home I dread the dentist. But in a country like Cambodia, which is renowned for the low quality of its medical care, I’ve managed to put it off. Until now, that is.

Friendly receptionists at Roomchang in Phnom Penh

Let me see yo’ grill: Smiling receptionists at Phnom Penh’s Roomchang

As part of a wave of new year’s remorse, I decided to head straight to the dentist for a consult, cleaning and a couple of x-rays to see what sort of damage I had wrought. I can’t pretend I wasn’t nervous–after reading the bit on medical training in Cambodia’s Curse I vowed to never get any sort of medical care in Cambodia. But I’ve heard many, many times that the dental care in Cambodia is outstanding, and that there are a few clinics with high-tech equipment that’s more advanced that what you’ll often find at home, and technicians that are internationally-trained and gentle.

So I decided to give it a shot and go to Roomchang, a dental clinic in Phnom Penh that is both highly recommended by expats and ridiculously cheap by Western standards. To give you an idea, consultations are free, cleanings are $20, x-rays, which include a panoramic x-ray and bitewings cost $15, and it costs $20 or $25 for a filling, depending on the severity of the cavity.

Best of all, I rolled in with no appointment but since the ten-story building is filled with more eager young dentists than they can provide work for, walk-ins are welcome. I went with a friend and we were each were in a chair with our mouths open within fifteen minutes of arriving.

The outside of the Roomchang Dental Tour

Ten floors of dental heaven in Phnom Penh.

I initially went in for just a cleaning and x-rays, but was told I had a cavity in exactly the spot a previous dentist told me I would be unable to avoid getting one (a deep crevice in a back molar). The dentist told me she could see it from looking at it, and the x-rays confirmed it. Although I had decided I was not going to get any work done beyond a cleaning before I went in, by the time the cleaning was over I trusted her enough to let her do the filling as well.

The cleaning was excellent — very professional, gentle and remarkably fast. Much less of the scratchy scratchy scraping, they were using some sort of electronic scraper that did the job faster and with less head-wrecking noise.

In the West, my dentists usually spend a fair amount of time berating me for not flossing enough or rolling their eyes at my overwrought grimaces of pain. In Cambodia, on the other hand, my dentist was delighted with the fact that I manage to brush my teeth twice a day and congratulated me several times about it.

A view of the equipment at Roomchang, Phnom Penh

Your throne at Roomchang Dental.

The facilities themselves were immaculate, with a gorgeous view of Phnom Penh. In all of the Western countries I’ve spent time getting dental work (USA, UK, Ireland) this was by far the most impressive clinic and most advanced-looking equipment (whether it is actually advanced is impossible for a layman like me to judge).

The filling was quick and they emailed me my x-rays in case I wanted to have another dentist look at it. They also gave us free Roomchang t-shirts and calendars because it was our first visit. My friend later went back for a wisdom tooth extraction that cost him $150. He said the care he received was outstanding — both the surgery and the after-care.

Overall, despite the fact that I’m terrified of the dentist and terrified of getting medical care in Cambodia, I was very pleased with my visit to Roomchang and would highly recommend the place to other expats.

Roomchang Dental and Aesthetic Hospital
4 St 184, Phnom Penh
T: 023 211 338; 011 811 338 (Emergency)
W: roomchang.com

Expat Q&A: Just how charming Phnom Penh can be

Posted on January 14, 2013 by Lina Goldberg

In this series we talk to Cambodia expats about what they wish they had known when they first moved to Cambodia that they know now.

This week we hear from Andy Wenhlowskyj who moved to Cambodia in late 2010. He works as a business development manager with an Australian firm creating supply chain solutions for Australian retailers.

Andy receiving a birthday cake from an Angry Bird

Andy enjoying one of his favorite aspects of Cambodia: the angry birds.

MTC: Andy, what do you know now that you wish you had known when you first moved to Cambodia?

AW: “I wish I’d known it was dog soup before I’d devoured the whole bowl. 4 a.m., surrounded by tuk tuk drivers after a heavy night on the turps, the mystery soup came out as a snack alongside the jugs of beer we were chugging. They all had a great laugh as soon as I’d finished my soup and was innocently digesting dog protein.

