Cambodia chefs go in search of forgotten flavours as renaissance in Khmer cuisine gathers pace

Mudfish, sardines or anchovies are first cleaned and descaled before being placed in a basket and then crushed underfoot. What remains is left out in the sun to dry for 24 hours, salted and stored in jars to ferment for weeks or even months on end.

This is prahok, and it’s no surprise that the beloved staple condiment of Cambodian cuisine can be hard for visitors to stomach, with its huge and unsubtle whack of funk and flavour, not to mention a distinct and unforgettable aroma.

There is, however, a lot more to Cambodia’s food, and a wave of restaurants are taking Khmer cuisine in new and exciting directions that show diversity in produce and technique while staying true to their earthy roots.

Those roots are tangled. In the 1960s and early 1970s, Cambodia was a highly fashionable destination whose cuisine looked outwards; chefs blended local produce and techniques with colonial French and global influences. It also boasted some of the finest restaurants in Southeast Asia.

Then, however, came the unspeakable tragedy of the brutal Khmer Rouge regime: 1.7 million people were executed or died from disease and starvation. To eat anything more than the most basic food was seen as bourgeois and risked the diner being reported to the country’s new rulers.