Quotes of the Day

Australian chef david thompson has a dry sense of humor, so when he describes his 370-page whopper of a cookbook as "by no means exhaustive," you take it with a pinch of salt. Actually, make that a splash of fish sauce. For this is Thai Street Food, Thompson's passionate and meticulous tribute to one of the world's great curbside cuisines. Thais not only snack between mealtimes, they snack between snacks. And who wouldn't, when almost every street is what Thompson calls a "delicious obstacle course"?

It wasn't always this way, he explains in his introduction. Traditionally, Thais were rural folk who ate at home. But in the 1960s, with the country rapidly industrializing, people migrated from the farms to the factories, and food stalls sprang up to feed them. Their customers were once pitied or scorned. Women who bought takeaway instead of cooking for their families were called "plastic-bag housewives."

Today, Thais attach enormous kudos to knowing where the best stalls are found. "Street food, when it's done well, is fantastic," says Thompson. Fantastic and (squeamish visitors take note) usually safe to eat. Vendors normally buy their ingredients in the morning and have nothing left by the day's end. "It makes for scrupulously fresh food. I've had more food poisoning in England."

Thompson, 49, first went to Thailand from his hometown of Sydney in 1986 and "fell in love with the place." But he didn't care much for the food until undergoing a six-month apprenticeship with a "gruff old guide" called Sombat Janpetchara, the daughter of a palace chef. "She cooked with poise and elegance and a definition of taste that made other foods seem ordinary," Thompson recalls. He returned to Sydney to start his first restaurant, Darley Street Thai, to rave reviews. A decade later he opened Nahm in London, the first Thai restaurant with a Michelin star.

Despite the acclaim, Thompson still pounds the streets for inspiration. "Street food is not always purely Thai food," he tells me on a stroll through Bangkok, his second home after London. "It's often food that's been imported from other cultures and assimilated." Satay hails from the Malay-speaking world. Khao man gai, a popular chicken-and-rice dish, was introduced by 19th century immigrants from China's Hainan province; their descendants still sell it on Bangkok streets. Pad Thai, perhaps Thailand's most recognized dish, is also indebted to China. "It's Chinese noodles stir-fried, but with additional palm sugar and tamarind water," explains Thompson.

Street food can also be deceptively complex to make, as Thompson's often dauntingly long recipes suggest. The one for rolled noodles with pork lists 30 ingredients, not including the chili sauce. The recipe for Thai cupcakes is, by my count, 1,059 words long. Another 278 words and you've got the Declaration of Independence. The book's detailed appendix reveals everything from how to choose, crack and eviscerate a coconut to tips on how to impart a subtle aroma to your satays (spoiler: apply coconut cream with a lemongrass-and-pandanus-leaf brush).

So where does Thompson eat when he's in Bangkok? "I raid the streets. I rarely cook. Why would I?" That will change later this year, when he opens another Nahm in the city's chic Metropolitan Hotel. His book, meanwhile, might help arrest a worrying trend. So many Thais now eat out that the culinary arts of their ancestors are neglected. Are they — gulp — forgetting how to cook? "I think some Thais are," says Thompson. "They're not forgetting how to eat." Nor are they forgetting how to read. One day, perhaps, Thai Street Food will become the definitive reference for Thais as well as foreigners. Where else will they learn that the best coconut cream is squeezed through muslin and that giant water bugs give fish sauce the most haunting of aromas?

• Andrew Marshall
• Chef David Thompson reveals the alluring complexity of fast food, Thai-style