Budget food for the discerning (i.e. pov) Laos visitor
Laap is a Laotian salad made with minced meat, finely chopped long beans and a number of piquant herbs and spices that give it a salty, yet sweet and lemony flavour. It’s delicious, tasty and – best of all – cheap and we’ve been eating a lot of it.
However for the last couple of days we’ve laid off the laap after the arrival of a kind benefactor in the form of my dad. Lavish on his holidays, as is his wont, he descended into our lives like Marie Antoinette, complete with doting entourage but without the giant powdered wig, shouting: “Let them eat steak!” So we did, and very nice it was too.
Two delightful days with dad in Luang Prabang didn’t just remind me of the delights of home (and rich food) but also gave me a chance to show him the best bits of our lucky life out here in Asia – and where better to do it in the place that the Lonely Planet describes as ‘the most photogenic city in Asia’.
Luang Prabang is seemingly one of the truly blessed places in the world, having avoided the devastation wreaked on other major cities in the Indo-Chinese (Vietnam) war. Its confines are still full of wats, stupas and colonial mansions, complete with shutters, columns and colonnades. Its streets are still full of bright-orange-clad boy-monks going about their business, parasols up to protect their shaved heads from the unrelenting sunshine.
At the confluence of two rivers: the mighty Mekong and the unassuming Nam Khan, it seems there is no part of the city where a delightful river-view is not seconds away. Many of these views can be taken in from the excellent restaurants, which we sampled with glee in Dad’s company instead of the usual laap.
Hot food and French buildings: a delicious combination
The pick of these is ‘L’Elephant’ – a perfect mix of French style and food with the laid back friendliness of Laos. Dining on the terrace here, you feel that you could be on a hot August evening in Paris, perhaps, were it not for such delights on the menu as Luang Prabang sausages or steak tartare of buffalo. The latter of these came (ordered by me for a slightly bemused Jamie) with a handful of whole green peppercorns and the requisite egg yolk served in a specially carved ‘egg cup’ made of cucumber.
There was nothing unusual about my French onion soup, except that I have rarely had it so flavourful, so cheesy and delicious outside of France. And Dad – who, without exception, orders the soup and the fish at every restaurant – pronounced the Mekong-plucked perch to be ‘delicious’. High praise from the connoisseur. What with the addition of a few large Beer Lao, of course, and brandies at the end for the boys (each costing more than our hotel room for the night), we left the table a very happy party indeed.
On the last day of Dad’s visit I joined his party for a walking tour of the city. This was remarkable not least for the beauty of the temples and many golden Buddhas, but for me the luxury of having a guide. Usually if an explanation for something is not in my guidebook I find that I have to ask a million questions of everybody usually until I find out what I want so being spoon fed information (and having a captive expert) was delightful.
It was a bit of a rude shock to wave goodbye to Dad with a tear and to go back to reality. A bit sad there’ll be no more of that delicious tasty rich food (my digestion is secretly pleased). Very sad to say goodbye to Dad for another 8 months or so. And most of all shocked to realise how much living on the road has become home and our tiny budget is natural to us now. And I’m not complaining – I do really like the Laap.