I wish I’d known a lot more Khmer. “Can I get the ket loi please?” “Pull a bot saddam just here. Thanks, mate.” “I’ll have an Anchor Draft, mouy,” are all examples of how pathetic my Khmenglish was for a while. When I arrived people told me it was fine to speak English everywhere, and it helps Khmers improve their English skills with you. Pffft, what a slack excuse! Start learning the language and you’ll see that there’s much more enjoyment for both you and a Cambodian to reciprocally exchange language tips with each other. “Sok sabai?” “Sai sabok!”

I wish I’d known that what I considered to be enforceable traffic laws back home–such as obeying traffic lights or driving on the correct side of the road (or even on the sidewalk)–are considered to be mere recommendations for safe travel in Phnom Penh. You’ll be fined for more serious violations, though, like having your headlights on during the daytime, beeping your horn at night, and pulling a U-turn in the only opening of a road fence which has forced you two kilometres further than you had to go. Remember the big Lexus SUV (especially the one with red and blue registration plates) always have right of way–don’t test this one out, just get out of the way. Traffic at times may seem chaotic, yet it just works. You’ll notice there is no road rage here; be patient and just go with the flow, you’ll get to your destination just fine. DON’T DRINK AND RIDE. It’s so easy to get a tuk-tuk, just make sure your driver is sober as well.

I wish I’d known to master using the bum gun. I spent many visits to the throne just staring it down like I was confronted by a poised cobra, too scared to move or take my eyes off it. Everyone should try the bum gun. If you have no idea what to do, just ask someone you’re comfortable talking about your number 2s with. It’s also a handy tool to spray off your Pontoon feet, or after that awkward moment when you accidentally step into curbside rubbish juice.

group aerobics at Olympic Stadium in Phnom Penh

Sunrise and sunset are the best times to join in Cambodian aerobics.

I wish I’d known that sunrise and sunset is when you see just how charming Phnom Penh can be. Whether you’re coming home from a big night out or you’re just a natural early bird, you can see the city wake and swing into action from around 5 a.m. The air is cooler, people are heading to work or settled into their favourite street-side breakfast joints. This is the best time to get some grilled BBQ pork and rice down the hatch.

For sunsets, there’s even more activity going on: join a high-energy aerobics class held in the city parks, or for some tamer exercise have a hit of badminton, walk some laps around Hun Sen Park, or try your skills at Sey (Phnom Penh foot shuttlecock) on the riverside.

I wish I knew the formula to winning Connect Four or the dice game. Howie’s is a top after hours bar on Street 51 where everybody knows your name. You can play both of these games with the friendly staff. It’s a fun way to start or end your night. Good luck ever winning.

Finally, I really wish I’d known that sweat just happens to be a part of everyday life here. Embrace it. It’s healthy.”

The Khmer culinary mind behind The Empire

Posted on January 11, 2013 by Lina Goldberg

For Veasna Kay, cooking has always been a passion. He was raised in a family of rice farmers, but today the handsome 25-year-old has found his way to becoming a chef–a chef who has succeeded in adapting Khmer cuisine to suit the Western palate. His venue is the Empire, a cosy bar and restaurant on Street 130 that serves up a range of delicious Khmer and Western dishes. Run by Veasna and his British partner, Niall Crotty, the Empire offers fare from both owners’ worlds, featuring fish and chips and bangers and mash alongside Khmer curry and Cambodian rare beef salad.

Seth Sina, aka Veasna Kay, the chef and co-owner of The Empire.

Veasna, real name Seth Sina, grew up in Kampong Cham, the youngest of six. As a boy he was expected to help in the family rice paddies with his brothers, a job that he abhorred. At age 12 he abandoned farming and focused his energies instead on the family kitchen, where he began learning to cook with his mother and sister.

One thing he learned was how to prepare a meal for his family of nine for less than 500 riel. He’d fish and catch crabs, harvest vegetables from the family garden and only need to buy a little bit of prahok, sugar and salt each day before he started cooking. “Cheap cheap,” he told me, with an infectious laugh that lights up the Empire.

