Dish:

On the plate: Per the menu: “Classic Thai spicy wide rice noodles stir-fried in garlic & chili with veggies beef, Portabello and other mushrooms.” The other mushrooms are shiitake and white button mushrooms, and there’s also red and green bell pepper, asparagus, and fried Thai basil.

Supporting cast/What to do: You’ll be asked how spicy you want the dish, but the dishes are less spicy than promised. This surprised me, since Araya’s was features on Food Network’s Heat Seekers as a “Thai restaurant with dishes that bring all comers to their knees.” Be prepared, then, to request the special plate with spoons of spices so that you can raise the roof on the heat.

Noodling around: Drunken mushrooms features one of my favorite noodles: wide rice noodles. They’re fresh and essentially flash-cooked in the wok to warm them through, with their wideness keeping them a prominent part of the dish. Their size enables them to absorb flavors and carry the sauce–and they still have the chew that sometimes gets lost in thinner noodles.

In this preparation, mushrooms are a key to the flavor. As Araya’s is a vegetarian restaurant, recipes are non-dairy, non-egg, and non-fish sauce. Mushroom sauce substitutes for fish sauce, though this dish also uses sweet soy sauce to impart flavor. Fried Thai basil is nice touch, adding both flavor and texture. And it’s nicely plated, with asparagus artfully arranged.

I was told that “veggies beef” is, as you may have guessed, “fake veggie meat.” I’ve never been a big fan of just throwing this in a dish, but understand if it’s a protein source and an alternative texture.

My only disappointment, as mentioned above, was the spice level. “Mortar-and-pestled” chili peppers (and garlic) should have provided powerful heat, as shown in the Heat Seekers segment. I much prefer to have the chilis cooked into the dish than having to add it in myself–especially if I’ve requested a high spice level.

If you want more: There are many appetizers, but especially if you have company, I recommend the avocado curry ($13.95). I cook a lot of Thai curry, but this is the first time I’ve had it with avocado–and I was pleasantly surprised how well it worked in the dish. This is a green curry, in which you’ll find both soft and fried tofu, more of that veggie beef, bell peppers, Thai basil, and something called “bean composition,” which is apparently made from variations of soy bean.

Be aware/beware: I ended up here after trying to get into OK Noodles, which was surprisingly closed on a Friday night. (Many others encountered a closed restaurant recently, but it’s reopened with new owners, and I featured it in last week’s Mein Man.) So, for those wondering, this is how I found myself in a vegetarian restaurant. I was skeptical at first, but ultimately pleased with the quality and creativity. Araya’s has a way with cooking vegetables. Now, if they’d just boost those spice levels…

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on April 2, 2012.

Dish:

In the bowl: Per the menu: “Small rice noodles, bean sprouts, spinach.” “Small” is written in because “Wide” is crossed out. Beef is the logical choice with boat noodle soup, so I went with that, though chicken, soy chicken, soy beef, and tofu are available for the same price, while shrimp and soy shrimp raise the price to $7.89.

Supporting cast/What to do: This soup comes spicy, but as always, you can ask for extra heat in the way of Sriracha or chili flakes/oil. Stir to mix the ingredients and chili, then eat with a cooling beverage at the ready.

Noodling around: I’ve been looking for authentic boat noodles in Seattle, most recently at Thai Palms. Their version was bland. As I’d heard good things about OK Noodles, I had high expectations that this would be the place. Sadly, high expectations often lead to great disappointment.

While this version had good spice level for heat hounds like me, the soup was simply too sour, as if they squeezed too much lime juice into the bowl. The noodles themselves were okay (I prefer wider ones), and although bean sprouts aren’t normally my thing, they did contribute crunch and cooling effect.

Another problem was the meat, which was one-note. Where’s my tripe and tendon and shank and liver? And where’s the blood? The soup suffered without the pork and beef blood that typically adds a mineral taste that I enjoy.

I remain adrift in a boat noodle-less sea in Seattle. My last chance appears to be Noodle Boat in Issaquah, which I included in our just-released Voracious Dining Guide of favorite restaurants for 2012. They have boat noodles on their menu, but again without sign of meat diversity. If Noodle Boat won’t do a special order, I’ll simply have to go back to Sapp Coffee Shop in Los Angeles for their delicious version.

