Amok trei or fish amok is a Cambodian steamed fish curry with an almost mousse-like texture when cooked properly. Travellers to Cambodia are told by tour guides and hotel and restaurant staff that fish amok is Cambodia’s national dish and a must-try specialty when visiting the Kingdom. But how do you know that what you’re eating is an ‘authentic’ rendition? And does it matter?
Most versions of amok trei or fish amok that you’ll find in restaurants on Pub Street in the tourist heart of Siem Reap are not what Cambodians, especially Cambodian chefs and older Cambodian home cooks, would consider a true amok trei.
The ancient Khmer word ‘amok’ means to steam in banana leaf; ‘trei’ means fish. Yet most ‘amoks’, as the dish is often referred to by foreign visitors, are little more than watery curries and are not even made with the correct kroeung herb and spice paste, let alone steamed and having rise like a soufflé.
So what is amok trei or fish amok? And what does it matter if it’s not always served the traditional way? Cuisines evolve, right? Right. But food, and particularly an ancient food that’s so beloved by its people – especially its older cooks – is imbued with meaning. It’s so much more than a dish to be tailored to and consumed by foreign tourists.
Here are our thoughts on the ruining of amok, and the corruption of Cambodia’s national dish, amok trei or fish amok. And here’s our ‘authentic’ fish amok recipe. Heavily researched, tried, tested, and tried again.
Ruining Amok, The Corruption of Cambodia’s National Dish Amok Trei or Fish Amok
A food blogger who recently visited Cambodia told us she was confused because she ate fish amok four times on her trip and it was different each time she tasted it. Sure, there are regional variations, but when we looked at her photos on social media, none of the dishes she had tried in any way resembled a genuine fish amok.
This is true for most visitors to Cambodia who only eat at tourist restaurants. It’s very likely that visitors ordering fish amok will have an insipid yellow fish curry placed in front of them. It probably won’t have as its base a freshly-pounded kroeung prepared in house in a mortar and pestle, but a commercial paste that can be stored indefinitely in a fridge.
For a busy restaurant that’s preferable to having to make a fresh batch of paste each day. It could even taste like a mild Thai green curry rather than a Cambodian curry – because it’s probably been made from a diluted Thai green curry paste, as that’s what tourists are more familiar with. Very few visitors to Cambodian have even eaten Cambodian food before arriving in the country.
Your fish amok might be served in a banana leaf cup or in a coconut shell to look like it might have been steamed, but it probably hasn’t been, because that ties up the busy chef who has to make it and then wait while it steams for 25 or 30 or even 40 minutes. This is not only a whole lot longer than the ten minutes it takes to make the curry, but most temple-tired tourists don’t want to wait 25 minutes for a dish, let alone 40 minutes.
God only knows what kind of fish is in your tourist restaurant ‘amok’. That’s if, of course, you haven’t, heaven forbid, ordered chicken, tofu or a beef amok. None of these are an ‘authentic’ amok according to Cambodian cuisine purists, such as the elderly ladies from a long line of old cooks, including a chef to a king, whom we interviewed extensively for our Cambodian cookbook and Cambodian culinary history some years ago.
On our travels over the years, I’ve consistently searched for the canonical recipes for the quintessential dishes of the places we’ve settled into. In many ways it’s a fool’s errand – albeit a continually fascinating one – for as soon as I believe I have identified the recipe, the essential ingredients, and the correct techniques for how a dish should be made, I discover yet another recipe or I’m confronted with a new opinion on how a particular dish came about or should be cooked.
Obviously food evolves, which is why ‘authenticity’ is such a loaded term. Food travels, even more than we do. Dishes take a journey and change little by little along the way, and as they transform a cuisine evolves – though not always for the better. Still, there are dishes that seem to never change or change very little over time, and Cambodia, home to some of Southeast Asia’s oldest empires, is also home to some of the region’s oldest dishes.
After we settled in Southeast Asia back in 2011, before each new trip we’d go out and buy the best reviewed cookbook of the destination – not necessarily to cook from it right away, but rather to get an idea of the popular dishes and ingredients and cooking methods used.
We did just that after we moved to Cambodia in 2012. Here, amok trei is the dish that delivers the most diverse sets of history, ingredients and cooking methods. The Lonely Planet Cambodia guidebook even insists it is ‘baked’. It’s not. And the guy who wrote that book lives in Cambodia and has a Cambodian wife.
