I am Asian, Filipina to be exact, and I have been living in Bangkok for eight years. Nearly a decade in everyone’s top culinary destination sounds like a dream, right? Unfortunately, because of my gene mutation, otherwise known as my coriander revulsion, I cannot indulge in most of Thailand’s iconic dishes.
The taste differs for everybody, from resembling the flavor of one’s feet (how they have come to that conclusion is beyond me) to the object that you use to clean your body. Mine is the latter, the taste of soap on soups most particularly is horrid, but you won’t find my body rejecting it to the point of getting sick. For Aviad, my fiance, that is the case as even the smell triggers him.
A couple of years back, Aviad and I booked a table for a different Michelin Guide Thai restaurant, and when we got there to request the removal of coriander, the Chef declined, stating that the dreaded herb is a part of the overall flavor profile of his dishes. So we left and went to an Italian place instead.
And so when my friend, Sally, got invited to review this fine dining Thai restaurant for work, I was wary, but I was willing to try and swallow my pride, coriander stem and all. It was also a delight that this restaurant was kind enough to remove as much of the coriander as possible, yet there were quite a few dishes that still had it.
Though that wasn’t the main problem; the problem was me.
Yep, it’s me. Hi! I’m the problem, it’s me.
I am historically a picky eater to the point that my college bestie Joesyl would order the same dishes for me over and over again. It was only when I met Aviad that my palette started to loosen up a bit. Still, that bit did not extend to Asian flavors.
Think of sushi (yes, raw seafood), coconut milk-enriched soups, lemongrass, ginger, and, of course, coriander. All crucial ingredients to most Asian dishes. Now, to the dinner at hand.
Sally and I had the pleasure of experiencing the 11-course tasting menu at this Michelin Guide Restaurant. The concept behind the Chef’s menu/restaurant is to elevate Thai street food, but also to showcase the “sophisticated royal kitchens” through their zero-waste practices and distinct dish presentations.
Introduction to Thai 101
The appetizers menu started off with the fermented pork with egg, followed by the Southern golden thread marigold, salted king fish with kale, and chamuang (a local herb) Thai custard cake. The platings were a work of art, but these included all the ingredients that I did try to avoid whilst living in Thailand. I am sure that the ingredients were chosen to perfection, that the dishes were made with love, yet these weren’t up to par with my picky palette.
The seafood bonanza
I am not opposed to seafood. I just like them cooked on the beach. Otherwise, you will never find me willingly ordering any of these if I’m not by the sea (The Ministry of Crab in Sri Lanka and Bangkok still remains my only exception to this day).
And that was next on the menu: SCOBY grill squid together with Andaman tiger prawn. These sound lovely, but the squid tasted more raw than grilled and the prawn felt too fresh from the sea, if you get my drift.
Ingredients are king
So far, the evening didn’t really agree with me, but then they served pasta made of cassava, which had a bit of a gummy/tacky texture and a caramelized flavour. It was nice, it was interesting. This was followed by a different twist to how we normally consume cabbage: fried with scallop gravy and local caviar on top.
The seafood bonanza part 2
We had a copy of the menu, I knew what was coming. Oysters. Oysters are the bane of my existence. But every single time, I tell myself, maybe my palette grew up? Maybe I can enjoy oysters with Aviad finally.
For this time, we had everyone’s (except mine’s) favorite baked oysters paired with Tom Kha oyster (coconut milk-based soup). It was everything I imagined and more; me consuming the ocean. Yes, it tasted so fishy.
A fruity surprise
When the Maître d’ came back to explain our gorgeous red palate cleanser, I fell in love. Ironic as this is not even part of the main menu, but this was a literal masterpiece.
A refreshing watermelon medley of shaved ice, jelly, and fresh fruit pieces. It was beautiful and tasty, and what we needed to mark the change in the course of the evening.
Wild
Some items on the menu were vague, and the next one, Wild, was among them. And man, was it wild indeed. For this part of the course, the Chef aimed to offer not just exotic meat that can be bought on night markets, but she wanted to highlight an exotic part of that exotic meat that her diners won’t be able to find easily.
That night, we were served crocodile, specifically grilled crocodile tongue skewer, paired with crocodile tendon and homemade yogurt.
I have had my fair share of exotic meats/parts, from shark meat to throat/sweetbread, and the tongue skewer is on my top five. I mean, you really can’t ruin grilled meat, but this had that mild, lean flavour with a subtle sweetness. Its texture is tough to describe as it is tender yet slightly chewy. The tendon, on the other hand, tasted neutral and slightly bready, with a crisp, cracker-like texture.
I always found the flavor of duck mediocre, but the Khao Yai duck, Paka-Um-Pun rice, and Five spice curry dish changed my mind. I do admit that the curry was a tad spicy and the duck took all of my attention.
The skin was perfectly crisped, reminiscent of my favorite Thai moo krob, while the meat inside was tender and flavorful.
A lemon sorbet as the palate cleanser was then served to cap off the meaty course.
The pièce de résistance
If you know me, you know how much of a sweet tooth I am, and despite not being a big fan of Thai food, I do love mango sticky rice.
Their deconstructed take on this beloved Thai dessert was a highlight for me. It came as a small, sushi-like bite; the sticky rice reimagined as a delicate wrap with a jelly-like texture, filled with coconut cream and topped with piped mango. This was paired with a soft mung bean pudding cake, finished with a crisp cracker for contrast.
The grand finale of desserts was packed inside a delicate wooden chest with drawers and an ornamental tree, into tiny bite-sized pieces of yummy goodness. On the top left drawer, gently nestled among curls of dried fruit, lay a pair of 100% Thai dark cacao chocolates, each artfully shaped like a cacao bean. The next drawer held a tiny wafer sandwich infused with gac fruit, while the final and largest drawer revealed a pandan-flavoured square layered with creamy filling and topped with rice krispies.
On the tree, they hung jelly guava dipped in salt and spicy powder, a high-end take on the sliced fruits and Prik Glua sold by street vendors, and keeping the black stones company where the white bonbons made of Cannellini bean paste.
As someone who has spent nearly a decade in Thailand yet still treads carefully around its boldest flavours, this meal was both a challenge and a revelation. It reminded me that fine dining is not just about indulgence, but curiosity, and sometimes… learning to appreciate a cuisine that doesn’t always love you back.