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”?

I’m amazed that Viengthong has hung in there for so long. It’s in a half-abandoned (Jasmine Provincial Vietnamese Restaurant is now next door), easily forgotten, sad little strip mall off the main drag of Rainier Avenue on Martin Luther King. The property looks dingy on the outside, while inside it tries hard for hut-like ambiance (reminding me of the prior look of Malay Satay Hut). It feels dated. And it seems like the same server has been there for years—and perhaps hasn’t cut her hair since she started working there. (It’s almost as long as she is.) She does her work diligently, always looking like she’s about to crack a smile…without ever doing so.

What I especially like is that Viengthong serves sticky rice in the bamboo baskets, and using that as the baseline of my order, I want to get som tum (papaya salad) with it, along with BBQ chicken. It’s a classic trio, and the sticky rice (best eaten by hand) is perfect for sopping up the sauces. Seems like too much sticky rice at first, but you’ll be wanting it if you order the papaya salad with any degree of heat, which rises to infernal at Viengthong. This isn’t a restaurant for the pepper-phobic; it’s refreshing to go to a place that doesn’t dumb down the spice.

My dining companion wanted soup, so intrigued by seeing suki yaki on the menu (isn’t that Japanese?), we ordered a large bowl. Not my favorite broth, but I liked the bean thread noodles. Worth a try. At these prices (everything is under $9.00, unless you order seafood), there’s much to try on the menu without worry of blowing the budget. Viengthong isn’t the most dynamic restaurant around, but with some different dishes, it’s a destination worth seeking out. And maybe you can elicit a smile from the otherwise elusive server?

Cross-posted at Examiner.

Southcenter’s interesting. There are “suburban” shoppers (Caucasians, etc.) who are happy with food court offerings, like cloyingly sweet General Tso’s chicken. On the other hand, there is an Asian population that seems to like, well, cloyingly sweet General Tso’s chicken. Or maybe they might demand something better? I’ve been less-than-thrilled with my Racha experiences in the past, but maybe Southcenter could break the spell cast by the Queen Anne location.

The first dish, golden coconut prawns, stirred my interest. Too much breading (though with nice coconut flavoring): I want plump, fresh shrimp instead. It was the accompanying pineapple-dill sauce, though, that caught my eye and my tongue. “This is different,” I thought. Not a good match, in my mind, but I was happy to see the attempt.

A lot of the appetizers are typical Thai/Asian offerings—ones that would go well with a drink in the bar (Racha has ramped up its beverage menu), and that would have mainstream appeal. Crab and shrimp in wonton skins did little for me, but the Vietnamese chicken wings were fun, especially dipped in the spicy nam pla sauce. Most surprising were the calamari sticks, with 7-spice flavoring that made them addictive. At first glance, I thought they were French fries; I’d prefer to have tentacles and odd-shaped bits and pieces, but the sliced up calamari steaks are more cost-effective and easy to cook—and safer for the skittish diner to try.

More interesting for me was moo ma now (grilled marinated pork) with shredded cabbage and a bright chili-lime-garlic sauce. I also enjoyed the ginger beef, though the fried sesame wonton skins were not necessary for me.

Salads were good. Asian duck salad had tender slices of duck and nice touches like Chinese red dates and chestnuts. And the green papaya salad was fresh-tasting and surprisingly spicy. It’s always nice to see sticky rice served with this salad, as it’s great for mopping up any extra sauce.

I asked for my Malaysian fish laksa extra spicy, and Racha delivered. This soup isn’t as common in Seattle as I’d like it to be, and since finding it unexpectedly during a recent trip to West Virginia, I’d been craving it. At this point in the meal, the Racha crew told me that they don’t like to add too much heat to their dishes, for fear of masking the flavors. I’m not quite sure if that’s true, as I’ve had incredibly spicy food in Thailand that I enjoyed, but was grateful that they powered up the peppers in the laksa. The broth was good and rich in taste, but I wanted longer, thicker noodles than what they served.

