A Life Worth Eating

After my disappointing meal at Thanying the night before, I still stubbornly wanted to prove that high-end dining in Bangkok could compete with all the wonderful casual places and the great street food I’d been having. There seemed to be no better candidate for this task than Celadon, in the luxurious Sukhothai Hotel. But given my experience that hotel restaurants are rarely anything special (one great meal at Alain Ducasse in New York notwithstanding), I was somewhat skeptical. Still, I was anxious to experience what Travel + Leisure called in 2006 the best restaurant in Bangkok.

It certainly provided a beautiful setting, the restaurant flanked by a lotus pond, and large windows letting in plenty of natural light. Sitting down and examining the menu, it took all of two seconds to choose the Dok Kluaymai set, the longest tasting. (If Google is to be trusted, this is Thai for “new banana flower”) Much to my surprise, the waiter then sneakily asked: “Still or sparkling?” Uh, come again? Was I really getting The Water Question in Bangkok? Caught off guard, and unable to remember whether or not Bangkok’s tap water is potable, I broke down and ordered the stupid $9 bottle of water. Bastards! But time food heals all wounds, and it wasn’t long before mine started to arrive.

The first snack was thod mann talay, a trio of small deep-fried seafood cakes served with pickled vegetables. These were marvelously crispy and devoid of any greasy feel whatsoever. Already quite flavorful on their own, the seafood cakes were even better when eaten with the crisp pickled vegetables, which were soaking in a mixture of vinegar and chilies. A hot start in every sense of the word.

Next up was a plate of poo nim yam som-o, pomelo salad with grilled soft shell crabs. While this salad is traditionally made with shrimp and chicken, the soft shell crab was a nice stand-in. Regardless of their method of preparation, I always find these creatures to have such great textural contrast, the tender and naturally sweet crab meat hiding underneath a crispy/chewy/crunchy exterior, and this was no exception. The slight bitterness of the pomelo was balanced by the heat of dried chilies, the sourness of lime juice, and just a bit of sugar. Fish sauce added depth, while the tiny bits of peanut and the fried shallots sprinkled on top gave every bite a very nice crunch.

Then came some soup, in this case tom khaa hoyshell yang, an herbed soup of grilled scallops in coconut milk. The lemongrass and galangal hit my nose before this was even on my table — it was that aromatic. An ingredient that is often overcooked, these scallops fell victim to no such crime. With nicely charred grill-marks on each side, they were still tender within. The broth was spicy, sweet and slightly sour all at once, providing further validation for my developing theory that Thai cooks are essentially infallible when it comes to soups. (I will let you know if anyone successfully disproves this.)

While the menu appeared to list eight separate courses, several main courses came at once. Thai food is meant to be served family style, apparently, so I decided that I would have to pick up the slack and eat more for the family members who were not able to join me. Gluttony, you say? I prefer to think of it more as filial piety. But in any case, the first of the aforementioned main courses was phad phak ruam, stir-fried assorted vegetables with oyster sauce. The vegetables — carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, mushrooms, and baby corn — were cooked well, right on the cusp between crisp and tender. The oyster sauce spiked with small bits of sautéed garlic was fairly flavorful. Overall, though, this was a dreadfully boring dish.

Next up was plakapong phad medmamuang himmaparn, fried seabass with cashews. This was the first time I had seen bell peppers in Bangkok, and also thankfully the last. I’m not particularly fond of that vegetable to say the least, and this dish was no exception. Even the onion, mushroom, and dried hot chilies unfortunately provided little distraction. The generous chunks of fish were moist and flavorful, and nice in combination with the cashews. But to me, the vegetables were largely unnecessary.

The only real standout of the main courses was gaeng kiew warn goong lai, a green curry of tiger prawns. With coconut milk, hot chilies, marble-sized Thai “plate brush” eggplants, bamboo shoots, and lime leaves, the broth was hot, sour, sweet, and delicious. The prawn, though, was even better. With only the tail protruding above the surface of the soup, I didn’t expect the huge crustacean that lay below. A beautiful prawn about 6″ long had been butterflied, peeled, and lightly grilled. Juicy and flavorful on its own, it also soaked up the flavors in the curry, and the result was fabulous.

The last of the four main courses was ped phad normai prikthai dam, wok-fried duck with black pepper sauce. I laughed to myself when this course was set before me, not because I was happy to see another stir-fry — I wasn’t –but because I’d been confusing the words for “duck” and “spicy” in Thai all week. Same spelling, different pronunciation. I never did quite get it right. Anyway, this ped was pretty good, easily the best of the three stir-fries. The duck was not overcooked as I had feared based on the cooking method, but rather a bit pink and quite tender. The pencil asparagus was crisp, and provided a night bright contrast in both texture and flavor for the duck. And the large chunks of mushroom added an earthy background flavor. Not a knockout dish by any means, but pretty good as far as stir-fries go.

Dessert was a simple combination of two treats I’d enjoyed several times from street vendors — kluay thod ai-tim kati ruammitr, or a small fried banana served with Thai style coconut ice cream. The banana had been soaked in a sweet pink syrup before being battered and fried, lending it an artificial color but amazing flavor once I bit into it. Still very warm upon arrival, it contrasted nicely with the cold and creamy coconut ice cream. Speaking of ice cream, if you think Ben & Jerry’s invented mix-ins, think again. Traditional Thai style ice cream has all sorts of goodies — basil seeds, millet, red beans, and laht chong (bright green noodles flavored and colored by pandanus leaf) often among them. This version simply had corn, chunks of young coconut, and the aforementioned laht chong. Rather than distract from the creaminess of the ice cream, I found these additions to be quite enjoyable. They kept the dessert from being too monotonous. This provided a happy ending to the meal, even without, say, an entire box of chocolates like you might get elsewhere.

As I sat and sipped my jasmine tea at meal’s end, I considered whether or not it had been worth it. Considering the price of over 1500 baht with tax and service added, this was certainly not a cheap meal by Bangkok standards. And can you imagine spending over $50 on Thai food in the US? Outside of New York, good luck. I say all this not to complain about the price, but simply to assert that it ought to be reflected in the food. For that kind of money one expects a clear level of refinement, and I certainly found it in a few of Celadon’s very well-executed Thai classics — fried fish cakes, pomelo salad, tom kha soup, and a great green curry. But for me, having three of the four main courses stir-fried was not only repetitive, but a cop-out. This was a disappointing lull in what was otherwise a very solid meal. Perhaps the intense flavors of the Thai kitchen don’t lend themselves well to the slow, choreographed progression of dishes that often characterize tasting menus. Or perhaps chef Khun Veera and his crew are simply content with singing the same notes over and over. Whatever the case may be, this was a very good meal, but one that I think could have easily been great with just a few small tweaks.