A breakfast epiphany in Bangkok, Thailand

Suksanari school, Bangkok

At 16, restless and seeking worldly wisdom, I decided to participate in an exchange program that would entail spending a year in Thailand with a local family and attending an all-girl highschool.

I was welcomed by the sweetest and most patient host family I could have hoped for, the Orapuns, who lived in the residential district of Thonburi, west of the Chao Praya River in Bangkok, or Khrung Thep in Thai language*.

Sunday mornings at my mom's

The first of many cultural shocks came at breakfast. Born and raised in the north east of France in the early 90’s, the first meal of the day usually consisted of off-brand cereals and milk, or sweet tartines of baguette, butter and jam, eaten in a hurry at the kitchen table before heading off to school. Croissants, pains au chocolat and brioche were a special treat, an extravagance limited to Sundays only. Breakfast always was a sweet affair, the savoury never made an appearance before lunch time in my family: even my brother’s penchant for salted butter was laughed off for being an odd quirk. 

Morning routines in Thailand were a revolution. The entire family would wake up at 5 in an effort to thwart Bangkok’s infamous traffic. Fresh out of the shower, I would slather my body in talc powder to absorb the sweat that would inevitably start pouring out at soon as I set foot outside, then put on my uniform and jump into my host dad Suntorn’s SUV, followed by my two host sisters, Nong Nut and Nong Dear. Along the way, Suntorn would sometimes stop at a favoured street vendor’s stall to buy us a pile of steaming Pa Tong Goh, crunchy, savoury donuts in the shape of a x, served along a condensed milk and pandan dip.

Pa Tang Goh street food master

Not me

The real culinary adventure though only started once we reached our destination. At 6.30, Suksanari school would open its doors to thousands of ravenous Thai girls dressed identically, rushing to the open air food court to fill up before the raising of the flag, national anthem and school assembly all began. Over a dozen of bustling food stalls would offer hot noodle soups, rice porridge with pork and egg, chicken rice glistening with fat, and plenty more unfamiliar, strange-looking options, all savoury, all deeply unappetizing to a 16-year-old raised on Frosties and toast.

On my first school day, I spotted a stall that seemed to be selling cereal.The relief! The joy! I dashed to the counter and pointed at my sugary carb of choice. The lady behind the counter smiled benevolently and then proceeded to crush all of my hopes and dreams within a hot second by piling up a mountain of ACTUAL ICE into a bowl, topping it with a mere sprinkle of cereal, and smothering the whole thing in a sea of sweetened condensed milk.

Sitting at one of the communal tables, the crunch of ice between my teeth deafened by the buzz of schoolgirls' squeals and chit chat, I contemplated my mistakes.

I mourned the temporary loss of familiarity. Pillowy baguette and strawberry jam would simply not happen here, and in fact, experiencing a cultural earthquake, being exposed to different ways of life had been the very reason why I wanted to leave France behind. Why was this concept so much harder to stomach first thing in the morning?

I resolved to look forward, and to try everything at least once.

Eating in Thailand entirely changed my relationship with food and it started with breakfast. As weeks went by, I started craving the comforting richness of Khao Man Gai (the Thai version of Hainanese chicken, served with rice cooked in chicken fat, chicken broth on the side and sweet, hot sauces to customize your plate), Khao Kai Jeow, a deep-fried omelet served over rice, I got addicted to munching on green mango with chilies and salt, to Khanom Khrauk, a savoury coconut/rice mini-pancake, and finally to one of my personal favourites, Jok, a mushy rice porridge often topped with pork and a runny egg.

Without further ado, here is a recipe for a pretty authentic and easy to make jok, serving two.

Luscious-looking jok

Ingredients

Pork:

125 g ground pork

1/2 tbsp soy sauce

1/2 tsp fish sauce

1 tsp sugar

1/4 tsp white pepper

Rice:

1/2 cup broken or regular jasmine rice

3-4 cups water

Assembly:

1 cup good pork stock

2 cups rice base

ground pork

2 tsp soy sauce

1/2 tsp salt

2 eggs

Garnish:

Julienned ginger

White pepper

Chopped green onions and/or cilantro

Method:

For the pork: process all ingredients in a food processor until paste-y

For the rice base: Bring water to a boil, add rice and stir occasionally. Once rice starts to thicken, stir constantly until the rice reaches the desired consistency (thick and porridge-like)

For the soft-boiled egg: Cook egg 6 minutes in simmering water, then plunge in ice water and veeeery carefully peel.

To assemble: Bring pork stock to a boil and add the ground pork in bite-sized chunks. Season the stock with soy sauce and salt. When the pork is half way done, add the rice base and stir to break up lumps. When the pork is done and the rice is well mixed, remove from heat.

To serve:  Crack the soft boiled egg into the serving bowl and then pour in the jok. Top with white pepper, ginger, and green onions/cilantro.

I hope you'll love it as much as I do.

Actual picture of me in traditional attire
looking bangin' and very much at ease- 2007

*Fun fact! Bangkok's full name is in fact pronounced something like this:

Krungthepmahanakhon Amonrattanakosin Mahintharayutthaya Mahadilokphop Noppharatratchathaniburirom Udomratchaniwetmahasathan Amonphimanawatansathit Sakkathattiyawitsanukamprasit, which translates to City of angels, great city of immortals, magnificent city of the nine gems, seat of the king, city of royal palaces, home of gods incarnate, erected by Vishvakarman at Indra's behest. :)