The difference in cooking methods – and no, baking isn’t one of them; most Cambodians don’t have ovens – can be attributed to socioeconomic circumstances. These days, the poorer the people, the more likely the dish is to be served as a curry, rather than steamed. But it will still be called ‘amok trei’ because cooks are using the same ‘amok trei’ herb and spice paste to make the dish.
We’ve visited homes in small villages around Siem Reap where they have prepared amok trei as a wet curry. After a long, hard day in the rice fields, it’s far easier to make a pot of curry, using the same ingredients (minus the contentious eggs) than it is to follow what was traditionally a complex process with a steaming time of up to 40 minutes.
However, to make amok trei correctly – according to our elderly Cambodian cooks in Battambang whose stories we are telling in our cookbook – involves not only pounding the kroeung in a mortar and pestle, but massaging the paste into the fish for a substantial length of time (they maintain an hour of massaging is necessary!), then setting it aside to marinate before transferring the curried fish mixture into individual banana leaf ‘cups’ (more like ‘bowls’) for steaming.
Our little old ladies, and dozens of other Cambodians we’ve interviewed over the years argue that the fish must be snakehead fish and that the base of the ‘cup’ must have a layer of morinda citrifolia leaves. Often called noni leaves in English, in Khmer they are called nhor.
We’ve made fish amok in cooking classes, we’ve been to villages to talk to locals about how amok trei is made, we’ve spoken to chefs about the key ingredients and cooking process, and we’ve eaten it more times than we care to remember, and we still order it in restaurants when it’s on the menu. It’s heavenly when done properly.
The amok trei made by our little old ladies in Battambang is the most sublime we’ve ever tasted by a wide margin and most canonical from our research. The closest and finest restaurant version in Cambodia is chef Kethana’s at Sugar Palm, Siem Reap. You should order it immediately upon sitting down as it’s made from scratch and will take up to 40 minutes.
One Cambodian restaurateur we cooked with was very proud of this old Cambodian dish, yet he had a chicken amok on the menu, knowing full well that this was never actually a Khmer dish. His reasoning was that many diners wanted to sample amok but they didn’t eat fish and he still “needed to make money”.
Like many restaurants in Siem Reap he couldn’t resist the appeal of the tourist dollar and had indeed introduced a range of ‘amoks’, including ‘beef amok’, ‘vegetarian amok’, and, yes, ‘tofu amok’. Pride in a classic dish takes a back seat when you have vegetarians and anti-pescatarians enter your restaurant and you have to not only feed them, but ultimately, your family.
When we told the Battambang ladies about the different versions of amok that are served across the country they were horrified. The eldest of the matriarchs, who spoke some English and was fluent in French, even clutched her chest as she translated this shocking story into Khmer to her elderly cousins and family and neighbours who were assisting with the cooking that day.
If we had have just walked into the kitchen as she delivered this devastating news, we might have suspected she was announcing to the gathering that a beloved family member had died.
For cooks of an older generation, there is nothing but fish amok and the dish is not ‘amok’ unless it’s steamed. For these Cambodians, the corruption of their centuries-old dish is a threat to their culinary heritage, cultural traditions and cultural identity, as much as to their sense of taste.
What do you think? Would you order chicken amok? Should visitors take some responsibility for the preservation of culinary traditions?
Hi Lara – Love your site! We retired early a year ago, sold up and are now travelling full-time around Asia (slowly).
It’s great to read your accommodation reviews. Most of the travel blogs are for backpackers on a shoe string so it’s nice to get recommendations for more upscale places. We’ll be in Cambodia from the beginning of May so will be making full use of all the info in your blog – Certainly looking forward to trying the real amok.
Hi Adrienne – Good on you! Sounds like a great trip! And thank you so much for the kind words! So pleased you’re finding the site useful. Do get in touch with us when you’re here and don’t hesitate to let us know if you have any questions. Happy to meet for a coffee/drink.
What an interesting read with great integration of socio-cultural and economic factors that affected the transformation of the dish all these years.
I’ve only had full-steamed fish amok at Sugar Palm, and most versions I’ve had were semi-steamed. I’ve also recently received a photo of fish amok, which I think was on R&D phase, from a Cambodian chef and it’s also semi-steamed.
