There are some moments in life that can only be described by one word- serendipity. “Finding something beautiful without looking for it;” the luck of chance.
Meeting Ae was serendipitous.
In July of 2023, I solo traveled through Thailand. It was a difficult period of my life- I was overwhelmed with emotions, visa issues, and a lot of harsh realizations. But in Chiang Mai, I found solace, a type of peace I had never before experienced.
As cooking is my love language, I found it only appropriate to try my hand at Thai cuisine. I discovered a Garden-to-Table cooking class on Airbnb and booked myself in- little did I know that this was the moment to start something much bigger.
To call it a “cooking class” is an understatement. It was a real, heartfelt, pure experience- one of my favorites across all my travels. And Ae, my teacher, became someone I’d come to cherish.
Ae is from Chiang Mai and has come to be a woman of the world through her adventures with her husband through Ghana, Norway, Sri Lanka, Angola, and more. You meet her and are enveloped in this warmth, this pure kindness that makes you immediately feel at home- she welcomes you into her family.
We ventured out into her garden, picking all sorts of things- Thai holy basil, butterfly pea tea, coriander. Together we made all sorts of Thai dishes- grating fresh coconuts for coconut milk, grinding garlic in chilis in a mortar, frying spring rolls until golden. And it was the best food I ate in all of Thailand, shared with the best possible company.
I thought of Ae and her kitchen often throughout my travels, always hoping to one day return. When I decided to move to Bangkok in September 2024, I knew it was time. I reached out, asking for the opportunity to volunteer- and Ae happily agreed.
At the end of October 2024, I arrived in Chiang Mai, beginning my time at the beautiful Baan Sri Dha, Ae’s home, kitchen, and guesthouse.
I would arrive at 7 in the morning, after a sunrise motorbike ride across town. Each day would begin with turning on a piano playlist and setting up the coffee machine, making cups for Luhr and I.
Luhr became my BKF- “best kitchen friend.” A former restaurant chef, he started working for Ae eight years ago- a very different pace from the restaurant industry. He would have me chop vegetables, make Thai tea, scoop out the inside of bitter melon, prepare table settings, fry up some pad kra pao– there was always something to do, and all of it was, for me, wonderfully fun.
Each day brought something different- a new breakfast menu, a new cooking class, and new guests, hailing from around the world.
I slowly learned the rules of cooking the Thai way, as I stood over the stove, frying things in my flip flops on the little step stool they’d set up for me. No matter the amount of oil I would add to the pan, Luhr would always say “little more.” There’s so much trust in this way of cooking- there is no exactness, no perfect timing, no precise measurements- it’s all intuitive. It involves a particular knowledge of the cuisine and ingredients that could only truly be understood over a lifetime of cooking.
I learned that the best Thai cuisine comes from the heart- dishes made with intention, with ingredients grown from Ae’s back garden and farm. I would bring a small basket out back, prepared to face any snakes I might encounter, and collect the plants of the day. And with Luhr, we would cook our way through Thailand. Pork with holy basil, nam prik ong, noodles with jelly mushrooms, egg tofu soup, vegetable spring rolls, pad see ew, miang kham, hunglay curry, garlicky morning glory, local soup with bamboo shoot.
Every dish was complex, flavorful, so much better than anything I’d eaten in restaurants- and I ate a lot. In this kitchen, one cannot simply turn down food- more will always be given to you. It’s a sign of love, to ensure that one eats well. As Ae says, “We eat what we know, it’s how we take care of ourselves.”
Though eating so much, I felt better than ever- the majority of my day’s meals came from the kitchen, with ingredients we had collected ourselves. There was something so satisfying about it all- everything came from nature, and went back to nature too, through means of Ae’s compost bins. There was no waste, there was no plastic, it was eating really good food made with really good ingredients. There is such beauty in that simplicity. Each bite I ate felt like a blessing to my body, a means of healing. Something very real in a world that so often offers fakeness.
There truly is something utopian about Ae’s kitchen- everything works in perfect flow. There were plenty of tasks- chopping, frying, market shopping, bringing used dishes “behind the scenes,” as Luhr would say. Everyone helped out, sharing the work. There was no pressure or hierarchy. There was always something to do, yet no one was ever too busy for you.
“People should enjoy their work,” Ae would tell me, as we sat in her pickup truck, going to her village farm outside of Chiang Mai to harvest bamboo and limes. “In my home, we are a family.” Ae’s family is truly something special. She has also given a livelihood not just to local people, but also to Burmese refugees, allowing them space to grow in her kitchen and in Thailand. Everyone that walks in the door finds themselves welcomed to a place that feels like home- a place they will always be excited to return to.
It’s a funny thing, to connect so deeply with people despite not being able to speak the same language. Ae and Luhr are fluent in English, but some members of the team only speak Thai- including Pi Dang. Pi Dang is the human version of a bird’s eye chili- small but spicy. We had language exchanges, over Google Translate, over pointing to different fruits and trying to figure out the word in each other’s language. I had never before seen such character in a person without being able to fully understand what they’re saying.
And with every work day, there was always time for adventure. I explored jungle temples with Luhr, who grew up in the mountains. He drove me up incredibly treacherous roads- I sat on the back of his motorbike, praying to God, The Universe, Buddha- whoever would listen. But somehow, we made it out alive. He pointed out plants as we hiked, explaining which were edible and which were used for medicinal purposes. We saw waterfalls and monasteries and views over the entire city.
Ae brought me out to her village farm, where she grows teak wood, jackfruit, bamboo, and plenty of other ingredients we used in the kitchen. She told me to take a walk around, and I found myself in the middle of a village temple, speaking broken Thai to a monk, and petting a street dog- there is no such thing as boredom in this life.
On my last morning of work, I sat exhausted, but grateful. Ae welcomed me into this beautiful family, of people who aren’t related at all- and yet, there is so much love. I am so grateful. My heart glows with that gratitude- and it lights up the whole room.
Ae dropped me off at the airport, with a lunch she had carefully wrapped up for me in a banana leaf from the garden. We hugged and I realized how beautiful it really is, to have those worth returning for.
And so there comes a time, when you gaze out the window of a plane, over the mountains. And you smile to yourself- Knowing you’re now a different person than the one who arrived.
