A nervous beginner’s honest take on Thai cooking, fiery chillies, bustling markets, and the small triumph of not burning dinner.
I’m not exactly known for my cooking skills, so when I find myself in Chiang Mai and decide to sign up for a cooking class, I’m nervous to say the least. Still, I do it anyway. It feels like one of those things you should try when you’re in Chiang Mai.
All I really know is that I’ll be picked up from my hotel at 3.30pm and driven to a scenic location, where I’ll be cooking alongside other (hopefully) lovely tourists. Preferably ones who are just as lost in the kitchen as I am. I step into the minivan and immediately meet two nice guys, and from our very first conversation I get the feeling this is going to be fun. I’m optimistic. Three couples join us shortly after, and although I suddenly feel a bit — okay, very — single, it’s all quickly overshadowed by our host.
Alley, which isn’t her real Thai name, is just as hilarious as the reviews promised. She takes over the bus within seconds, joking with everyone, and when we’re dropped off at the local market, she almost runs ahead in excitement. I find it slightly mind-blowing that she hosts two cooking classes a day — working around fifteen hours daily — and still radiates this much energy.
She leads us to a vegetable stall and explains that if the prices seem surprisingly low, it’s because this is where the locals shop. Much cheaper than the tourist spots. We look at, smell, and touch the vegetables we’ll later be cooking with — many of them completely new to me. When she pulls out the chillies, I almost need a bathroom break just from the sight. I’ve been living in Thailand for five months now, and I’m still that Western tourist who says “no spicy!” every single time I order food. I do learn, though, that Thai cooking uses several different types of chillies — and that not all of them are that strong.
We get a bit of free time to wander around the market, and I can’t resist buying a freshly squeezed orange juice. Half the price of Bangkok. Back on the bus, we head out to the cooking venue.
“Wow,” I say out loud when we arrive. It’s incredibly beautiful — lush, green, and filled with fresh air. When you live in Bangkok, it’s easy to forget that nature still exists.
On the way there, Alley notes down which dishes each of us will be cooking. Mango sticky rice is a given for dessert — a classic — but aside from that, we get to choose from several options. My menu ends up being fresh spring rolls, Tom Yum Kung (the famous hot and sour prawn soup), chicken pad thai, and massaman curry. Good thing I showed up hungry, I think to myself.
We’re welcomed with a drink, put on our aprons, and after a short introduction from Alley, we get straight to work on our individual dishes. Time flies by, laughter fills the air, and I’m relieved to discover that I’m not the only one who’s unsure how to light a gas stove. Yes — I’d never done that before.
I quickly learn that Thai cooking requires incredibly high heat, and before I know it, I’m stirring, flipping, and frying like never before. Still, I have to admit I feel a genuine sense of pride when I sit down to eat my pad thai. And it tastes just as good as the one from my local spot. By the time I take the last bite of my mango sticky rice, I’m full — and very happy there aren’t any more dishes waiting.
Later that evening, I’m dropped back at my hotel and happily give the experience five stars. If you’re curious about taking a cooking class in Thailand, it comes with my warmest recommendation!