Entrées were a mixed bag. The jumbo prawns prikkhing was unappealing, as the shrimp were overcooked and the flavors uninteresting. The pork bulgogi might best be left to the Koreans, as this preparation left little impression on me, and I’m not sure what was meant by the green noodles mentioned on the menu. Indochine chicken curry was good enough, but typical of Thai food in being not enough to make me want to go out to eat. On the other hand, goong ob woonsen (prawns in a clay pot) represented everything I want from this type of dining experience: an introduction to new ingredients and/or preparation, eye-opening presentation, and mouth-watering taste. It was my favorite dish of the night, with its glass noodles, pork fat, shiitake mushrooms, and topping bitter greens. (See the recipe here.)

I’d urge Racha and other Thai restaurants to serve some lesser-known but perhaps more authentic dishes. I would have liked to have tried the hung-lay lamb (a curry preparation featuring buttersquash—whatever that would turn out to be) or the hot and sour pork shank. Different meats (or cuts of meats), different vegetables, different herbs, and different preparations—like what’s served at the restaurant’s family (staff) meal. (I recall it was a duck liver dish that night.) Of concern is that the owners said some of the least popular menu items, like the salted fish fried rice, will drop off the menu. I think this is a shame, as I like to see restaurants offer different dishes and promote them. (My favorite model is Bamboo Garden, which gently encourages its customers to experiment with a choice from its “Walk on the Wild Side Menu”—the translation of the Chinese menu, often the better food, which is usually not accessible to non-Chinese speakers.)

I hope Racha can try to expand its menu—and its customers’ taste. And I hope that what’s happening at Southcenter, now hailed as the flagship of the chain, will extend to its other restaurants, including the Queen Anne site, and to other Thai restaurants in Seattle. I’m tired of talking about how Thai food in Seattle won’t float my boat until we get boat noodles, or even better, restaurants like Las Vegas’ Lotus of Siam or Queens’ Sripraphai, which I recently visited. Racha has an opportunity to help make that happen, and I hope they do; otherwise, I’ll be paying a visit and asking to eat the family meal.

Cross-posted on Examiner.

During our trips to New York, we’ve learned that you can stop almost anywhere along the #7 train and find fabulous food in Queens. Just last year we discovered Sripraphai and were delighted. Someone at an adjoining table had recommended the crispy Chinese watercress salad. We like crispy. We like Chinese watercress. And on the road, especially after eating lots of offal and other meat, we like a chance to eat salad. Should you not like salad, you might still want to try this one, as the watercress is batter-fried! And it’s got wonderful flavors, with the usual Thai harmony of sweet, sour, salty and spicy. (Well, this one’s not too spicy, but read on.) Red onion, green onion and cilantro contribute flavor, and the salad comes with shrimp, squid, chicken, and cashews. We loved it the first time around, and it was a must-have this time, too. (Next time, though, we might have to try the crispy thai catfish meat salad.)

We wanted some soup, and my love of the offbeat led me to the “beef’s offal soup.” This was delightfully spicy and sour, with lemongrass and cilantro stems and leaves providing nice herbal notes. While I was happy to see liver and tripe, it was the melt-in-your-mouth tendon that I liked the best. Then for an entree we shared the roasted duck in hot and spicy sauce. The duck was very tender, but it was the intensity of the spicy that impressed me most. No dumbing down the dishes here! I’ve cooked with Thai eggplant (green, golf-ball sized wonders) a lot, but I’ve never known them to take on heat like they did in this dish. It’s rare for me to be reaching for the rice as much as I did here—happily so.

Having had a week of Thai cooking classes with Kasma Loha-Unchit, I don’t go out for Thai food often, despite the ridiculous number of Thai restaurants in Seattle. The menus are similar and I find the food generally disappointing. What we need is a place like Sripraphai (or Las Vegas’ Lotus of Siam, which is also amazing). We need a Thai restaurant with wide variety in the menu, including preparations not normally found elsewhere. A Thai restaurant that offers an awful lot of offal. A Thai restaurant that’s reasonably priced for what it offers. A Thai restaurant that delivers the pepper power that it promises, without dumbing it down. Sripraphai is all those things. But, heck, I’d settle for a Thai Boat Noodle joint at this point. (I’ll try to remember to post about my noodle boat experiences in L.A. earlier this year.)