At a Yunnan restaurant, you might expect a feast of mushrooms or a warm bowl of chewy noodles. However, some dishes carry the unmistakable, citrusy perfume of lemongrass, lime and galangal, which combine into the very familiar scent of the classic Thai tom yum soup.
This is no coincidence. It is an echo of a shared ancestry, one that makes Thailand and the highlands of Yunnan the equivalent of culinary cousins.
Yunnan’s culinary diversity comes from the Chinese province being home to 25 of the 55 ethnic minority groups recognised by the government, each with distinct cultures and cuisines.
Among them are the Bai people of Dali city, situated in the southwestern part of Yunnan province, not far from the borders with Myanmar and Laos.
To explore the food of Dali is to discover what one might call the “mountain version” of Thai cuisine. That fragrant trio of galangal, lemongrass and lime is as vital to the broths, marinades and salads of Dali as it is to those in Chiang Mai or Phuket. It creates an immediate, sensory bridge between the two cultures.
“Yunnan itself is close to Southeast Asia and rich in resources,” says Sun Hao, founder of Yunnan restaurant The Mushroom in Hong Kong’s Central neighbourhood. “So our menu primarily showcases the best ingredients and specialities of each region.”
A meal in Dali, much like in Thailand, bursts with fresh and raw vegetables. Mint and coriander are not mere garnishes but integral components, brought to the table for their crunch and cooling contrast to richer dishes.
This principle extends to each location’s love of vibrant, zesty salads. The Thai yam salad, a spicy, sour and herbal toss of ingredients, has a direct parallel in Dali, where raw or lightly cooked fish, mushrooms or meat are dressed in a similar combination of lime, chilli and herbs.
A similar example in Hong Kong is the pineapple shrimp with passion fruit vinaigrette dish at The Mushroom. Served cold, it bursts with fresh fruit flavours, a contrast to the typical impression of Chinese cuisine.
Another ethnic minority of Yunnan is the Dai people, who live in the Xishuangbanna Dai Autonomous Prefecture and scattered areas including Gengma and Menglian counties.
The Dai people are considered the ancestors of the modern Thai population. Historical migrations of the Dai people from southern China into Southeast Asia led to the formation of Thai kingdoms like Siam. This connection is evidenced by their shared languages, cultural traditions and genetic heritage.
Even the cooking techniques speak the same language: the sizzle of charcoal-grilled meats marinated in herb pastes and the gentle steam rising from packages cooked in banana leaves.
The banana-wrapped mixed mushrooms showcase baoshao, a quintessential cooking technique of the Dai people, where food is wrapped in banana leaves and cooked in an oven or grilled over charcoal.
The baoshao served at The Mushroom is a selection of seasonal wild mushrooms, such as black termite mushroom, maitake and black boletus, seasoned with lemongrass, mint and fresh chilli, then wrapped in fresh banana leaves and grilled slowly over charcoal.
The result is a spicy mushroom dish that has the flavours of Thailand mixed with the earthiness and complexity of Yunnan mushrooms.
The dish that is most uncannily similar is Dali’s wild fruit sour soup with fish and Thailand’s tom yum soup, but there are subtle differences, mainly the level of spice. While chillies are used liberally in Dali, the heat is generally a supporting actor, less intense than the fiery inferno level often found in mainstream Thai dishes.
“The soup in Dali is a bit less spicy, but it’s the sourness that I feel is the biggest difference,” says Nelson Wong, owner and founder of J’s Garden, a retailer and importer of mushrooms from Yunnan, where he frequently travels.
“The sour flavour in the Dali soup comes from fermented papaya and Yunnan heirloom tomatoes, and to me it’s more fragrant. Tom yum has sharper sour and spice.”
Both culinary traditions share a deep affection for the funky, savoury depth of fermentation, though their sources differ. Where Thai cuisine looks to the sea to provide umami in the form of fish sauce and shrimp paste, landlocked Dali and Xishuangbanna use ingredients from the land, such as fermented tofu, beans and pickled vegetables, to achieve that same depth in aroma.
Yet, for all their shared vocabulary, the two cuisines have distinct accents.
The most striking difference lies in Yunnan’s use of dairy. Dali’s dairy products, like the stretchy, grillable cheese rushan, for example, are staples almost entirely absent in Thai cuisine.
So, while a bite of Dali’s sour fish hotpot might recall the bright notes of a Thai tom yum soup, and the bright notes of a salad feel comfortingly familiar, the experience has subtle differences. But they are all tastes of a culinary family tree whose roots run deep across borders. This connection is the legacy of the migration of the Dai people from southern China into Southeast Asia.
“Customers are often surprised by our dishes,” says Sun. “They often encounter flavours and ingredients they’ve never tried before. For example, they absolutely love the Yunnan bugs, mushrooms, milk bean curd and cold rice noodles.
“The definition of Chinese food is very broad, and every region in China has its own distinct cuisine. Yunnan’s tropical regions, like Banna and Dehong, tend to have a more sour and spicy flavour because the ingredients grow in temperatures similar to those in Thailand. Some of our dishes may feel a bit like Thai food.”