Tongue Thai’d

It’s hard to believe that this time last year, I was still fresh off the plane from Thailand. For weeks, I still dreamed of stone temples and skyscrapers, street markets and tuk-tuks, elephants and endless green plains.

Even now, so many months removed, the taste of numbing chilies lingers on my lips, a haunting memory that teases at the tip of my tongue. Northern California is not lacking in exceptional eateries, yet none can quite match the full experience. Actually being in Thailand to enjoy the native cuisine probably has a lot to do with the flavor, more so than the mere ingredients.

Taking into account that one can never quite match the full bouquet of flavors, complemented by the nuances that each cook uses to season their dish, as passed down by generations of chefs and mothers and eaters alike, I was able to take away quite a few lessons on Thai cookery that have served me very well since then. It’s truly selfishness, and laziness, that has kept me from sharing the secrets abroad. Well, the time has come to divulge at least a taster of those truths! It all comes down to the expertise from May Kaidee‘s legendary cooking school.

Alongside about a half-dozen other hungry students, we learned straight from the source how to make the best Thai food anywhere in the world. It all comes down to balance, like everything else in life, and quality ingredients. That should come as no surprise, but it was the tiniest little things that shook me to the core, completely changing the character of a dish in unexpected ways. Whereas I had always thought that the delicate perfume of lemongrass, that fibrous stalky aromatic, was the key to essential “Thai” taste, it turned out that makrut lime leaves were actually the silent source. Otherwise known as kaffir lime, the zest and juice add their own piquancy of course, but those tender green leaves, difficult to source fresh overseas, held the key. Grassy yet mild, sweet but subdued, they’re the vanilla extract to every savory success; adored yet rarely identified and properly celebrated.

Furthermore, tom kha paste, a shortcut ingredient I would have looked down my nose at on grocery store shelves, comes to life in a completely new palate when made from scratch. Every home cook has their own blend, just like a curry paste of any color, but May Kaidee’s stands alone as more than mere soup stock.

We smeared it atop sliced seedless cucumbers piled high with sticky rice and pumpkin hummus, lending a gentle burn, a comforting warmth, to the whole assembly.

Then there was the pad Thai, one of the last dishes I would ever order at a restaurant. Nothing against the noodles, but most renditions I’ve twisted around my fork have been gluey, sugary lumps of starch, with vegetables being few and far between. No, this isn’t how it should be! Replacing the egg with an startling splash of coconut milk, of all things, we were taught that this keeps the strands of rice vermicelli lubricated while enriching the light coating of sauce. Never would I have dreamed of trying such an incongruous addition, but there it was, advised by the experts and working its magic in real time.

Som tum is a light starter salad that I have certainly dabbled with in the past, but never put the proper muscle into. Lazily mixing raw vegetables in a bowl, it turns out that technique is everything in this application. Do not give in to the food processor and think you can just blend the base for an equivalent outcome. It takes just as much time, if a bit more elbow grease, to bust out that mortar and pestle to do a proper pounding.

At first, I was aghast at the inclusion of exotics such as pineapple, corn, and the suggestion of apples, even grapes! Previously these items would have struck me as “inauthentic” interlopers that had no place on this plate, but it goes back to balance. Yes, while green papaya salad should be primarily sour, bitter, and spicy, it still needs a dose of sweetness to balance everything out. Don’t forget the peanuts for a satisfyingly crisp crunch. That’s not just the western love of the legume speaking; Thais truly love the goober, too.

Hungry for more than the basic sustenance of these staple foods, we devoured platters of spring rolls, vats of curries and stews, steamer baskets heaping with rice, trying to take in the knowledge as if it could be directly consumed. From start to finish, the revelations arrived with a smile, a spoonful, a laugh and a dance. If there’s one thing you do in Thailand, let it be a lesson on how to bring this cuisine back home in its full-flavored, unabridged glory. If that’s still a venture too far to consider, I’ve heard May Kaidee has setup shop state-side in New York City, too…

Better study up to keep the ball rolling, along with your tender wheat wrappers or softened rice papers, to get a taste of Thailand in any kitchen.

