Around the World in 80 Dinners - Bill Jamison [66]
Thais play metaphorically with food in many popular expressions and sayings. A sen yai (big noodle) refers to an important person, and khoa mai plaa man (new rice, juicy fish) describes the passionate early stage of a romantic relationship. We revel in some splendid Thai food in Bangkok, but too much of what we get is manao mai mii naam (like lime without juice), not worth the bother.
In the few scant decades since a bridge first connected Phuket to the Thai mainland in the 1970s, the large offshore island has become a tourism phenomenon. It leaped quickly into worldwide prominence as a beach destination, brought economic vitality and jobs to southern Thailand, and spawned a flock of copycat resorts in the region. Since our days of writing travel guides to the Caribbean, Hawaii, and Mexico, we’ve been curious about the prodigy and eager to see it. The devastating tsunami during the Christmas season in 2004 cut sharply into the local boom, leaving Phuket desperate for visitors and temporarily bringing prices down, other lures for us on this trip.
The fabulous Amanpuri resort slashed its rates for the first time ever by 50 percent for most of 2005, reducing the cost of its entry-level Garden Pavilion rooms from U.S. $800 to $400. It’s long been a yearning of ours to stay at one of the Aman properties—particularly this one, the first of the elite chain’s hotels and a model for the rest. On Bali, we had dinner at the Amandari, a close cousin, and now we’re digging deep into our travel budget to indulge in a one-night, half-priced stay here.
An indulgence it is. Our bungalow sits among forty others of various sizes, all shielded from one another by lush vegetation, on a hillside overlooking the restaurants, bay, broad and sandy beach, and large, blue-tiled infinity pool. After leading us up several tiers of stairs to reach the room, the receptionist introduces us gradually to the amenities, starting with the two private outdoor lazing spaces, one in the sun with a couple of chaise longues and the other a covered pavilion, or sala, with a ceiling fan and a low Thai-style dining table with comfortable cushion seating. Bill says, “Add an outhouse and this area alone would shame most hotel rooms.”
But there’s more, of course, inside, all exquisitely understated in the hotel’s gracefully unfussy way. Stunning woodwork in macah, which resembles rosewood, envelops us everywhere, on the floors, shutters, desk, night tables, beams, and a planter in the sprawling bathroom holding probably the largest, most effusively blooming orchid either of us has ever seen. To keep us from getting crosswise, we each have our own closet, luggage stand, vanity, toiletries, even phones if we wish, plus a choice of a shower or a soaking tub in case we want to wash our pampered bodies at the same time. “How come there’s only one toilet?” Cheryl asks Bill. “I’ll take it and you can have the outhouse.”
One night for us equals four meals, including a simple pre-departure room-service lunch in our swimsuits at our sala. Our other lunch and a dinner feature Thai specialties, better prepared than at any of the Bangkok hotels where we tried similar dishes. Since Phuket is known for glorious seafood, both of us order lab talay for our introductory repast shortly after reaching the Amanpuri. A chopped mix of small shrimp, calamari, scallops, fish, and kaffir lime, it comes with rice. The kitchen seasons the dish assertively, trying with some sincerity to follow our request to make it Thai-style.
At dinner, we stop first in the bar for the house specialty, a lime and lemongrass crush with rum and orange liqueur. In the evening Amanpuri offers a choice of two restaurants, an open-air poolside pavilion for Thai food and an enclosed air-conditioned space for Italian fare, currently, of course, the trendiest of international