I think it’s also a big issue that some writers cover Cambodian cuisine despite their lack of familiarity of the cuisine. This practice spreads wrong information about fish amok, and the cuisine in general.
Thanks, Cathie :) I’ve since discovered a whole lot more about the history of the dish, which will go into the book we’re writing. When we first came to Siem Reap for a story in 2011 or 2012, everywhere where we had it, fish amok was fully steamed. We mainly stayed at luxury five star hotels, like Raffles (our first trip was for a magazine story), where they do Royal Khmer Cuisine, where it must be steamed. Before that, in Phnom Penh, on our very first trip to Cambodia, we had it at Malis, Romdeng, Sugar Palm, and another restaurant in Phnom Penh that no longer exists and they were all fully steamed. It’s only in recent years that it’s become more acceptable, mainly among younger chefs, to not steam it properly or simply serve it as a curry. I blame some of the cookbooks published by Western publishers, too, as they mainly have a recipe for the amok curry, unfortunately. I’m going to do more research in Siem Reap and see how other restaurants are doing it here these days and I’ll report back.
I’m currently in Siem Reap for the Summer and am planning on heading to Battambang within the next month. Do the four women in Battambang you mentioned sell their Amok and if they do, where might I find them? I would love to try some authentic steamed Amok!
Hello Leighton
The women we interviewed in Battambang for our cookbook don’t make it to sell to the public. To try Cambodia’s most authentic ‘amok trei’ (steamed fish curry – ‘amok’ means to steam and ‘trei’ is fish), then go to Sugar Palm restaurant here in Siem Reap: https://grantourismotravels.com/2016/07/26/best-siem-reap-cambodian-restaurants/
In Battambang, you’ll find a little lady outside the central market in the heart of town, Psar Naht, selling the street food version, similar to Hor Mok in Thailand, in the evenings. She’s right near the BBQ stalls and usually just has a tray or two. These aren’t as refined or as rich as Kethana’s at Sugar Palm, but according to the old ladies we interview are more authentic and closer to the old style than the amok trei you mostly find in restaurants, which hasn’t been steamed for long enough. https://grantourismotravels.com/2014/07/12/our-guide-to-eating-and-drinking-in-battambang/
And when you get back home you can try your hand at making our recipe: https://grantourismotravels.com/2017/05/23/cambodian-fish-amok-recipe/
Enjoy your time in Cambodia and let us know if you have any more questions. I have great guides and drivers if you need them.
Thank you so much! I found her as well as a plethora of desserts at Psar Naht!
Hi Leighton, that’s great to hear! Yes, so much good food in Battambang. But did you get to try Sugar Palm’s amok trei before you left? That really is the one I use as the benchmark by which to compare all others. If not, try to get to their Phnom Penh resto if you’re heading south.
Dear Laura, I have not yet but I am in Siem Reap for the next month (I am currently interning at the Center for Khmer Studies, CKS) and I will make sure to get there!
Ah, fantastic! If they still have a mailing list, can you put me back on it? I used to receive newsletters/updates from them years ago – they used to hold public talks every now and again (do they still?) – but haven’t received anything in years. It’s laradunston(at)me.com. I’m a food/travel writer/journalist. Thanks!
Yes I will try my best when I go!
I became a vegetarian as soon as I discovered Theravāda Buddhism in Thailand and Cambodia. Even though monks should take whatever they’re formally offered, I, as a lay person, found no reason to _want_ to support the slaughter of sentient beings if I could get my nutrients otherwise. I think those ladies, presumably Buddhists, need not be so horrified that there is now a vegetarian version of amok; in Thailand, where there’s more of a local Buddhist vegetarian cuisine, that’s precisely what they do, just changing a few ingredients.
Hello Aung, that the elderly Cambodian ladies in Battambang are horrified that there are vegetarian versions of amok trei has nothing to do with vegetarianism. Their concern is with the loss of culinary heritage due to foreign tourism. (Not that they’ve had reason be concerned in the last few years, with the dearth of tourists.) Restaurants are making vegetarian versions of the ancient steamed fish curry to please foreign tourists, not to please vegetarian Buddhists, Cambodian or Thai or otherwise. There are plenty of other vegetarian dishes, so there’s no need to change anything in amok trei is their thinking.
