A Sall Rant About Isan/Isaan/Esaan Food

As you venture off to eat Isan food without me (tragic, emotionally devastating), I feel compelled to address a personal pet peeve. A trigger, if you will. And yes, it’s about the food.

Specifically, the moment when someone—often well-meaning, often very confident—says. “That’s not Thai food. It’s Lao.”

Cue my internal scream.

Here’s the thing: I don’t disagree entirely. I just disagree with the either/or framing. Because I believe it’s more complex than that, I think it’s BOTH. And also because… this is personal.

Why I Care (More Than Is Reasonable)

My mother is from the Isan region of Thailand. So is my older sister (long story, another post). I spent many summers in Sakon Nakhon with my mom’s family and Roi Et with my sister, eating sticky rice with my hands, learning flavors before I learned vocabulary, and absorbing a culture that lives very loudly in my bones. In our home, both Thai and Lao were spoken equally.

So when people argue about whether Isan food is “really” Lao or “really” Thai, they’re not just debating cuisine. They’re debating identity, history, and who gets to claim what.

And that’s where my eye starts twitching.

A Very Brief (I Promise) History Lesson

To understand my pet peeve, we need to rewind a bit—back to the Lan Xang Kingdom. Lan = million, Xang = elephants (excellent branding).

Lan Xang was a Lao-speaking, sticky rice–loving, Mekong River–centered civilization whose cultural footprint included:

• Present-day Laos

• Most of Isan (northeastern Thailand)

• Parts of what are now Cambodia and Vietnam
  

The people of this region called themselves Lao.

My mother still considers herself Lao ethnically and Thai nationally.

Isan food = Lao roots + Thai evolution

This is the part people miss.

Isan cuisine has roots in dishes from the Lan Xang (Lao) culture with Thai influence. Lao food (in Laos) evolved on its own path too.

As the Isan region was gradually incorporated into Siam and later Thailand:

• Ingredients changed (more access to palm sugar, fish sauce styles, Thai chilies)

• Techniques adapted

• Flavors shifted slightly sweeter, saltier, sometimes richer

• Dishes absorbed Central Thai influences while keeping Lao structure
  
  

Cuisine is alive. It migrates, adapts, and hybridizes. So when someone says, “That dish is Lao, not Thai,” they’re usually half right. Ethnically and culturally? Yes, Lao. Nationally and culinarily today? Also Thai. Both things can be true at the same time. Imagine that.

Modern Thai cuisine already includes multiple regional traditions, and Isan food is one of them.

My Recommended Isan Dishes (Eat Like You Mean It)

Here are some of my favorites, the dishes I grew up eating and adore.

• Som Tam (ส้มตำ) – The iconic papaya salad, bright, spicy, and addictive.

• Larb (ลาบ) – Minced meat salad with herbs, lime, and toasted rice; tangy, fresh, and unapologetically flavorful.

• Khao Niew (ข้าวเหนียว) – Sticky rice, the backbone of every meal; use your hands, it’s the only way.

• Gai Yang (ไก่ย่าง) – Grilled chicken marinated with garlic and herbs, smoky and perfect over charcoal.
  

• Kor Moo Yang (คอหมูย่าง) – Grilled pork neck; juicy, tender, and full of smoky flavor.

• Sai Krok Isan (ไส้กรอกอีสาน) – Fermented Isan sausage, slightly sour, a little funky, and wildly addictive.

• Tom Saep (ต้มแซ่บ) – Hot and sour soup with herbs and chilies; comforting, spicy, and tangy.

• Nam Tok (น้ำตก) – Literally “waterfall” salad; grilled meat tossed with lime, herbs, and toasted rice powder.

• Naem Khao Tod (แหนมข้าวทอด)– Crispy rice salad with fermented pork, herbs, lime, and chilies; crunchy, tangy, and deeply flavorful.

• Khao Jee (ข้าวจี่) – Grilled sticky rice brushed with egg, smoky and chewy perfection in every bite.

