What to Eat in Siem Reap: Khmer Food Without the Photo Menus

Cambodian food gets described as a milder Thai or a sweeter Vietnamese, and both of those are lazy. It sits between its neighbours but the building blocks are its own.

Kroeung is the foundation: a paste of lemongrass, galangal, turmeric, kaffir lime leaf and zest, garlic and shallot, pounded fresh in a mortar every morning in every serious kitchen in the country. Yellow, red and green kroeung differ by what is added, and the difference between a dish made with this morning's kroeung and one made with last week's is the difference between a good meal and a forgettable one.

Prahok is the other pillar and the one visitors are warned about: a fermented fish paste that carries the salt and the depth in a huge share of Khmer cooking. Used properly it is not fishy on the plate, it is savoury. Eaten straight, as prahok ktis with pork and coconut, it is a genuine acquired taste and worth trying once.

Kampot pepper is the third. It has a protected geographical indication, the first Cambodia registered, and green peppercorns still on the stem - picked that morning and cooked whole - are a different ingredient from the grey dust in a shaker.

Cambodian food is notably less chilli-forward than Thai. Heat is usually on the table rather than in the pot, which surprises people who arrive expecting the opposite.

Fish amok - the national dish and the one to order first. Freshwater fish in a coconut and kroeung curry, steamed in a banana-leaf cup until it sets to something between a custard and a mousse. Done properly it is steamed, not stirred in a wok; if it arrives as a loose soupy curry you have been given the shortcut version. Most tourist kitchens serve the shortcut.

Lok lak - cubes of beef seared hard with black pepper, served over salad and rice with a fried egg, and a dipping sauce of lime juice, salt and crushed Kampot pepper. The sauce is the point.

Num banh chok - the breakfast dish, and the one most visitors never eat because it is finished by ten in the morning. Cold rice noodles with a green fish-and-lemongrass gravy, piled with raw banana flower, cucumber, bean sprouts and herbs you tear in yourself. Eaten standing up at a market for about a dollar. This is the single most Cambodian thing on the list.

Kuy teav - the other breakfast, a pork-bone noodle soup you assemble at the table from the condiments in front of you.

Bai sach chrouk - grilled marinated pork over broken rice with pickles and a bowl of clear broth. A dollar fifty, eaten before eight.

Nom krok - coconut-rice cakes cooked in a dimpled pan and eaten hot from paper.

Red tree ants with beef and holy basil - a real dish, not a dare. The ants are sour, like a citrus note, and it is genuinely good.

Psar Leu, the big local market on the eastern side of town, is where Siem Reap actually shops and eats. Morning is the time. This is the place for num banh chok and bai sach chrouk, and it is not set up for visitors, which is the recommendation.

Psar Chas, the old market, is the central one and is half produce, half souvenirs. The food stalls at the back are fine and convenient rather than exceptional.

Kandal Village - the small grid of streets west of the river, where most of the interesting independent kitchens and coffee shops have ended up. Better cooking than Pub Street at similar prices.

The road behind Pub Street. Pub Street itself is what it is - loud, cheap, aimed squarely at people who arrived yesterday - and one street back the same money buys noticeably better food.

What to skip: the buffet-and-Apsara-show packages, where the food is reheated and the dance is an afterthought. If you want the dance, take a proper ticketed performance; if you want the food, go and eat somewhere that does only that.

Cooking classes are unusually good value here, and the good ones start in a market: the guide walks you through the prahok, the palm sugar and the river fish before anything gets cooked, which is where the actual learning is. A class is also the standard rainy-afternoon insurance in the wet months.

Street food safety: the usual rule holds and it is not squeamishness - eat where there is turnover and a queue, prefer things cooked to order in front of you, and be more careful with cut fruit and ice from unbranded sources than with hot food from a busy stall.

Palm wine and palm sugar both come from the sugar palm, the national tree, tapped from the crown twice a day by men who climb a notched pole. The fresh sap is sweet and mild; left a day it ferments into something considerably less mild. You will see the pots tied into the crowns all over the countryside.

Iced coffee in Cambodia is strong, dark, often roasted with butter, and served over ice with condensed milk. Order it *kafe tuk doh koh* and expect it to be sweet.

Sugarcane juice pressed at the roadside for a dollar is the correct answer to a Cambodian afternoon.

Beer is cheap enough that the Pub Street fifty-cent draught is a real thing. Angkor and Cambodia are the two local lagers.

What things cost: a street plate or a bowl of noodles USD 1.50-3; a proper sit-down Khmer meal in a good local restaurant USD 5-8 a head; Kandal Village independents USD 8-15; the handful of ambitious modern-Khmer kitchens USD 25-50. A cooking class runs roughly USD 25-40 including the market walk.

Tipping is not obligatory and is normal in tourist-facing places. Ten percent in a restaurant, and a few dollars at the end of a full day for a tuk-tuk driver who has sat in the heat waiting for you.

If you are building a full trip around this, the 3-day Siem Reap itinerary puts the food walk on the first night deliberately - it is the evening that makes the other three days eat better.