By the way, my dining companion got the White River Noodle, described as “rice (”egg” was crossed out) noodles, hot & sour soup with coconut milk, mushroom, white onion, lemon grass, lime leaves, and cilantro.” This tasted like thick, sweetened coconut milk with the “hot” there, but the “sour” missing. Maybe OK’s cook squeezed my companion’s limes into my bowl by mistake? Or maybe not. Both bowls were unbalanced, consistent with other bad reports I’ve heard of late.

If you want more: For the name alone, you have to go for the “Diet Soft Rolls” ($5.67, standard for all the appetizers–and do you see the theme of sequential, numerical pricing?). A healthy contrast to crisp rolls, these contain “Soy prawn & tofu, rice noodles, lettuce, carrot, basil, cilantro, and green leave” and are “Served with a sweet & spicy sauce.” Did I lose you at “crisp”? If so, one below on the menu is a crispy onion ring which is “deep fired.”

Be aware/beware: This is a funky place with deep red colors and menus stuck inside of album covers–you know, the old vinyl kind. Mine was A Chorus Line. There’s also kitschy art on the walls made from dried noodles. Dry humor, I suppose.

Many people have reported that OK Noodles never seems to be open. I was a victim of this myself. The story, it seems, is that the previous owners recently sold and moved to Olympia where they’re operating another restaurant. The new owners have kept the original menu and are settling in. Slowly.

There were no real servers during my visit, so when the restaurant got slammed, the couple was struggling to keep things moving–cooking and carrying out bowls and plates as quickly as they could prepare them. I expect a few bumps in the road before things smooth out, and will be interested to see what changes they make to OK Noodles, if any. This includes the quest to raise the quality to what I’m told it was before the turnover.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on March 26, 2012.

Dish:

On the plate: Per the menu: “Thai noodles mixed with ground peanuts, onion and bean sprouts.” There’s also lots of shredded carrot and purple cabbage, and my meat choice of pork.

Supporting cast/What to do: No supporting cast, and some of the main characters are quite AWOL. You might want to beg for what’s missing, as described below.

Noodling around: Since previous Seattle Weekly restaurant reviewer Jonathan Kauffman tempted me with his review of Thai Palms in 2009, I’ve had it on my to-do list, and only recently I had a chance to try.

I was excited to see boat noodles ($6.99) on the menu, as they’re virtually impossible to find in Seattle. (I’ve had delicious boat noodles in L.A., but here I’ve had to settle for Vietnamese “relative” bun bo hue.) Thai Palms’ menu describes the dish as “Noodles with gently steamed beef, beef ball, tendon and beef tripe in a spicy dark soup.” When the bowl came to table, I immediately knew it was wrong. This was just beef balls and beef chunks in a fairly plain beef soup flavored with fish sauce. Not dark, and certainly not spicy. No tendon. No tripe. No apology. I twice asked the server about the tendon and tripe (he seemed to forget about my first inquiry), and he eventually said that they were simply taken out of the dish.

So…no review of boat noodles this time (there’s another potential place in my sights), so I settled for the pad thai, as the menu screamed “A must try!” and the server said it’s the most popular item at the restaurant. He also promised there was no ketchup used in the preparation.

Turns out there’s also no tamarind, which I don’t understand. Also no salted radish strips or dried shrimp. No tofu. There’s egg, but not the typical omelet strips. Bean sprouts–but cooked in, and not raw. There are some green onions, but very little, and no cilantro or chives for herbal notes. No chilis for heat, and no lime for acidity and sourness. (Isn’t Thai food about the balance of sweet, sour, salty, and spicy?) To top it off, the pork texture was tough. On the positive side, the rice noodles were cooked well, and the cabbage and carrot were colorful.

If you want more: We asked for high spice level on a variety of dishes, but only the papaya salad ($7.99, with “duplicate?” indicated in the online menu) delivered the desired heat. It’s not nearly the best version I’ve had of this dish (the promised dried shrimp were missing), but in contrast to the other dishes we tried, we appreciated its spiciness. Besides, a salad like this, with its crunchiness, is a nice contrast to noodles.

Be aware/beware: …of everything I mentioned above.

