How I Fell for Cambodia Over a Plate of Amok
Her adventure began with Sovann, ABrenna’s local guide and a chef whose infectious grin could brighten even the rainiest monsoon day. On her second morning, Sovann led her to a breezy, open-air kitchen near the Siem Reap River, shaded by banana trees. The cooking class was no ordinary affair—wooden tables were piled with fresh lemongrass, galangal, and kaffir lime leaves, their scents mingling with the humid air. Sovann handed her a mortar and pestle, and they got to work pounding turmeric into a vibrant paste. “This is the heart of amok,” he said, showing her how to fold banana leaves into cups for steaming. As they stirred coconut milk and fish into a creamy curry, the dish came alive—fragrant, velvety, and, as Sarah puts it, “honestly life-changing.” She took one bite and laughed out loud, her spoon hovering in disbelief.
That evening, over a shared plate of their amok under a thatched roof, Sovann opened up about his village near Tonlé Sap Lake, where he’d fished with his father as a boy. Sarah, usually reserved, found herself sharing stories of her own—her love for spicy food, her failed attempts at gardening. “It was like talking to an old friend,” she says. They’re still texting, swapping recipes (her latest amok attempt was “a disaster,” she admits, but Sovann’s encouraging). Their connection turned the class into more than a lesson—it was a bridge to Cambodia’s heart.
Sarah’s boutique hotel was a sanctuary, tucked down a quiet lane. Its courtyard bloomed with lotus flowers, and her room, with teak furniture and silk curtains, felt like a hug after long days. Each morning, breakfast brought mango smoothies, khmer curry, and banh chok noodles, served by staff who remembered her name and her love for extra chili. Sovann’s tours wove food and culture seamlessly. One night, he took her to Pub Street’s night market, where she braved crispy tarantulas (“crunchy, not bad!”) and haggled for a silk scarf, learning Khmer phrases from a vendor with a contagious laugh. Another day, they cycled to Banteay Srei, a temple carved in pink sandstone, where Sarah sketched the intricate bas-reliefs in her journal.
Her favorite moment came unexpectedly: a dawn visit to a pagoda, where she joined locals offering rice to saffron-robed monks. The silence, broken only by soft chants, felt sacred. “I went for the temples, but I stayed for the people,” Sarah says. From Angkor Thom’s stone faces to Sovann’s stories, her week was a tapestry of flavors, friendships, and moments that linger. Ready to cook—and maybe fall in love—with Cambodia? ABrenna Travel’s ready to make it happen.
Note: “honestly life-changing” is an intentional casual exaggeration.
