Introduction You Find a Way to Keep Going Growing up in Trang, Southern Thailand, we knew we were not rich, but life always had an element of brilliance to it, because the food my mother cooked was so delicious: perfect caramelized pork (see page 175), stir-fried eggplant (see page 180), Chinese Broccoli with Salted Fish (page 172), sour curry (see page 118). These foods offered moments of delight. In good times and in bad, my mom''s food kept us going. My mom, Kalaya, did not have an easy life. I''m writing this in Philadelphia, where I now live, where I run an award-winning restaurant named after her, which she has not been able to visit because her health makes it impossible to travel. She was orphaned early in life and worked as a domestic worker at the age of twelve, taking care of the kids of family friends. She didn''t have much schooling, and she took care of those kids for a long time, teaching herself to cook and honing her skills in the kitchen. When she married my dad, it wasn''t always peaceful.

His vices often forced my mom to make tough decisions. Like so many women around the world in difficult circumstances, she kept a strong face and kept herself together for her family. When we lost our house and my dad still brought friends over to the rental property, my mom cooked for them and was the most gracious host. She was generous even when we were really poor. She never said no, and she bought the best food, cooked the best food, and worked hard. And she would do the same the next day. My family does not dwell on the bad things that happen. We live for each day, and we move on.

We have to find a way forward and we look for the joy in life. When my mom started her curry paste stall at our local market, Talat Yan Ta Khao, it was as much for stability as it was because she was good at it. I helped her peel ingredients and set up her curry stall from as early as I can remember. At five, I carried huge bricks of shrimp paste (which were almost as big as me) through the market for my mom. Did we play? I don''t remember, but we did laugh a lot. It was my duty as a daughter and I was proud to do it. There was simply no other way. Her curry stall grew popular and had many repeat customers.

She was a staple of the market and people knew she used only the best ingredients for her pastes and sauces. She always smiled, always laughed. As I grew older, she decided it would be best if I was to go to high school in Bangkok. She gave me the chance to live a life she never had. Without Kalaya, there would be no Nok. I owe her everything. You Will Learn to Cook My husband always says I should learn to be more humble. Maybe he''s right, but I am not humble about my food .

yes, the food you are going to learn to cook from this book. My food reminds me of my beloved hometown, and of course of my mom. But my mom never taught me how to cook by holding my hand and telling me the steps. I watched her cook and we enjoyed our conversations together. Watching her, I learned that you have to cook with your instinct. I never really had to cook myself until I was an adult, working as a flight attendant. I was living in Kuwait with my colleagues and we wanted to make good Thai food. We were trying to use ingredients that were available to us there, or that we could bring back from Thailand in our suitcases.

I think when you leave your mom''s house and your country, this is how most people learn to cook. You miss the food of home and try to seek the comfort you remember. I didn''t have a chance to cook for my mom until much later. Every April, we would offer food to our ancestors for the Qingming festival and take care of their tombstones at the cemetery. We always looked forward to eating the mee tiaw and gai tom (noodles and steamed chicken) that my mother made. She would cook the noodles in lard, with cabbage, salt, and light seasoning, paired with steamed chicken and dipping sauces like Nam Jim Tao Jiew (page 33, Fermented Bean Sauce) or Nam Jim Waan (page 41, Sweet Chili Sauce). One year, she had surgery and couldn''t cook for the festival. I took over and made the dish.

My aunt said I made it taste just like my mom''s cooking, which is the highest compliment. Cook Where You Are, with What You Have At some point, I fell in love and moved to Philadelphia to be with my husband. By then, I was already well established in Bangkok, gaining seniority on my flight crew while also running a beloved Italian restaurant. When I left Bangkok, I had to start my life over. For those first few months, I adjusted to American life. There weren''t as many leisurely family meals, and everyone was always rushing. I had to learn to cook all over again with the ingredients available to me locally. It took a lot of trial and error, a lot of innovation, and many hours of work sometimes being thrown out.

But when I saw my family and my friends enjoyed my food, it created a lot of confidence in me. By then, I knew that I wanted food to be my career. I went to a Western culinary school, and at home cooked for my friends and neighbors. I worked in a bakery for a few months, and then joined the catering business of a famous chef. I love a good flaky pastry with my coffee, but I missed the fiery and inspiring flavors of Southern Thailand. Much of the food I was learning about and was asked to cook felt one-dimensional. At home, I was cooking my mom''s food and the food from my memory while improvising. The way I made my green curry (see page 127) with extra basil at the end to maintain the green brightness and avoid oxidation was a recipe I developed in Philly.

I would make chicken soup with bitter melon or a luxurious oxtail soup that I remembered my mom making me when I was sick. It was not without its complications. One day I needed lemongrass. I went to my neighborhood grocery store. The only option they had was one 3-inch stick of lemongrass in a plastic box. At that moment, I missed the abundant produce markets of my childhood and how we could get foot-long beautiful bunches of lemongrass to use for two weeks. Over the years, I found a butcher, my favorite produce market, and a fishmonger, and now I know the exact places to get the best-quality ingredients for my recipes, but it took me a while to build my network. Those first few years I worked with what I could access, and I found ways to make my food just as good as back home.

In this spirit of discovery, I never felt discouraged. I kept working until I got it right. You Have to Take the Chance I love Philadelphia. It is a city that always has room to embrace creativity and grit. You can be unknown one day, and the next day if you do something interesting, funny, or innovative, the city will celebrate it, even if it''s climbing to the top of a greasy telephone pole or making a football field-size banh mi hoagie like we did for the Super Bowl. It was also Philadelphia diners who embraced my food when I started a small thirty-seat restaurant in my Queen Village neighborhood. The restaurant was just a dream, I didn''t even know I would secure the space when I handed over the deposit. I was a Thai woman, a new American, and someone who was unknown to the Philadelphia restaurant scene.

I felt an urgency to preserve true Southern Thai recipes, and I wanted to share the delicious and vibrant food of my childhood. I served Southern-Style Crab Curry (page 117, Gaeng Pu)--with really big chunks of crab-- Tom Yum Goong (page 150, Hot and Sour Thai Soup with Shrimp) with giant river prawns practically climbing out of the soup, SouthernStyle Chicken Curry (page 114, Gaeng Gai Khao Mun) with Green Coconut Rice (page 235), and intricate dumplings shaped like flowers made purple from the butterfly pea flower and stuffed with pork. I cooked with my heart, and instinct, just like I remembered the way my mom cooked for me. That first year, we were voted restaurant of the year by Philadelphia''s top food critics and by Esquire magazine. Since then, I never stopped, I never hesitated, I just kept working, kept going, just like my mom. In 2022 we opened a 130-seat restaurant in the Fishtown neighborhood of Philadelphia, and life has been crazy ever since. In 2023, I won the James Beard Award, and we were honored as one of the top 50 restaurants in America by the New York Times . If you asked me ten years ago would I be here, I would have smiled and said it''s my dream.

Now it''s my life, and every day I get to showcase my food and share it with the world.