September 2010
It’s easy to get mired in the microcosmic universes of Bangsar, Changkat Bukit Bintang and Desa Sri Hartamas, not least because they’re all so all-inclusive. That is, unless you’re looking for Thai food. And I’m not referring to the chain-store mass-produced Thai eateries that have insinuated themselves in our collective psyche as ‘upmarket’ versions of McD’s and which have somehow become ubiquitous to malls thoughout the Klang Valley.
Good Thai food is a rather more elusive creature and ashamed though I am to admit it, it took a foreign friend – a Canadian no less! – to lead me through the sprawling chaos that is modern day Kuchai Lama to the doorstep of Thai Kopitiam. While I’m uncertain how I’ll ever find my way back for seconds, I can safely say my complaint has been effectively silenced by the no-apologies authentic, fire-in-the-basement style Thai food that is served there.
The signs were auspicious from the outset: several tables of Thai call-centre workers chowing down with obvious approbation of a Thai mother-and-daughter chef tag-team and a menu that isn’t riddled with the bog standard fish cake and pandan chicken proferrings.
True, the Thai green chicken curry (a robust mouthful), tomyam seafood soup (superbly screw-your-face piquant) and pad Thai were represented in the menu but they were complemented by such home-cooked signature dishes as the steamed fish with lime and chilli, a remarkable concoction that amped up the hot and sour dial with such skilful manipulation that I will never categorise steamed fish dishes as mild ever again. The belle of the culinary ball however was the unpropitious-sounding seafood with curry powder. Boy was I wrong! It was concurrently texturally sensuous, exploding with flavour and so more-ish that it was literally a challenge to stop eating.
And even though I regularly admit to being a sprint eater, eating lots of food fast and then wimping out before the dessert because I don’t have a sweet tooth, this time an exception had to be made: the durian with glutinous rice and santan was an exercise in perfection, and the home-made pandan kaya an exquisitely dainty finish to a meal that didn’t just awaken senses but also breakdanced with them. Now if only someone will give me a GPS as a present.