• Jim Jum (จิ้มจุ่ม) – Isan-style hot pot with herbal broth, cooked at the table, meant to be shared.

• Gaeng Nor Mai (แกงหน่อไม้) – Shredded bamboo shoots gently cooked in yanang leaf juice until tender and nearly dry, then mixed with fresh herbs. Earthy, fragrant, and herbaceous, it’s subtly tangy and deeply flavorful

• Kai Mod Daeng (ไข่มดแดง)– Red ant eggs, often in soup or salad; adventurous, funky, and a true taste of traditional Isan.

Single by Choice: Why Some of Us Prefer a Relationship-Free Life

Love can be wonderful. Partnership can be beautiful. And some of us… have opted out—at least for now, and very much on purpose.

I have a subset of friends who are single by choice. Not bitter. Not unlucky. Not “couldn’t find anyone.” Just deliberately, intentionally relationship-free. It’s similar to the child-free conversation: people are beginning to understand that choice a little better, even if it still raises eyebrows. This one? Not so much.

Let’s Clear Something Up…

So let me address the elephant in the room with a little humor and a lot of clarity:

Do you REALLY think we can’t get laid? That we aren’t getting laid?

Because that seems to be the default assumption. As if choosing to be single automatically means we’re unwanted or untouched. Most of us absolutely could find partners, and many of us are already intimate in the ways that suit our lives. We’re not celibate by force. We just refuse to lower our standards or sign up for relationships that shrink us.

Standards Aren’t Entitlement. They’re Alignment

That’s the real conversation: standards. Not entitlement—alignment. For many of us, the single life is simply more fulfilling than compromising in ways that would cost us peace, autonomy, creativity, or joy.

We find intimacy in friendships and family. Sometimes in casual connections. Sometimes in solitude. Our lives aren’t empty — they’re full in different, meaningful ways.

Yes! A Fulfilled Life Exists Outside Romance

And yes, I know some people can’t imagine that. A life without a spouse to lean on. A home without children. A calendar that isn’t structured around a partner. But this life exists. We exist. And our fulfillment doesn’t hinge on a romantic relationship slot being filled.

We already compromise in a thousand other places: careers, responsibilities, family obligations. Choosing not to compromise on who we share our lives with is intentional.

Friendship Without Assumptions

What I want more of are friendships that feel easy and unburdened. Friends who can hang out without assumptions. Where closeness isn’t confused with pursuit. Where connection can simply be what it is in the moment — laughter over coffee, a walk at sunset, deep conversation, or comfortable silence.

No hidden agenda. No quiet evaluation of whether this might “be something more.” Just… being human together.

Not Anti-Love—Just Anti-Settling

And here’s the thing: it’s not that any of us have sworn off committed, monogamous relationships forever. Most of us haven’t. If the right person showed up, someone whose presence expands life rather than constricts it, we’d recognize that.

We’re just unwilling to force it. Unwilling to treat partnership as a checkbox. Unwilling to trade a life we love for one that only sort of fits.

Single Is a Whole Life, Not a Half One

Choosing singlehood isn’t a failure or a fallback plan. It’s a conscious choice for a life.

And if you know someone who has chosen this road, trust them when they say they’re fulfilled. There’s a whole, vibrant world inside a relationship-free life — and it’s not a consolation prize. It’s simply another way of being free.

Alone Time: Why Your Brain (and Heart) Need Space

There’s a kind of bliss that comes from being alone that you just can’t replicate anywhere else. I’m talking about true alone time—the kind where you don’t have to consider anyone else’s needs, wants, moods, or preferences. No negotiating plans. No mental checklist of who needs what. Just space to exist as you are, doing what you want, when you want.

For many, that kind of time is rare, but it becomes even more elusive when you don’t live alone. Whether you’re sharing space with a partner, kids, roommates, or even a very expressive pet, you’re always balancing someone else’s needs alongside your own. Life becomes a constant exercise in compromise. And while connection and companionship matter deeply, it doesn’t change the reality that you’re still “on” most of the time. And it can be exhausting.