The restaurant’s website continues to tout Kauffman’s review, its front page reading: “For delicious Lao dishes, seek out the secret menu at Thai Palms.” I sought it out, and am sad to report that the secret menu no longer exists. The server said the demand wasn’t there, the ingredients wasted, and most of the dishes scrapped–with just a few integrated into the regular menu. What’s left is the hyperbole of pad thai being a “must try” and misinformation about dishes like the boat noodles. Bottom line: a facepalm at Thai Palms.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on March 12, 2012.

Dish:

On the plate: From the menu: “Seasoned stir-fried wide noodles with chicken, egg & garlic. Served over green lettuce. Garnish with ground peanuts & green onions.” Julienned carrots add color and crunch.

Supporting cast/What to do: Spice up your dish if you like from the ubiquitous condiment tray of pickled jalapenos, chili oil, and chili paste.

Noodling around: Ayutthaya Thai serves up the usual Thai noodle suspects: pud Thai, pud see ewe, and pud khee moa (the restaurant’s spelling of the dishes). Looking for something different, I chose the Ayutthaya noodles. Explaining that Ayutthaya was the former capital city of Siam, the server said these noodles were a house specialty not found at other local Thai restaurants.

I love wide noodles, and these are made from fresh rice noodle sheets that are sliced in-house. The width makes them easier to stir fry, as they hold their shape without twisting or breaking. Great texture, with a little bit of bite to them, and straightforward flavors much as you’d expect from the ingredient list. The noodles absorb a sauce made from soy sauce, sugar, and something called Golden Mountain Seasoning Sauce, which like Maggi Seasoning Sauce is simply a flavor enhancer.

If you want more: There are eight appetizers on the menu, mostly fried. Kabong ($5.75) caught my eye. Described as “Fresh squash & corn in a spiced battered,” they’re deep fried and served with sweet and sour sauce. I didn’t detect much corn, and felt like I was eating a side order of sweet potato fries.

Be aware/beware: Portions were pretty small for the price. And service was terribly slow; someone from another table came to mine to tell the server that they were in a rush.

If you want your food spicy, you’ll probably have to exaggerate your request. When the server asked for a spice level between 1 and 5, I requested 7 (thinking they’d dumb it down to 5) and said to serve the food like you’d serve it in Thailand. I thought he understood. Unfortunately, my green papaya salad (a third dish I ordered) was a like 1, and the noodles possibly a 2 at best. I’m guessing you should order at 25 if you want a spicy 5.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on December 26, 2011.

Dish:

On the plate: From the menu: “Tender marinated beef, rice noodles, bamboo shoots, onions, and bell peppers are sautéed with Thai basil and dressed in sweet soy sauce and rice wine.” From the photo, you can see that there’s also broccoli in the dish.

Supporting cast: Nothing, but you can ask for some sort of chili if you’d like to spice it up.

What to do: Just eat.

Noodling around: Drunken noodles (phad kee mao) is one of those all-too-common dishes found on virtually every Thai restaurant’s menu, usually just below the phad Thai–as is the case at Indochine. I was actually leaning toward the spicy Siamese noodles, as the menu describes it as a “vivid Indochine original,” but the server talked me out of it, promoting the drunken noodles as the fan favorite.

I’m a sucker for broad rice noodles, which I find comforting in a preparation like this, stir-fried nice and soft. They absorb a lot of the cooking liquid, which should be a balance of sweet, salty, and spicy. Unfortunately, at Indochine, despite a request for a medium spice level (lower than usual, to accommodate my dining partner), I could barely detect any heat. The server brought me some chili oil from the kitchen, though I think that pickled chilies in vinegar might also have been worth adding.

Indochine is a little upscale, and the $13.95 price might be sticker shock to some. But note that the portion size was good, and the beef and vegetables were of fine quality.

If you want more: I was actually unenthused about the overall menu, and while I knew I wanted noodles, my dining companion and I struggled to find a second dish of interest. This is my main complaint about most Thai restaurants in the area, as they do not offer the wide range of dishes you’ll find in Thailand. I asked the server if there were any organ meats to prepare; he sent the chef out, who told me that if I called in advance, he’d be able to prepare something special. I then asked what the family meal would be, and he sent out a Thai-Mexican concoction for us to sample. Since you won’t likely get that, I’d recommend trying the “Nemesis Flourless Chocolate Cake with Gelato” ($7.95), as it’s not often that you’ll see a gelato case in the front of a Thai restaurant, or the word “nemesis” on a menu.