The old ladies are Buddhists, obviously, and like most good Buddhists endeavour to follow Buddha’s teachings. As you’d know, Buddha was not a vegetarian and it wasn’t a prerequisite for people who want to be Buddhists to be vegetarian. The earliest documented teachings in the Pali Canon, the Buddhist scriptures, particularly the Vinaya Pitaka, one of the Books of Discipline, describe rules for Buddhist monks and nuns, with loads of references to food and what Buddhist monks/nuns can/can’t do. They’re definitely forbidden from eating some kinds of animals, including wild animals such as elephants, tigers, bears, and snakes, as well as horses and dogs, but not all animals. They’re also forbidden from killing living creatures when the intention is to kill, so the purpose is key; if a laymen’s intention is to obtain food to survive, that’s a different story.
Having said that, the Cambodian diet has historically been largely a vegetarian one — Cambodians have long eaten a lot of foraged leaves, roots and flowers, ingredients such as bamboo shoots, palm heart, morning glory etc — and still do so in much of the countryside. Most Cambodians have not eaten meat or much meat, which was largely reserved for the elites and special occasions. Go into the countryside and you won’t have any trouble finding vegetarian food, and I’d argue it’s far easier here than Thailand, where the population is greater and there are far more urban areas.
Cambodia’s Khmer people have been following Theravāda Buddhism since around the 6th century, although most also believe in animism, and keeping in mind that their ancestors arrived here 4,000 years ago, bringing rice to the region, when they likely followed animism, they’re going to be the harder beliefs to shake off :) Of course, historically they followed Hinduism for a while, too, so there is definitely a syncretic or hybrid spirituality here that’s not nearly as great as it is in present-day Thailand. The Thais, of course, didn’t arrive to the land we now know as Cambodia and Thailand until much later, between the 11th-13th centuries from Southern China. Although you’ll still find many Thai-Khmer in Northeast Thailand, in the Isaan region (‘Isan’ of course meaning ‘Khmer’ before it meant ‘northeast’), where they pretty much largely follow a Khmer/Cambodian diet, except for their love of fiery chillies, which isn’t as great here in Cambodia.
Also worth noting that good Buddhists in Cambodia, when they can, follow uposatha or observance days, when they try to get to a pagoda to make offerings, listen to the monk’s sermons, meditate etc, and stick to veggies that day.
As for Thais “just changing a few ingredients”, like the elderly Cambodian ladies in Battambang, Thais who are also passionate about their culinary heritage and traditions, and loss of it in the face of modernisation and globalisation, also wouldn’t change a few ingredients to make a treasured old dish a vegetarian dish. Rather, they’d just eat vegetarian dishes.
Thanks for dropping by to share your thoughts.
Thank you for your comments. I knew that there is a slaughtering ban on Uposatha days, but not that temple-goers do include vegetarianism among their practices.
Just to clarify: I didn’t mean to imply that vegetarianism is a prerequisite for Buddhists. I was rather trying to point out that the adaptation of meat/fish dishes is commonplace elsewhere; in fact, it happens in most East and Southeast Asian “Buddhist cuisines”, whether Chinese, Vietnamese or Thai.
It’s clear that the Buddha accepted offerings of meat if the animal was not specifically killed for him (and did not belong to those species you mention, though some historians consider this a later development). It is also clear that he promoted universal compassion and discouraged depriving sentient beings of life, whatever the reason. In this respect, as in many others, he left basic principles that different societies and individuals are bound to enact differently, according to their circumstances—spanning from the traditional veganism of Chinese monastics to the meat-heavy diet of Tibet.
Hi Aung, re the adaption of dishes for vegetarians, sure, a lot of younger Cambodian chefs are adapting dishes for vegetarians/vegans, there are vegan/vegetarian restaurants, and many hotels now offer vegan menus here in Cambodia. And let’s face it: cuisine does evolve. Some traditional dishes do stay the same or very similar over centuries, others are continually evolving, which is why ‘authenticity’ is such a loaded term. But your question was originally to do with the old ladies from Battambang and why they were horrified, and that’s because they lost so much of their culture and culinary heritage during the Khmer Rouge period and they’re trying to protect what is left. As far as they’re concerned, there are plenty of dishes that vegetarians can eat instead of messing with one of their most treasured dishes :)