What to Eat in Cambodia

Cambodia’s cuisine grows from its rivers, floodplains, and monsoon rhythm. Tonlé Sap and the Mekong supply abundant freshwater fish, while rice paddies anchor daily meals. Aromatic pastes called kroeung—pounded lemongrass, galangal, turmeric, and kaffir lime—define flavor more than chilies.

Meals are balanced with fresh herbs, seasonal vegetables, and the fermented fish condiment prahok. Grilling over charcoal, gentle steaming, and long-simmered broths suit the tropical heat. Breakfast is hearty and early, lunch is light, and dinner gathers family around shared rice.

Amok trey pairs freshwater fish such as snakehead or catfish with a kroeung of lemongrass, galangal, turmeric, and kaffir lime, enriched by coconut milk, a spoon of prahok, and a beaten egg; the mixture is ladled into folded banana-leaf cups lined with noni or banana leaves, topped with coconut cream, then steamed until the custard-like mousse sets and the aroma becomes fragrant but restrained. The result is tender fish suspended in a silky, gently set curry, more herbal and citrus-forward than spicy, with subtle umami from fermented fish and a finish brightened by julienned kaffir lime leaf, thin slivers of red chili, and Thai basil. Often cited as a national emblem of Khmer cooking and linked to the bounty of Tonlé Sap, amok appears at family celebrations, weddings, and home tables, yet remains a comfort served with rice at midday or dinner in Phnom Penh, Siem Reap, and river towns across the floodplain. River provinces adjust the thickness of the curry and the species of fish according to the season’s catch.

Bai sach chrouk starts with thin slices of pork shoulder or collar marinated in coconut milk or a little milk, palm sugar, garlic, and fish sauce, sometimes touched with light soy; the meat is grilled over charcoal until lightly caramelized and smoky, then served over warm jasmine rice with crisp pickled carrot-and-papaya achar, cucumber, and a small bowl of clear broth with scallions. Each bite balances sweet-salty glaze, pork’s tenderness, and the cool crunch of pickles, while the light soup refreshes in the morning heat and keeps the meal digestible. This is a defining breakfast sold from dawn by curbside grills until trays empty, feeding office workers, market sellers, and students; in Battambang and Phnom Penh it anchors early routines, with vendors slicing quickly so commuters can eat before the sun climbs. The practiced timing of grilling, slicing, and plating reflects a street culture built around efficiency, routine, and the aroma of charcoal in the cool hours before traffic builds.

Kuy teav uses slippery rice noodles in a clear broth simmered from pork bones, dried shrimp, and charred aromatics; bowls are topped with minced pork, sliced pork or offal, sometimes shrimp or fish balls, bean sprouts, fried shallots, scallions, and sawtooth coriander, with a squeeze of lime and a dash of fish sauce. The soup is clean yet savory, with gentle sweetness from long-simmered bones and a customizable edge from condiments such as crushed chili, pickled green chilies, sugar, black pepper, and garlic oil; many vendors also offer a “dry” version with broth served on the side. Called kuy teav Phnom Penh when generously topped, it reflects Teochew-Chinese influence absorbed into Khmer eating habits; most Cambodians enjoy it for breakfast or an early lunch at market stalls in the capital and provincial towns, selecting wet or dry style and adjusting seasoning to the day’s weather and appetite.

Num banh chok begins with freshly pressed rice noodles made from soaked, ground, and fermented rice, blanched to a springy chew; they are heaped with a light green gravy of poached snakehead fish pounded with lemongrass, turmeric, fingerroot, and kaffir lime, sometimes rounded with a touch of prahok and coconut. A basket of vegetables—shredded banana blossom, water lily stems, cucumber, long beans, mint, and basil—lets the eater build texture and temperature, keeping the dish cooling in Cambodia’s humid mornings and ensuring a crisp contrast to the soft noodles. Traditionally sold by roaming vendors who balance pots over shoulder poles, the green version is an everyday breakfast nationwide, while a red curry gravy appears at weddings and festivals; in Siem Reap and rural villages alike, it is eaten early, often with iced tea, before work begins and before the sun heats the streets.

Prahok ktís is a rich dip that tames Cambodia’s assertive fermented fish into a creamy relish: minced pork is sautéed with kroeung aromatics, then prahok is simmered in coconut milk with palm sugar until fragrant and mellow, finished with kaffir lime leaf and a scatter of chili. Thick and spoonable, it is salty-sweet and deeply savory without harshness, designed to be eaten with raw or blanched vegetables like cucumber, cabbage, long beans, young eggplant, and bitter melon, plus warm rice to round out the meal. Households prepare it when new-season prahok is opened and throughout the dry months, making a communal centerpiece for quick lunches; in Kampot and the central plains it underscores the role of fermentation as a larder, stretching the Mekong’s catch through the year and providing a dependable source of flavor when fresh fish is less abundant.

Cambodian cooking is defined by freshwater fish, fragrant kroeung pastes, prahok’s umami, and a preference for balance over heat. Grills, steamers, and clear broths keep meals light in tropical weather while herbs and crisp vegetables add contrast. Explore more grounded food guides and plan travel with weather-smart tools on Sunheron.com to connect dishes with seasons and places.