Be aware/beware: There are a few “Indochine” restaurants south of Seattle. I won’t get into the history of the restaurants here, as that involves some alleged family disputes. I can tell you that there’s also an Indochine on Pearl in Tacoma, which is more casual with lower prices (and a few more menu items). And then there’s the Indochine Seafood and Satay Bar in Federal Way, which gets good reviews. Still, the menus are safe and non-adventurous. In contrast, check the upcoming print version of Seattle Weekly for my pick of the best Thai restaurant in the area.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on June 21, 2011.

Dish:

In the bowl: Per the menu: “rice noodles & rare beef in spicy rich broth,” but that’s not the end of the story.

Supporting cast: A tray with chili flakes, chili oil, and whole chilis.

What to do: You can order this at heat level 0-4, and then adjust with the chilis on your table. Otherwise, just eat.

Noodling around: I first came to the restaurant with a large group, and we asked the server for suggestions. After we steered away from all of them (including the ever-safe Phad Thai), he declared us the best group he’s ever had for trying more adventurous dishes.

In fact, there’s a section called “The Adventurous” on the menu, and here you’ll find two very interesting noodle options. The kao soy is good, its pickled mustard greens the star, but I especially like the guay tiow nua nom tok.

The description fails to capture the complexity, so let’s break down the Thai. Guay tiow (or guay teow) is rice noodles. Nua indicates beef. So far we’ve got beef rice noodles. Nom tok (or nam tok) means waterfall, and in this case refers to the bloody liquid that falls from grilling meat. At Spice Room, pork blood is added to the broth, giving it depth and a slightly minerally, earthy taste.

Dried rice noodles (the same as what’s used in Phad Thai) become the vehicle to sop up the delicious, bloody broth. The beef is tender and fried papadum strips add nice texture.

If you want more: If you’re looking for something small, a side of cucumber salad ($3) will probably do the trick, offering a complementary fresh, acidic bite to the soup. But I’d recommend staying adventurous and trying the trout salad ($9). Spice World does an excellent version of this, featuring mango, cashew, onion, and tomato atop a sliced-open trout. The lime vinaigrette is a perfect partner, and you can probably go higher in spice level than what your server recommends.

Be aware/beware: This is a very pleasant Thai restaurant with tables against a banquette along one wall, and four-tops divided by sheer fabric (my preferred seating) along the other wall. It’s probably the best atmosphere of any Thai restaurant in Seattle, with perhaps the best food.

What holds Spice Room back is its timidity to be full-on Thai. While I applaud the “Adventurous” menu, why hide the fact that there’s pork blood in a broth? Advertise it. Don’t steer customers to just the safe dishes, and be bolder with spice levels. And if offering fun dishes like mieng kham, make it an authentic experience. Part of the fun of filling the betel leaves is the variety of fillings and getting the balance of flavors right, so it’s inexcusable to have to ask for dried shrimp–a standard ingredient of this dish.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on June 7, 2011.

Dish:

Place: Kamrai Thai Cuisine, Shoreline

Price: $9.50

In the Bowl: Per the menu: “Rice noodle with steam beef, green onions, cilantro and bean prouts.”

Supporting Cast: A caddy of condiments: salt, chili flakes, chili oil, and Sriracha, I believe.

What to do: Just eat. You can spice up the soup if you like, but if you order as I did, that won’t be necessary.

Noodling around: Your server will ask you what spice level you’d like. I told him I wanted it very spicy, and he eagerly asked, “Ten?” I nodded yes, but then quickly asked the numerical range. “One to five,” he said with a smile. I smiled back, satisfied with the thought of a perfect ten.

Ten it was. This was a barn-burner. (My companion’s phad keemao was similarly spicy.) But that was the only thing that made me feel a connection to Thailand, where I remember sweating over my soup, happily, my first meal there.

To me, boat noodles (kuay tiow reua) should have at least the option of a variety of meats, including offal. I’m talking beef balls, liver, tripe, crispy fried pig skin, beef tendon, and pork blood cubes. The soup should be dark, murky, and maybe even a bit mineral-like. Just as I recall it at the fabulously hole-in-the-wall Sapp Coffee Shop in Los Angeles, where a bowl is about half the price as here. Sadly, besides missing the meats, Kamrai’s soup lacked complexity, boring me with its one note-ness.

