Native to Southeast Asia, the santol (Sandoricum koetjape)—known locally as kâmping reach, bâmpenh reach, or loh—has carved a niche in Cambodia’s culinary and medicinal traditions.
Introduced to Indochina centuries ago, this fuzzy, peach-sized fruit thrives in Cambodia’s tropical climate, flooding markets from May to June with its golden-orange hue and tart-sweet allure. Despite botanist Pierre Tixier’s 1958 dismissal of santol as a “mediocre fruit,” Cambodians today celebrate its vibrant flavor, proving its enduring appeal.
Culinary Uses: From Street Snacks to Cultural Staples
Raw and Rustic: Santol is most commonly eaten fresh, peeled, and sliced into wedges. Vendors pair it with a small packet of salt and crushed chili, creating a harmonious blend of sour, salty, and spicy notes—a favorite among locals. The edible part is the thick, fleshy rind, while the pulpy seeds are discarded due to their risk of causing intestinal perforations.
Salads and Simplicity: Unlike Thailand, where santol stars in spicy salads (som tam), Cambodian preparations lean toward minimalism. The fruit is occasionally candied or used in preserves, though these methods remain rare.
Souring Agent: While not as prominent as in Filipino sinigang (sour soup), santol’s tangy flesh can be incorporated into Cambodian dishes needing a citrusy kick.
Medicinal Roots and Traditional PracticesCambodian traditional medicine harnesses santol’s bark, leaves, and roots:
Diarrhea Remedy: A decoction of santol leaves or roots is used to combat diarrhea, a practice documented in Pauline Dy Phon’s Dictionnaire des plantes utilisées au Cambodge.
Postpartum Tonic: In Malaysia and Cambodia, boiled bark water is consumed by new mothers to restore vitality—a tradition reflecting santol’s role in holistic health.
Anti-Inflammatory Properties: Studies note the plant’s anti-inflammatory and potential anticancer compounds, though these uses remain rooted more in folklore than modern medicine.
Cultural Significance and Market Life
During peak season, santol becomes a social fixture. Market stalls in Phnom Penh and rural areas buzz with vendors skillfully peeling the fruit, their hands stained yellow from the rind. For Khmers, santol symbolizes the arrival of late spring, its fleeting availability heightening its desirability. The fruit’s dual identity—both humble snack and cultural touchstone—mirrors Cambodia’s broader culinary ethos, where simplicity meets depth.
A Cautionary Note
While santol is cherished, its seeds pose risks. Swallowing them can lead to intestinal obstructions, a hazard highlighted by medical cases in Thailand and the Philippines. Cambodian vendors often pre-peel the fruit, subtly guiding consumers toward safer consumption.
A Fruit of Contrasts
Santol embodies Cambodia’s culinary paradoxes—simplicity paired with complexity, tradition interwoven with caution. From bustling markets to herbal remedies, it remains a testament to the Kingdom’s ability to transform “mediocre” ingredients into cultural treasures. As Tixier’s skepticism fades into history, santol stands resilient, a tangy emblem of Cambodia’s agrarian heritage and evolving palate.
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