When Life Becomes an Endless To-Do List

For so many of us, life feels like a rolling wave of obligations: work, school, family commitments, social expectations — and then the invisible layer of everything else. Sleep (hopefully). Commuting. Showering. Cooking. Cleaning. Laundry. Dusting. Maybe even scrubbing the shower that’s been silently judging you for weeks.

All those everyday basics quietly eat up your time and energy until there’s almost nothing left for the activities that actually refill your cup. Sometimes “self-care” isn’t a bubble bath — it’s finally organizing your desk so you can think straight.

Burnout Doesn’t Always Roar — Sometimes It Whispers

Burnout creeps in quietly. Mentally, it shows up as brain fog, irritability, or feeling like every decision — even tiny ones — is exhasting. Emotionally, you may feel detached or unmotivated. Physically, the exhaustion is real. Your body keeps the score, and suddenly you’re tired all the time.

That’s where I’ve found myself lately: worn down from constantly juggling the mental load. I spend so much of my free time sleeping — not because I’m sad, but because I’m depleted. Some friends wonder if I’m depressed, but I don’t feel disconnected from life. I’m just tired and craving rest. I want time to do the things that feed my soul instead of rushing from one obligation to another.

Can anyone else relate to this bone-deep tiredness?

The Hidden Weight of Constant Communication

Sometimes the people in your life simply don’t realize how stretched thin you are. From the outside, not replying to a text can look like dismissal. After all, it “only takes a second,” right?

Except that one message rarely exists alone. It’s sitting in a queue next to fifteen other texts, twenty emails, group chats, Facebook messages, Instagram DMs, WhatsApp notifications — all chiming at all hours.

And it’s not just the time it takes to respond — it’s the mental gear-shifting. Every notification pulls your attention away from wherever your brain finally landed. That interruption breaks flow — that fragile, precious mental state where you’re deeply focused or deeply relaxed. Research shows it can take 15–30 minutes to fully return to flow… and many of us are interrupted every few minutes.

So we never really arrive.

Instead, we’re constantly task-switching — and every switch burns energy. No wonder we’re exhausted.

That’s why responding to messages can sometimes feel heavier than people expect. It’s not the words — it’s the cost of leaving the headspace you worked so hard to enter.

Blending Connection With Real Life

The goal isn’t isolation. Relationships matter. But connection doesn’t have to compete with your energy — sometimes it can support it.

I’ve started leaning into errand dates. Instead of expensive lunches (while incomes… aren’t keeping pace), we’ll grocery shop together, hit the post office, or wander thrift store while catching up. We get meaningful time together — and we also get things done.

Other ideas that work beautifully:

• Task hangouts — bring bills or laptops and work side-by-side
• Quiet work hangs — focus first, chat after
• Meal-prep together — leave with full containers and a lighter heart

Connection doesn’t always need a reservation or a bill at the end.

Protecting the Sacred Space of Solitude

And yes — sometimes you truly do need time alone. Undisturbed. Silent. Yours.

You can make that easier by:

• Scheduling solitude like any other commitment
• Giving it a name — “reset night,” “studio time,” “quiet work”
• Saying “not tonight” without apology

Your energy is worth guarding.

Helping Others Understand Your Bandwidth

Most people don’t want you burned out — they just don’t realize how much you’re carrying. A simple, honest share can go a long way:

“If I don’t respond right away, it’s not personal. Sometimes my brain just can’t switch gears without burning out. I’ll reply when I have the bandwidth.”

And give others that grace, too.

Alone Time Isn’t Selfish — It’s Repair

In a world that never stops knocking at the door of our attention, alone time is how we heal. It’s how we reconnect with ourselves so we don’t disappear inside our responsibilities. It’s how we come back to our relationships with presence instead of depletion.

So if you’re exhausted, you’re not failing.

You’re simply overdue for quiet.