If still hungry: Given the high prices and limited selection (see below), and a desire for something for vegetables, I’d go for the deep-fried (there are no fresh) spring rolls, stuffed with mixed vegetables and cellophane noodles (almost the cheapest appetizer at $6.75). Salads are all priced over ten dollars, and are all protein-based.

Be aware/beware: Kamrai is in the location that was once Uthaithani–which was much better in quality. In a city loaded with Thai restaurants that all have fairly uniform menus Kamrai’s menu is even more basic than most. (Where’s our Pok Pok? Our Lotus of Siam? Our SriPraPhai? And where are there real boat noodles?) It’s uninspiring and expensive. Though I am curious to know what the “American snow” (from the “dsserts” section) is all about…

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on January 25, 2011.

Each time I visit, I start my meal with Mieng Kum: roasted coconut, peanuts, red onion, Thai chili, ginger, lime, palm sugar sauce, and dried shrimp that go into a cha-pu leaf. Wrap it, eat it, and experience a sensation of flavors in your mouth.

Noodle Boat will make some dishes by special request if you ask ahead. Pictured here is grilled baby octopus.

Another favorite is the BBQ chicken. The sauce is a bit on the sweet side, but the dish is great to pair with more spicy offerings.

Noodle Boat serves their phad Thai inside an egg. This may be a conservative choice of dishes, but they do a good job with it. There’s so much more on the menu to explore. Next, I’m looking forward to a dish called “Queen of Banana.”

One:

The problem was that a lot of people decided to check out Thai Curry Simple after the review. My companion and I were part of an initial surge of people arriving just before noon, and while the restaurant had supposedly been open since 10am, we were all informed that only massamun curry was ready. What? That’s not a problem due to crowds, but a problem of being unprepared.

Two: We waited, because we wanted the Panang curry. I make a lot of curry at home, and can tell you that this curry flavor was fabulous. Very clean-tasting, with spices shining through. But this plate was just chicken and rice. Oh, some kaffir lime leaf remnants, but nothing in the curry save for the chicken (which was nice and tender).

Three: Maybe the picture on the wall menu should have tipped me off that the curry was chicken-only, but that wall menu also shows the pad thai as being a full plate of noodles. It’s not. It’s half noodles, and half rice. I asked about the rice, and they said it’s like a bonus. Not at the expense of more noodles, I say. Starch with starch? That said, the pad thai is pretty good, with tamarind instead of ketchup, but again simple: just chicken, some bean sprouts, green onion, and egg. I prefer mine with the added complexity of salted radish (for texture), dried shrimp (for texture and taste), lime (for acidity), and peanuts (for the added danger of toxicity).

Four: These dishes are all five dollars. Okay, that’s a bargain. It’s not a huge portion; my petite dining companion says one dish isn’t enough for a physical worker, but it’s a fair price for what you get.

Five: Hot sauce. Yes, it says “no kidding” on the container, and it’s super-hot. Ask for it, as it might be hiding at another table.

Six: The older Thai lady. She’s there. Hanging about, organizing things, occasionally filling water glasses. Smile, and you might get her to smile back.

Seven: Shampoo. Yes, there are sample packs of shampoo there. I did notice that the business card says the restaurant’s also a general store.

Eight: Dessert and other dishes. I saw someone eating som tum (green papaya salad), so there’s apparently a secret menu available. Need to work on that, or get them to explain more. Also, there’s a menu board full of dessert roti (and a couple of savory options, too). We were hungry enough to try them, but we were late enough (it took nearly an hour to get our food, partly due to a delay in ordering) to have to skip them.

Nine: The bathroom. Does it exist, or does it not? Depends on who you ask. I asked the husband, and he (at first fairly reluctantly) said it was in the back before guiding us through the kitchen to use it. Later, I saw others ask but be told that there’s no bathroom. No bathroom in a restaurant?

Ten: It’s cute. Thai Curry Simple has a coffeehouse-feel. I’d like to go back there and hang out if they get their act together. It’s that simple.

