The secret lives of sides: why banchan, sawsawan and more are the real stars of the table

The spotlight always lands on the mains. After all, how can you tear your eyes away from your braised short ribs, your grilled fish and your roasted chicken?

The rest of the tablescape? At first glance, they look like afterthoughts: the little bowls, the saucers, the ramekins that arrive unannounced. But look deeper, and you’ll realise that it’s the sides that tell the deeper story. Across Asia and beyond, the minute dishes, pickles, condiments and spreads that orbit the main dish carry centuries of history and regional identity. They may be called sides—accompaniments, if you’re fancy—but they’re never just extras. They direct the rhythm of the meal, set the tone of hospitality and sometimes, even steal the show.

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Banchan (Korea)

Kimchi is hardly the only banchan worth noticing. (Photo: Makafood / Pexels)

No Korean table is complete without banchan, the ensemble cast of small plates that arrives before you even place an order. Kimchi may be the star, but look for namul or seasoned vegetables, stir-fried anchovies, rolled omelettes or even braised potatoes. Banchan’s roots stretch back to the Joseon dynasty, when food rules emphasised variety and harmony on the table.

What makes them powerful is their rhythm: you eat meat or stew, reset with a tangy pickle or crunchy sprout, then return, refreshed. The number matters too: three, five, seven or 12, depending on formality and region, each plate balancing flavours of spice, tang and umami. Here, the meal becomes less about one dish and more about the conversation between many.

Chutney and thali (India)

Indian culture encourages accompaniment, which makes even solo plates a grand affair. (Photo: Fuseviews / Unsplash)

If Korea has banchan and Japan has tsukemono, India has the thali. It is an entire philosophy of eating where no dish stands alone. The “mains” are often simple (rice, dal or a curry), but what makes the thali sing are its sides. Crisp papad crackles against cooling raita, sharp achar or pickles cuts through richness, while stir-fried vegetables like thoran or poriyal add freshness and crunch. Even a humble potato fry or a spoon of spiced yoghurt earns equal billing with the star dish. Chutney, of course, is another important player. Across regions, they change dramatically: coriander chutneys in the north, fiery red garlic chutneys in Maharashtra, sweet mango pickles in Gujarat.

In India, sides aren’t afterthoughts. They’re the rhythm section holding the melody together, ensuring every bite hits the right proportions of heat, sour, crunch and cool.

Sawsawan and atsara (Philippines)

Those who brand Filipino cuisine as overly rich food probably ignores the side of pickles or atsara that come with every plate. (Photo: Instagram / @abephilippines)

Filipino meals love their partners-in-crime: atsara, the tangy-sweet pickled green papaya often served with fried bangus, crispy pata or grilled pork, cutting through the grease like a bright cymbal clash; and sawsawan, the endlessly variable dipping sauces of vinegar, soy, calamansi, garlic, onion and chilli that guests mix to their own liking.

These sides aren’t rigid recipes but living traditions. For example, in Batangas, vinegar dips lean toward sharp and peppery, while in Pampanga, calamansi and chilli dominate. Even the atsara changes shape: carrot ribbons, bell peppers and raisins appear at some tables, reflecting the host’s personality. At fiestas, you’ll see dozens of different sawsawan bowls, each reflecting a diner’s hand. Here, the side isn’t about deference but about democracy and self-expression. It is a country where every palate is honoured.

See more: 8 Filipino condiments you have to try: banana ketchup, bagoong, buro, and more

Mezze (Eastern Mediterranean and the Middle East)

The Middle Eastern mezze tradition involves small plates of hummus, baba ghanoush, pickled vegetables and breads that turn tiny plates into a feast. (Photo: Filipp Romanovski / Unsplash)

Though geographically broader, mezze belongs in this conversation because it performs the same function as banchan: hospitality expressed through abundance. A proper mezze spread layers dips like hummus, baba ganoush and labneh with bright pickled vegetables and spiced nuts. Its roots are both Ottoman and Levantine, where small plates encouraged lingering over conversation and wine. What makes mezze magical is its modularity: you can mix, dip and assemble each bite differently, making the meal infinite in variety. It’s less “supporting act” than “edible architecture”, where each side is a building block of conviviality.

Nam prik (Thailand)

Nam prik is essentially a chilli paste ground with garlic, shrimp paste, lime and herbs (Photo: Takeaway / Wikimedia Commons)

In Thailand, a meal isn’t complete without nam prik, the chilli-based pastes that act as culinary glue, pulling a spread together. Pounded in a mortar with garlic, shrimp paste, lime and herbs, each nam prik is a conversation among fire, funk, sourness and salt. They arrive on the table surrounded by baskets of blanched or raw vegetables, a whole fried mackerel, slabs of crispy pork and sometimes, omeletts or salted eggs.

Every region has its signature: the north’s smoky nam prik num, made with charred green chillies; the central plains’s briny nam prik kapi, perfumed with fermented shrimp paste; the south’s searingly hot nam prik goong siab, flavoured with dried shrimp. More than dips, they are tools of calibration, letting each diner tame the heat of a curry, lighten a mouthful of sticky rice or heighten the crunch of fresh cucumber. To understand nam prik is to understand Thai food’s deepest principle: not just about spice, but about balance, contrast and the joy of eating with the type of overwhelming flavours that aren’t too much.

Tsukemono (Japan)

At least one sole pickled vegetable would find its way into any Japanese meal. (Photo: Richard Iwaki / Unsplash)

Japanese meals often arrive with something small, brightly coloured and tangy—tsukemono, or pickles. Beyond palate-cleansing, these pickles reflect the Japanese reverence for seasonality and aesthetics. From neon-pink takuan, or daikon, to delicate plum umeboshi, they add contrast in both colour and taste. Historically, they were preservation tools in a humid climate, with salt, rice bran and miso as the mediums. However, they also carry ritual weight, such as umeboshi in rice balls for lunchboxes or chrysanthemum-petal pickles for New Year’s.

Xiao cai (China)

Every banquet begins with xiao cai, which helps set the tone for the flavours and textures to come. (Photo: Junliang Deng / Unsplash)

In China, no banquet begins in silence. Always, it opens with xiao cai, the array of small cold plates that sets the meal’s rhythm. These are not idle snacks but overtures, signalling both the host’s generosity and the kitchen’s range. In Sichuan, you might meet liang ban cucumbers, smashed and glossed in chilli oil (a study in crunch and heat). In Shanghai, perhaps drunken chicken, steeped in Shaoxing wine until the meat tastes faintly floral and boozy.

In Cantonese dining rooms, a plate of shimmering jellyfish salad arrives, its texture both slippery and crisp, meant to awaken the palate. Each dish is light in portion but rich in intention, playing around with hot and cold, crisp and tender, mild and numbing. Taken together, xiao cai acts as an introduction, a series of opening notes that prepare the diner for the banquet’s drama to come.

Lalapan and sambal (Indonesia)

Sambal, perhaps Indonesia’s most famous sauce, is a matter of personal preference. (Photo: Aldino Hartan Putra / Unsplash)

In Indonesia, fried chicken or fish rarely comes alone. It’s accompanied by lalapan, a side of raw herbs, cucumbers and greens and, of course, a rainbow of sambals: sambal matah with shallots, sambal terasi with shrimp paste, sambal ijo with green chillies. These sides are about ironies and freshness, turning fried food into a lively, customisable affair. Much like in the Philippines, sambals are deeply personal: every region, even every household, claims its own definitive version.

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