Cambodia 2007 Article

Cambodia 2007 Article.

Stéphane Delourme, still in his chef’s whites, is smoking a cigarette on the terrace of Phnom Penh’s elegant riverside restaurant Pacharan. The lightning flashes from an electric storm illuminate his face. He is exhausted but content. He raises a glass of white wine and toasts no-one in particular. “We did it! We did it!” he repeats, in his irresistible French accent.

As the culmination of a two-week long Cambodian adventure, part- river safari, part-culinary odyssey, Stephane has just cooked a five- course dinner for 60 guests at one of the city’s hottest restaurants, and the evening has been a triumph.

For 9 years Brittany-born Delourme, has been head chef at Rick Stein’s world-famous Seafood Restaurant in Padstow, Cornwall. Wishing to broaden his culinary horizons, Delourme persuaded Stein to let him take a two-week sabbatical from Cornwall’s finest kitchen and take part in a Culinary Tour of Cambodia, organised by the estimable Wild Frontiers tour company. The company specialises in edgy, off-the-beaten-track destinations and themes.

The plan was to start in Siem Reap, the nearest town to the Temples of Angkor Wat. It was here where I first met Delourme and his friends, while I was staying at the elegantly funky FCC hotel, undoubtedly one of the finest colonial-style hotels in the world. Its cool contemporary-ethnic rooms were the perfect retreat, and the bar was lively but not raucous.

Alongside Delourme, our party of nine included Andrew Ridgeley, formerly George Michael’s partner in the 80’s group Wham! and his ebullient partner Keren Woodward, of Bananarama. Ridgeley is silver-haired now, with a finely-sculpted profile, and enviably dark eyebrows. An unashamed gourmet, he is both venerable and serious, a surfer in his adopted Cornwall who has become a prominent local environmentalist in the cause of water quality. Keren, still singing, still laughing, is the girl who time left alone- bright, gorgeous, and enormous fun.

Our happy band was completed by a caterer, a company director, a toxicologist, a former BBC TV executive, myself and Peter O’Sullivan, the tour leader from Wild Frontiers. Former musician O’Sullivan first went out to Cambodia in the early nineties to clear landmines. He has been going back ever since, as a journalist, tour guide and researcher for Wild Frontiers, and has an encyclopaedic knowledge of Khmer culture and politics.

The temple visits done, our time in Siem Reap was spent trawling the vast fruit, vegetable and fish markets for local produce with our Cambodian guide and translator Vudthy (pronounced “Watti”). The fertile Cambodian land produces mountains of fresh food, and over 300 species of freshwater fish are hauled daily from the Tonle Sap (“Ton-Lay Sap”) Lake and River. The markets are chaotic kaleidoscopes of colour, with laughing-eyed women sitting atop mountains of fruit, salads or herbs, offering samples of their wares to any who stop to look.

As part of our tour we enjoyed a virtuoso four-hour cookery lesson from Sour Vong, head chef at the Shinta Mani hotel. The following day we tried our newly-learned skills at an orphanage on the edge of town run by Vudthy and his brother. We set about chopping, grinding and mixing, and cooked a simple lunch version of Sour Vong’s Fish Amok. The meal was devoured in a fraction of the time that it took to prepare, and the boys then challenged the White Giants to a kickabout in the school yard.

We ended our stay in Siem Reap with a celebratory dinner at the Meric restaurant at the swanky Hotel de la Paix, an exotic degustation menu which featured dried snake with green mango, and grilled stuffed frog, among other Khmer specialities.

At first light we boarded the minibus for the lakeside port of Chong Khneas, a picture-book floating village inhabited mainly by Vietnamese fishing families. Even at 7am the place was seething with activity, and eager porters swarmed to our bus to manhandle our luggage to our waiting boat.

La Cougoule (it means “Pretty Girl” in Marseillaise slang), a 27- metre wooden former river freighter, was bought by her owner, Pierre Legros, five years ago. Now fully renovated, she elegantly plies her trade on the waters of Tonle Sap Lake, from Chong Khneas to Kompong Chhnang on the southern side of the lake. As we pushed off from the jetty, gliding past mangrove and the floating timber houses where the early morning fishing catch was being brought in, the vast expanse of water ranged ahead of us, all the way to the far horizon. The Tonle Sap Lake, in effect a vast floodplain, is over 100km from north to south and, at this time of year, after monsoon, its area is swelled to 16,000km². It provides 75% of Cambodia’s annual fish catch, and downstream it feeds the mighty Mekong River.

The skipper explained that the water level is 10 meters higher at this time of year. What looks like floating vegetation are actually treetops. We were effectively floating through the canopy of the submerged forest- a surreal but exhilarating sensation.

Sometimes a fisherman would noiselessly drift into view, checking his nets, or fixing a trap, his coolie hat sheltering his head and shoulders from the fierce midday sun. A shouted greeting would confirm that he was Vietnamese, not Khmer. The two tribes have been uneasy neighbours for centuries. A wave, then onwards.

We slid ever further through the soupy brown water. Occasionally the surface was broken by the head of a riversnake. “The more of the body you see on the surface, the more poisonous they are” Voudhty helpful explained. Onboard a miraculous lunch appeared, prepared on the most rudimentary gas burner. Fish cakes, green tomatoes with shrimp and glass noodles, fish amok and rice. We sat on the deck, round a low wooden table, and feasted like royalty. Life does not get much better than time spent on a boat with good friends, good food and good weather.