May Kaidee Restaurant and Cooking School
59 Ratchadamnoen Avenue
Talat Yot, Phra Nakhon, Bangkok 10200
Thailand

Closing Time

In the final days of the year, it’s natural to look back, taking stock of the previous twelve months, preparing to move forward anew. Rather than unleashing another navel-gazing list of top ten greatest hits, I want to take a moment to remember the dearly departed. 2019 saw the untimely demise of hundreds of restaurants across the nation, fickle business that it is, but it feels particularly poignant when it hits so close to home. The bay area has lost some bright stars this round, which deserve to be properly honored and mourned.

Early in February, while we were still recovering from winter’s torrential rains, Hella Vegan Eats shocked the east bay with a controversial departure from Classic Cars West. After fighting tooth and nail to graduate from their colorful food truck to a static brick and mortar space, it was a huge blow. No more pot sticker burritos, no more mega babe burgers! The same style of ballsy, down home comfort food has resurfaced in the form of Gay4U, revived by partner Sofi Espice at Garden House in downtown Oakland as a regular pop up.

Meanwhile, chef Adina Butler took up the reins in the freshly vacated space left behind by the duo, slinging hearty sandwiches, burgers, and fried delights to compliment the casual outdoor space. Sadly, that too was not long for this world, folding seven months later under unknown circumstances. What remains is a very vegan-unfriendly menu, and many unanswered questions.

Perhaps most devastating to the dining scene at large was the closure of Sanctuary Bistro, one of the very few high-end eateries that offered an entirely plant-based experience, in addition to a completely gluten-free menu. Owners Barry and Jennifer Jones Horton promise that in time, the sanctuary will rise again in Charlotte, NC, to delight diners on the opposite coast anew. Birth announcements have yet to be released.

Longstanding greasy spoon Saturn Cafe seemed indestructible, weathering the ups and downs of Berkeley politics and pricing for over a decade, proving itself beyond the typical short lifespan of the average eatery. It, too, fell to economic pressures, serving up its last plate of scrambled tofu and pancakes in July. The original Santa Cruz location, established in 1979, still soldiers on, but NorCal denizens are left in the dark for their midnight milkshake cravings.

Eatsa launched in San Francisco back in 2015 as an innovative, tech-centric concept centered around one humble grain: quinoa. Served in cubbies reminiscent of the automat experience of yore, without any human interaction, it was slated to be the next big thing. At its height, the company had six locations across multiple states, but soon ran into difficulties. No amount of pricing incentives and recipe reconfiguration could save it. One by one, all outposts quietly turned out the lights, and didn’t return. Supposedly, in addition to the empty retail spaces, they left behind a reported $24,000 in unpaid rent.

In a world already lacking sweetness, the departure of D&H Vegan Ice Cream comes as a particularly devastating blow. Without warning or explanation, the scoop shop was suddenly wiped off the map overnight. The soy based scoops melted away faster than I had time to get in a single lick, sweetening the Lake Merrit area for just a hot minute.

The prize for shortest run goes to Collective Kitchen & Bar, however, surviving on shaky footing for only three months of operation. A spinoff from three members of Juice Bar Collective, the offerings largely reflected their fresh pressed heritage, squeezing out juices, salads, and rice bowls with apparent success. Landlords don’t care about social media reviews, though, and an irreconcilable dispute forced a premature end for the venture.

Not a restaurant per say, but the source of noodle enlightenment to many, Baia Pasta was renowned for its superlative noodles. Selling directly to consumers from its storefront in Jack London Square and restaurants for their comforting carb creations, the cost of doing business became too much for founder Renato Sardo to bear. Unwilling to sell the company at the cost of quality, the legacy of this peerless pasta ends here, while the master returns to Italy for a simpler life.

Finally, some good news to mix in and lighten all the bad; Pizza Moda, purveyors of fine pies with an eye towards seasonal ingredients and vegan alternatives, has turned off the pilot light on their pizza oven, but not for long. Celebrated brother and sister duo Peter Fikaris and Christina Stobing, responsible for The Butcher’s Son, have taken on the project, seeking to revive the fine Italian dining experience in a fully vegan format. With the promise of even greater eats on the horizon, there’s plenty to look forward to in 2020.

Which losses do you feel most acutely, at home or abroad? Restaurants come and go, but their memories (and Yelp pages) live on forever, if the community remains.