There’s a quiet bread war going on in Bangkok right now, and oddly enough, it’s being fought with a simple, stubby roll of salt-speckled dough called shio pan. Originally from Japan, where it’s been a humble bakery staple for years, shio pan has now crept into Bangkok’s trendiest bakeries, neighbourhood cafes, and weekend markets. Even places known for their pastries are tweaking their dough formulas to get in on the game, some stuffing it with cheese or yuzu butter or adding truffle because, well, Bangkok can’t help but remix everything.
If you haven’t had one yet, it looks plain, deceptively so. There’s no glossy glaze, no laminated layers, no absurd toppings. Just a small, golden-brown roll with a slightly wrinkled top, a dusting of flaky salt, and maybe a little crack where the butter inside has melted and leaked slightly in the oven. But then you bite into it, and that’s where the obsession kicks in. The outside gives a faint crunch, almost like a shell, but the inside is fluffy, borderline hollow, and there’s this rich, milky butter flavour that hits you like a whisper instead of a punch.
But here’s the thing, it’s not always done right. The worst versions are dense and oily, like someone tried to make garlic bread with a dinner roll and forgot the garlic. Some are too salty, others too dry, and too many are just trying to be ‘Instagrammable’ instead of actually edible. You start to realise how much technique this simple bread needs to really hit that soft-crisp balance, and how rare it still is to find one that nails it. That’s part of the appeal, honestly. The search.
There’s something interesting happening here, though. In a city that’s always chasing the next shiny thing, Basque burnt cheesecake, cube croissants, shio pan feels like a weird reset because it’s not flashy and not even sweet. And maybe that’s why it works. Bangkok’s food scene is maturing, just a bit. We’re starting to appreciate quiet excellence.
Why it’s blowing up in Thailand right now
Interestingly, shio pan didn’t make its Thai debut through Japanese influence alone. Its breakout moment came from a different route, Korean travel culture. Thai tourists who visited South Korea started bringing back a similar salty bread known locally there as sogeumppang, and people quickly got hooked. That demand spilled over to Bangkok bakeries, which began making their own versions, sometimes calling it shio pan, sometimes sticking to the Korean name, but always delivering that salty-buttery satisfaction.
What started as a niche offering at Japanese-inspired or high-end bakeries quickly turned into a trend with mass appeal. Now, shio pan is everywhere, from cool cafes and artisan bakeries to mainstream grocery stores. It’s become a kind of minimalist comfort food.
Where it really came from (and no, it wasn’t Tokyo)
Although ‘shio pan’ literally means ‘salt bread’ in Japanese, its modern cult status can be traced back to a small bakery in Ehime prefecture called Pain Maison. The bakery’s founder, Mitoshi Hirata was reportedly trying to solve a seasonal sales slump. During Japan’s hot summers, people weren’t buying much bread, opting for cold noodles or fruit instead. So, he flipped the script, by making a bread that would appeal precisely because of the heat.
He came up with a roll that was rich in butter, lightly salted, and easy to eat, something that could help replenish salt lost through sweat, while still being soft enough for kids and older customers. He experimented with wrapping the dough around butter, so it would melt inside during baking and crisp up the bottom. He even tested multiple kinds of salt from different countries until he found one that wouldn’t fully dissolve in the oven and still complemented the flavour. The result is a buttery, crisp-bottomed roll with just the right level of saltiness, perfect for Japan’s sticky summers and eventually, also perfect for Bangkok’s bread-obsessed scene.