Buddha Ruksa serves up some beautiful plates, placing it in the upper echelon of Thai restaurants in the Seattle area. Not as high as Noodle Boat in Issaquah, which might be the best around, but certainly a solid choice and worth a try in West Seattle. I especially like that they offer a selection of trout dishes, including an interesting skin-on trout salad.

For pho, there are so many choices in town. And many of those places have numbers in their names, which made me interested in finding out why. More straightforward is the use of a number in Time 4 Pho, Magnolia’s pho joint. There’s a fuller menu that includes salads, vermicelli bowls, and rice plates, but I was there for the $7 large bowl of pho that came with a choice of meats and use of the pho condiment bar.

The Signature opened in the old Moxie space in lower Queen Anne. It’s a family-run operation, with friendly folks who are working seemingly endless hours to bring some new dishes to this part of town. (They also have seemingly endless happy hours. After lunch, all but 6-8pm is happy hour?)

But I’m not sure whether the soup bowls are an indictment on the restaurant, or its customers. The pho ($8 small, $9 large) broth isn’t bad, though I can travel and get something better for half the price. And those bowls will include choices that go beyond rare beef, well-done beef, and beef meatballs. Where’s my tendon and tripe, providing textures and tastes that I love in pho?

Then there’s the bun bo Hue, which The Signature calls “spicy beef rice noodle soup” ($10). Again, it’s got good flavor, and I’ve seen other customers enjoying it. But I missed the congealed pork blood cubes and pork feet–or at least a hock–that make this bowl beautifully special. (And that I can enjoy by driving to the south of Seattle.)

The Signature says that they fear people won’t eat these soups as they’re meant to be served. I say that omitting these key ingredients is dumbing the dishes down, and not allowing people to discover a bowl of dreams.

End of rant, except to add that after all these months, I don’t understand why a quote from the PR firm representing The Signature appears on their “reviews” webpage. That makes the Yelp quotes seem, well, credible.

Is it better Vietnamese soups you’re seeking? Get to the International District or further south on Rainier, and you’ll find some restaurants offering good ones. But one I’ll miss is Tu Oanh, which offered some delicious bowls until it closed recently. I liked the Hu Tieu Nam Vang Nuoc/Kho (Cambodian rice noodle soup) with its ground pork, fish meatball, prawn, and “meat load” (I couldn’t resist sharing that typo!), but even better was the Bun Mang Vit – a noodle soup with fresh baby bamboo shoots and cabbage salad with herbs, fried shallots, and bone-in duck breast, served with a sauce that contained grated ginger.

Transitioning to Chinese food, I checked out the recently opened Noodle King upon hearing that they offer hand-pulled noodles. For $2, it’s fun to watch the noodle show, but the Taiwanese beef noodle soup was disappointing, as the broth was weak.

Chiang’s Gourmet receives much fanfare, especially from folks on the northside who don’t want to travel to the International District or Bellevue for Chinese food. I’ve had brunch there and found it consistently, well, brown. Not bad, but as with all the other dim sum places in the area, not compelling enough to make me return. I continue to hold off on dim sum until I get north of the border to Richmond. Dinner offers a variety of Chinese fare, from congee with pork and egg preserved in lime to tea-smoked duck to stuffed bittermelon. Overall, the dishes are a mixed bag, though I do like that they serve “steamed tofu of strong odor” (stinky tofu).

One of my favorite restaurant find, courtesy of food-loving friends, is Ton Kiang B.B.Q. Noodle House in the International District. The modest little restaurant is basically a brother and sister act delivering quality dishes at quaint prices. There are soups (noodle and otherwise) and other items on the menu, but the real reason to come here is the beauty of the meats. There’s roasted and BBQ pig and duck, but my favorite is the poached chicken. Given my love of spicy food, my love of this subtle dish might come as a bit of a surprise, but the chicken, which is free-range (!), is simply delicious. Oh…and the sauce that accompanies it spices it up nicely. Seriously good stuff.

And finally, on the BBQ front, way back when I visited Old Village Korean BBQ Restaurant. The service was strange and the music mix from Michael Bolton to Led Zeppelin was even stranger. The food was okay. I’ve found better Korean food in Federal Way, and have a few new places on the to-do list. We did a lot of grilling; after all, who can resist “born less short rips”?