Niall and Veasna, who’ve been together for three and a half years, were some of the first people I met when I moved to Phnom Penh, and their dinner parties were legendary. “I’m rubbish at cooking,” Niall confessed. “After we first met he said, ‘I’ll take you to the market and cook you something.’” The results were fantastic, Niall recalls.

“Later, we started having people over, just a few friends or couchsurfers, and eventually we ended up having giant dinner parties every week. People said, ‘This food is amazing! You should open a restaurant.'” Two years ago that’s exactly what they did. Their restaurant, with its intimate ambiance, still retains the feel of a dinner party, especially when Niall and Veasna are on hand to chat with the customers.

The Empire’s red curry, it’s currytastic.

Before discovering his culinary destiny, Veasna had harboured hopes of making it as a singer and tried studying marketing in school. It was only after meeting Niall that he realized his talent in the kitchen could become his calling. With Niall’s encouragement, he attended a local cooking school for a few months. He was top of his class and further developed his natural ability to recreate just about any dish after trying it only once.

In addition to Cambodian homestyle cooking, the Empire offers Western dishes that Veasna had never tasted, let alone made, before meeting Niall. In addition to standards such as steaks served with British-style chips and chili con carne, he sometimes brings the two cuisines together, as in his deliciously creamy beef pasta flecked with spicy chilies.

While the international dishes at the Empire are quite popular, for me it’s Veasna’s Khmer offerings that stand out. They are made with a Western palate in mind, sanitized of prahok and served without bones, but at their core they are typical Khmer comfort foods, satisfying and tasty. I enjoy the Khmer beef soup–with its delicately spiced broth and tender chunks of beef it’s not only nourishing, but sublime. Another favorite is the red curry, served with French baguette. “The first time we served it was as a one-off on Veasna’s birthday,” Niall told me. “But people loved it so much that we added it to the menu.”

Veasna smiled, clearly proud of the fact that his cooking, once so popular with his family, is now being enjoyed by Westerners who may have never tried Khmer food before. “When foreign people eat it,” he said, “they say it’s delicious.”

Veasna has moved on from the Empire and is now running his own business offering cooking classes and private dining experiences. Learn more at Veasna in the Kitchen and check out his great Khmer cooking videos.

Homesickness sinks in

Posted on January 10, 2013 by Marissa Carruthers

Phnom Penh: Starting to feel like home.

The Cambodian dust finally settled for me about two weeks ago and initially it wasn’t good.

I’d been so caught up in the excitement that moving to a new country brings that I hate to admit it but I hadn’t really spent that much time thinking about life back home.

In my first few weeks I was in holiday mode but that was okay because I hadn’t had a break in a while and after the stresses and strains of moving, I was allowed to take some time off.

Expecting the homesickness bug to hit around about the time serious mode switched on, it didn’t and I continued to relish in my new surroundings, still overwhelmed by the new smells and sights that bombarded my senses at every step on this new path I was treading.

But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, the excitement started to wear off and novelty morphed into familiarity. I was suddenly able to cross the road in less than five minutes, I recognised the squeaking of the etjais calling for waste, I no longer stared in disbelief at a family of six sharing a motorbike or tuk-tuks rammed full of too many mattresses to count.

With my mind no longer preoccupied with Cambodia’s chaos, it had time to drift back home to the friends I’ve left behind. To the babies close friends had just after I left. To my family who were celebrating Christmas without me.

Thank god for modern technology and after several distressed Skype calls, a video call where I got to see one of the never-before-seen babies and several kicks-up the ass on Facebook – “stop whinging, woman, you’re living your dream, remember” was the sympathetic response from one friend – I managed to see sense.

My friends and family are all a phone call, email, Facebook message or Tweet away and best of all I’m in Cambodia, living a life I know I’d envy if I was sat back at home, plus as I flew into Cambodia after a few days away last week and looked out over Phnom Penh I felt a warm fuzzy feeling light up inside and smiled. This place is actually starting to feel like home.

Move to Cambodia