"How was Thailand?"

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I know people want to hear about what I saw. The Grand Palace in all its opulence. The playfulness of Thai elephants. The gleam of Wat Pho and its intricate detail.

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But as beautiful as those sights were, my most vivid memories are in the crowded streets of Bangkok, fighting off crowds and hunger to try a bowl of Boat Noodles. They're the times I scorched my insides believing I could handle red curry, and the times I nursed my taste buds back to health with a pacifying plate of Hainanese chicken rice. 

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I remember these moments because they were personal. Intimate. Food is the easiest way to connect cultures that have little common ground. Not everyone can speak Thai, or afford a plane ticket, but we can all experience a country's identity through eating. 

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Thailand is extra fascinating due to its diversity: pockets of Middle Eastern and Chinese communities have created their own variants of traditional Thai cuisine, which in turn continues to evolve due to immigrant influence. In this symbiotic relationship, tales of creativity and heritage remain untold. I'll be attempting to fill in the gaps, one food origin story at a time. 

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This is how Bangkok and Chiang Mai have figuratively and literally left me— 

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