STACEY IRVIN
In 1975, with a goal of erasing culture, history, and identity, the Khmer Rouge regime began its reign of genocide in Cambodia, upending — and ending — the lives of millions.
For Chantha Nguon, then 9 years old, it began her two decades of enduring loss upon loss: home, possessions, mother, and siblings. Twenty years a refugee, Nguon survived by her wits, finding work as a cook in a brothel, a nightclub server, a street food vendor, wound nurse, and weaver. How her chaotic life unfolded, how she found her way back home, and ultimately founded the Stung Treng Women’s Development Center (SWDC) is a compelling story, at once heartbreaking and life-affirming.
Nguon’s memoir, Slow Noodles: A Cambodian Memoir of Love, Loss, and Family Recipes, came into being via Nashville connections. Through her family foundation, local philanthropist Ann Walling donated money to fund SWDC, and its premier silk-weaving enterprise, Mekong Blue. In 2011, at Walling’s invitation, Nguon came to Nashville to showcase the center and the women’s stunning hand-woven scarves. Walling also wanted her to tell her story.
Enter Nashvillian Kim Green, an acclaimed writer and producer, who at the time was writing a piece on Mekong Blue. She connected deeply with Nguon and was asked by Walling to help write her memoir. Green soon recognized that Nguon was at the most ease relating this traumatic period in her life through the lens of food. The memories of her mother Mae’s recipes were entwined with significant events: how the aromas from a food stall reminded Nguon of a beloved pork-noodle soup, and led her to a job; how, when rations forced cooking with the sparest of ingredients, her making of Mae’s lemongrass-chili fried fish became a delectable act of rebellion; how the special lunches she and Mae shared in the months before her mother died transformed into a lifelong sustenance. Recreating those meals preserved the family recipes and heritage. Remembering those meals kept the memory of Mae alive. Despite the evils of the Khmer Rouge, history was not erased.
At the heart of Nguon’s powerful story is the making of slow noodles. More than preparing a meal, it embodies a philosophy: whether alone or with a group, the time and care taken to hand roll the pasta is meditative, nurturing, and full of hope. This act, a beacon, helped carry Nguon through the trials of refugee life. Her memoir invites you to savor that philosophy while making some of the cherished recipes, such as the Wrapped Fried Shrimp, shared here.
MAE’S MEMORY LUNCH OF WRAPPED FRIED SHRIMP
Note: These are so delicious, they vanish quickly! Plan to make at least 3 per person. (Serves 8)
Wrapped Shrimp
- 24 Large tail-on shrimp, peeled, deveined, rinsed
- 3 Cloves garlic, minced
- 1 Large shallot, minced
- Pinch of salt
- 6 Turns of the pepper grinder
- 1 Package rice paper wrappers
- 1/2 Cup neutral oil
- Optional: lettuce leaves
Teuk Trei Pa’em Dipping Sauce
- 2 tbsp. Sugar
- 4 tbsp. Rice vinegar
- 4 tbsp. Fish sauce
- 2 Large cloves garlic, minced
- 1 Thai red chili, diced
- In a bowl, combine shrimp with garlic, shallot, salt, and pepper. Let sit for an hour.
- Meanwhile, prepare dipping sauce. Dissolve sugar in 1/2 cup warm water. Pour into a small bowl and add vinegar and fish sauce. Stir well. Add garlic and chili. Cover and refrigerate. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
- Cut rice paper wraps in half. Working on a clean surface, brush the rough surface of the rice paper with water. Wait until softened, about 1-2 minutes.
- Wrap each shrimp tightly in the wrapper, with the tail sticking out as a handle. Place each wrapped shrimp on the prepared baking sheet. Don’t let them touch—they’ll stick together. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.
- Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium- high heat. Place shrimp into simmering—but not smoking—oil. Don’t crowd the shrimp. Cook for about 2-3 minutes per side, until the wrap is golden and crispy. Serve immediately on a platter with dipping sauce and lettuce leaves.