What to Eat in Laos: A Food Traveler’s Guide

Laos is landlocked yet river-laced, with the Mekong shaping fertile valleys and fish-rich markets. A monsoon climate yields sticky rice harvests, foraged herbs, and mushrooms from forested hills. Grilling, steaming, and mortar-pounding define home kitchens and street stalls alike.

Meals revolve around sharing and texture: chewy sticky rice, crisp raw greens, and aromatic broths. Fermented seasonings, especially padaek (unfiltered fish sauce), lend deep savoriness. Fresh dill, lemongrass, galangal, and banana leaves express a cuisine tied to seasons and regional microclimates.

Khao niaow (glutinous rice) is soaked, then steamed in a conical bamboo basket called a huad set over a pot of boiling water. Once cooked, it’s fluffed and kept warm in a lidded bamboo container, the thip khao, ready to be pinched into small balls and used to scoop dips, salads, and grilled meats. Its subtly sweet aroma and satisfyingly chewy texture shape the rhythm of Lao meals, balancing salty, sour, and spicy flavors without diluting them. Culturally, sticky rice is a staple identity food—offered at temples, served at baci ceremonies, and eaten throughout the day at home or on the road. The preference for glutinous varieties suits the country’s upland fields and monsoon cycles, and its hand-held serving style fosters communal eating that defines Lao table manners.

Laap (also spelled larb or laab) blends finely chopped meat or fish—commonly pork, chicken, beef, duck, or river fish—with shallots, mint, cilantro, and scallions. Toasted sticky rice is ground into khao khua, which adds nutty aroma and a faint crunch; the meat is either gently cooked or mixed raw and dressed with lime juice, fish sauce, chiles, and a measured touch of padaek. The result is bright, herbal, and savory, with heat balanced by citrus and the toasted grain’s depth. Laap carries auspicious meaning and appears at celebrations and baci blessings as a symbol of prosperity and good fortune. It’s eaten with sticky rice and a side of raw, bitter, and aromatic greens, and is common at midday or dinner in households and markets across the country.

Tam mak hoong starts with a heavy wooden mortar (khok) and pestle: garlic and fresh chiles are pounded first, followed by yardlong beans, cherry tomatoes, and fine shreds of unripe papaya. Seasoning leans savory—fish sauce and the funky depth of padaek—rounded by lime juice and, in many Lao versions, little to no added sugar. The salad is lightly bruised rather than pulverized, preserving papaya’s squeaky crunch and yielding a dressing that is hot, salty, sour, and deeply umami. It’s a signature street and market food, assembled to order and tailored for heat tolerance, often paired with sticky rice and grilled chicken or fish. As a daily snack or quick lunch, it showcases Laos’s mortar-pounding technique and reliance on fresh, seasonal produce from riverside gardens and markets.

Mok pa features boneless river fish rubbed with a paste of lemongrass, galangal, chiles, and padaek, then folded with dill (phak si), scallions, and kaffir lime leaves. The seasoned fish is wrapped in banana leaves into a tight parcel and steamed—or gently grilled over coals—so it cooks in its own fragrant juices. Many cooks bind the filling with a spoon of rice powder or beaten egg, yielding a moist, almost custardy texture that contrasts with bright herbal aromas. Dill, unusually prominent in Lao cooking, gives mok pa its distinctive character. The dish suits the humid climate—steaming keeps kitchens cool and preserves delicate fish—and it travels well for market lunches or family dinners. Served with sticky rice and raw greens, it’s everyday fare with clear Mekong roots.

Or lam is a northern stew associated with Luang Prabang that marries buffalo or chicken with small eggplants, mushrooms, lemongrass, chilies, and mai sakhaan, a pepperwood vine that imparts a warming, tingling heat. Cooks often char aromatics and eggplants before simmering, building a faint smokiness, and finish with dill or lemon basil and a spoon of toasted sticky rice powder to thicken. The broth is savory and earthy, punctuated by sakhaan’s numbing prickle and the gentle sweetness of vegetables that have absorbed roasted aromas. Historically linked to royal and regional kitchens, or lam remains a cool-season favorite and a ceremonial dish in northern households. It’s ladled alongside sticky rice, with diners alternating bites of stew and pinches of rice, and it appears at village gatherings, home kitchens, and market stalls across Luang Prabang.

Laotian cooking is defined by sticky rice, mortar-pounded salads, herb-forward steams and grills, and the savory backbone of padaek. Seasonal produce, river fish, and foraged greens keep menus tied to place. If this tasting tour sparked ideas, explore more food-focused guides and plan weather-smart travel using Sunheron’s filters.