One of the greatest joys of living in Thailand—and yes, I’m including the beaches, the people, and the dangerously affordable cost of living—is the food.
But dining here? That’s a whole different experience.
And I don’t just mean swapping burgers and fries for curry and rice. I mean the entire philosophy of eating gets a makeover.
Back home, we tend to treat meals like solo performances. You order your entrée, I order mine, and we sit there guarding our plates like they contain state secrets.
Not so in Thailand.
Here, meals are shared. Communal. A team sport.
Instead of one large, meat-heavy dish (hello, meatloaf, my old friend), the table fills up with a variety of dishes—curries, stir-fried vegetables, soups, maybe something deep-fried for good measure. Everyone gets their own rice, and everything else is fair game.
It’s less “this is my dinner” and more “let’s all enjoy everything.”
It took me a minute to catch on.
In fact, when I first started going out to eat with Pui, I remember thinking, “Wow… she really ordered a lot of food.”
Turns out, she wasn’t over-ordering.
I was under-understanding.
These days, I don’t even pretend to be in charge. I just hand her the menu like a man who has accepted his place in the universe. She orders. I eat. Life is good.
Now, a quick word of caution for my fellow spice enthusiasts.
You may think you like spicy food.
You may even be proud of your tolerance.
Thailand would like a word.
“Spicy” here is not the same as American spicy. It’s not even the same as Mexican spicy. It exists on an entirely different plane—one that involves sweat, self-reflection, and possibly a brief out-of-body experience.
If you value your taste buds (and your dignity), you might consider phrases like “phet nit noi” (a little spicy) or, if you’ve been humbled as I have, “mai phet” (not spicy).
There is no shame in survival.
Now for the real curveball.
Despite what you may expect, chopsticks are not the star of the show here.
In Thailand, the dynamic duo is the fork and spoon.
The fork, however, is not for eating. Oh no—it’s more of a supporting actor. Its job is to gently guide food onto the spoon, which then delivers it to your mouth with quiet efficiency.
No knives. No fuss.
It’s oddly elegant once you get the hang of it.
And while we’re adjusting expectations, don’t go looking for ketchup on the table—unless you’ve wandered into a fast food joint and taken a very wrong turn in your culinary journey.
Which raises an important question:
Why travel halfway around the world to eat like you never left home?
Finally, let’s talk about napkins.
Or, more accurately… suggestions of napkins.
Picture something resembling a single-ply tissue that looks like it might dissolve under emotional pressure alone. You’ll use a few. Possibly many. Consider it part of the experience.
All that said, dining in Thailand isn’t just about the food—it’s about connection. Sharing dishes, trying new flavors, laughing through the occasional “too spicy” moment—it all adds up to something far more memorable than just a meal.
So if you find yourself here, pull up a chair, grab your spoon, and dig in.
Or as they say around here—
gin hai a-roi.
Until next time.
