Eat Laos

If you dine in Laos, don’t expect the familiar sweet tangs of neighbouring Thailand. Here you’ll find spicy yet often bitter dishes are mopped up by generous handfuls of the ubiquitous sticky rice. 

- Audrey Gillan

I’m bashing lemongrass stalks with a wooden baton. The sound of my thwacking mingles with the laughter of children splashing in the pools of the waterfall, just beyond the kitchen where I’m learning about Lao cuisine. My teacher is showing me how to mould a minced pork mixture around the hard, citrusy herb to make delicate kebabs that will be grilled over charcoal.

Vanvisa at the Falls is quite possibly the most spectacularly located cooking class I’ve ever seen. It’s situated at the foot of the glorious Kuang Si Falls, 20 miles south west of Luang Prabang, around a basin ideal for swimming and floating, as the local kids do, in old rubber inner tubes. A bamboo bridge spans the basin, and as I walked across it to reach my class, my heart sang.

Vanvisa is by no means fancy — there are no cookers, just three charcoal-fired burners lined along a rear wall. However, above them an open window looks out onto both the cascades and the stiller aquamarine water below, where butterflies dance in their hundreds and brightly coloured dragonflies hover. The organic gardens here are also spectacular — there are herbs, medicinal plants, fruits and vegetables, all sown by owner Vandara Amphaiphone, co-author of the book Food And Travel Lao.

I’m the only pupil, ably assisted by my jolly driver Sung and guided by Sit Ti Moong Khun, who goes by the nickname Nou. He explains that lemongrass, garlic and onion are the cornerstones of Lao food and that many of the ingredients are from the jungle. He asks me to finely slice barbecue pork, to be used later to make laap, which could be considered the national dish of Laos. We mix spring onion, shallot, chilli, galangal, mint, calamansi juice, soy, sticky rice powder, and the pork and assemble it all into a fragrant salad.