Around the World in 80 Dinners - Bill Jamison [65]
A delightful lady, we gradually discover, she speaks English well and offers to help us with her four-hundred-item menu, all in Thai. From online reports on the restaurant, we’ve decided in advance to order a couple of Thai classics, mee krob and banana blossom salad. Cheryl asks her, “What else would you recommend to fill out a little Thai feast?”
She thinks about the question briefly. “I would get a green curry with chicken and the eggplant salad called makheua yao.” Everything astounds us, including the fresh lemonade, laced here with a little salt as well as sugar, which is common in Thailand. The eggplant salad, a gem, features slim, long slices of the vegetable, smoky and soft from the fire, in a light sauce with shallots, kaffir lime, palm sugar, cilantro, dried shrimp, bits of chicken, and slivers of incandescent fresh green chile. The lovely banana blossom salad comes with a tangy dressing of tamarind, coconut milk, and dried red chiles, along with shrimp and chicken.
A tangle of thin, caramelized rice noodles fried crisply, the mee krob arrives with shrimp seared perfectly on serious wok heat and a syrupy sauce enhanced by a rare, sour citrus known as som sa. Well balanced in all respects, it has none of the cloying sweetness often associated with the dish in the United States. The green curry inspires awe, dancing a tightrope of contrasting flavors high above any other version either of us has tasted. The tender chicken gives it body, and fantastically fresh Thai basil adds spicy anise undertones. Two kinds of round eggplants swim in the broth, one the size of plump peas to eat whole so that they pop in the mouth with zesty bitterness. Cheryl asks the owner what gives the curry its brilliance. “Just making the curry paste the traditional way, by hand daily. Not many people bother with that anymore.”
They certainly don’t seem to at many of the other Thai restaurants we try. The rain, forcing us to abandon the quest for good street food, drives us to seek inside shelter for most meals at places reachable by foot, taxi, or public transportation without getting soaked. Once each, we take a chance on the upscale Thai establishments at our hotels. At Sala Rim Naam in The Oriental, which excelled on our previous visit, Western sweet and salty tastes dominate the ersatz Thai dishes. In Spice and Rice at the Siam City, we enjoy only the bar’s signature drink, the Red Elephant (watermelon juice with vodka and a splash of Curaçao), and the handsome table service, including a diminutive elephant hot-sauce holder that Cheryl manages to buy from the staff.
The kitchen comes closer to authentic Thai tastes at the Spice Market in the Four Seasons Hotel and Celadon in the elegant Sukhothai Hotel. The chefs at both, obviously talented, deliver a local riff on what the international hospitality trade characterizes as “fine dining.” They translate Thai ideas and flavors in worldly ways, satisfying in many respects but ultimately lacking the robustness and complexity of the cuisine at its truest. Celadon’s duck curry or the Spice Market’s banana blossom salad might excite us in New Mexico, but not in Bangkok.
If hotels must cater to international interests, we wish they would handle it in a straightforward way, as The Oriental does at its bountiful buffet breakfast, served in a beautiful setting right on the river. Area growers provide the lusciously fresh fruit and other produce, and skilled bakers make a global array of breads, including croissants and pain au chocolat flakier and more buttery than most versions in France today. Depending