As this was the maiden voyage for Legros, the estimated duration of the trip was rather speculative. He imagined that, we would reach our destination in 7 hours. In fact we did not make landfall for 16 hours, and in that time, lounging with drinks on the deck, we saw the most wonderful sunset and, later, shooting stars in a sky unpolluted by light.

We strayed into a floating village, unearthly and bizarre as we neared it in the total darkness, the sounds of dogs and children and a TV carrying through the still of the night. The layout of the village was so complex and tight that, once in, it was impossible for Legros to manoeuvre the boat out again unaided. With a combination of Khmer, French and Vietnamese phrases he summoned help in the form of a motor skiff with a tie line. Its owner towed us back out to open water and pointed us on our way through the velvet darkness. In all my years of travelling I have rarely felt so far from home as during that exchange.

When we finally made Kompong Chhnang and slung our hammocks, an operatic electric storm picked up, which tossed and pitched the boat for the next two hours. We spent a fitful night buffeted at our mooring, but morning was a revelation.

Kompong Chhnang is a teeming fishing town, and as we peered out into the sunshine we found that our boat was the centre of amused attention. An animated group of locals had gathered on the quayside, hoping to catch a glimpse of the new arrivals having breakfast.

That afternoon we took a fishing boat down the tributaries of the Mekong to see the floating nets and the fish traps. Strung between stilted houses, the traps are cunningly designed so the fish can swim in, but not out. When the level of the lake drops in February or March, the haul can be picked by hand from the traps and transported to quayside market, where all types of spanking fresh fish lie stacked like silver bullion.

Less appetizing, at least to a Western palate, are the 21-day old duck eggs which can be picked up as a snack. Cooked for three hours, the unsuspecting snacker finds that, as well as the hard-boiled yolk, the shell contains a part-fertilised duck, beak and feathers and all. In the interest of research Delourme tried a little, while the rest of us looked on aghast. The local children encouraged him to finish it, telling him in exaggerated mime that it would make him strong and energetic, but even the intrepid Frenchman was beaten by this offering.

From Kompong Chhnang we drove overland past rice fields, sugar palm and cashew plantations, to Phnom Penh, where we met Ant Alderson, the British co-owner of The FCC hotels in Siem Reap and Phnom Penh. The FCC was formerly known by its more familiar name, the Foreign Correspondents Club. A boutique hotel and bar/restaurant, it enjoys a prime riverfront location with enviable views up and downstream. The elegant pillared dining room, in cream and dark wood, cooled by ceiling fans, is straight out of Graham Greene or Somerset Maugham, two former patrons. Peter O’Sullivan suggested that a gala evening at one of the FCC’s restaurants, featuring Stéphane as a guest chef, might be a good way to round off the trip. Alderson agreed, hammered out a few details such as numbers, budgets and staff, and a date was set.

The final leg of our expedition took us west, to the coastal towns of Kampot and Kep, near the Vietnam border. Kampot was once a thriving market town, the main port of entry for imported goods, and a stronghold of the Chinese mercantile class. The town also boasts some fine Art Deco and Modernist architecture, though much was destroyed by shelling and mortar fire from the Khmer Rouge in the 70s.

The great Cambodian modernist architect Vann Molyvann built many fine buildings in Cambodia. Born in Kampot, he studied with Le Corbusier in Paris. In nearby Kep he built the King’s summer residence, high on a hill with mutli-level terraces, gardens and a breathtaking view of the bay and Vietnam beyond

Equally splendid and available to mere mortals, is the Knai Bang Chatt hotel in Kep. Three fabulous stucco modernist villas, lovingly restored, look out over an infinity pool to the sea. In pastel pinks and blues they would be at home in any book of “Modernism’s Greatest Hits”. We dined on barracuda carpaccio and clams with tamarind, in an outdoor dining-room overlooking the sea, as another electric storm wrought havoc on the sea. An unforgettable experience. Stephane Delourme was inspired by the local seafood, and the next day we went shopping for crabs to take back to Phnom Penh for the dinner at Pacharan.

Back in Phnom Penh a stiff hot northerly wind blew the flags along the promenade ragged. Anthony Alderson casually announced to Stephane that every one of the sixty places at the Pacharan had been booked by the great and the good of Phnom Penh, and Delourme gave a gallic whistle through his teeth and began dressing the crabs. INFO BOX

[email protected] Mobile 07935222232 and home 01841541353

The Seafood Restaurant Riverside Padstow Cornwall PL28 8BY

TEL: 01841 532700 FAX: 01841 532942

Email: [email protected]

Wild Frontiers

The next Cambodia Culinary Tour: Price: £2200 (all inc. ex international flights LHR-BKK-LHR) 15 Days, Sat 11 Oct to Sat 25 Oct 2008

Wild Frontiers details: Wild Frontiers Adventure Travel Ltd Unit 6, Townmead Business Centre William Morris Way London SW6 2SZ T: 00 44 (0) 20 7736 3968 [email protected]

FCC Hotel -Siem Reap and Phnom Penh

Rooms USD100 - 150 Siem Reap USD 55 - 80 Phnom Penh [email protected] Ant Alderson mobile +85512916366

Knai Bang Chatt Hotel, Kep

Double Rooms $146-255 (low season)-$224/392 (high season) per night Low season 1 May- 30 September High season 1 October- 30 April

For any enquiries or reservations, contact Stephane Arrii at +855 12879486 or by email: [email protected] address: Phum Thmey Sangkat Prey Thom Khan Kep, Kep City POB 9809 Cambodia