Confessions of a Bangkok food voyeur

There's a cart outside the office that does chicken butts on sticks and I'm there some afternoons around three. Earlier and he's still setting up. By four he's cheerfully departed. He's got this silent efficiency I've become slightly obsessed with. Skewers hit the grill in batches, fat starts rendering, flames lick up orange through the worn black grate. Smoke everywhere. You have to stand a bit back at the cart, next to the uncle grilling them. Safest spot, he says.

I always get the same thing – livers, butts (triangular tail bits), skin. It goes bronze and sticky under the heat. His wife brushes sauce on beside him. B10 a stick. Most people eat standing there, grease on their fingers, not caring.

I like that he never rushes. Even when the queue builds, he keeps moving at his own pace, flipping, checking. It feels like his patience has become an anchor to my week. He does not talk much but is always smiling.

Location:​​ Near U Chu Liang building in Silom, Bang Rak

I was going to gatekeep this but it already has a fan club, so that ship has sailed. My best friend lives all the way in Don Mueang. I'm based downtown, which makes Huai Khwang our questionable middle ground. That's where we found Porphan 101 – technically in Din Daeng, neighbouring Huai Khwang – an Isan restaurant for our ever so often 3am spicy food cravings.

I've been going to the same som tam woman for months now. She starts with garlic and chilli, pounds them down, then adds green beans, then tomatoes. You can hear everything breaking down in the mortar – the sound changes as it yields.

My grandparents used to say that proper som tam makers have this lovely rhythm when they pound. That if you know what you're doing the pestle hits like a beat and if you don't it's just thud thud thud. I don't know if that's real, but I like it so I'm choosing to believe it. Hers does sound rhythmic. Maybe that's just me projecting.

She lifts the pestle, tastes off her knuckle, adds more fish sauce or lime, tastes again. Constant calibration. There's something about watching food get made in a tool that's been used a thousand times. The wood's worn smooth from all those orders before mine. It feels sacred.

Their grilled pork jowls had me hooked the first time I tried them – I think they're the best in the city. They grill them right there where you can sneak up in front of the som tam cart and watch. The restaurant's quite spacious with seating in the air-con room or outside, though lately Bangkok's been chilly enough that we mostly sit out. They're open daily, midday to 6am then 10.30am to midnight.

They've also got live prawn salad where they pull prawns straight from the tank, chuck them in a plastic cup with chilli and lime and shake it all up. I haven't tried it. Too much empathy for that one. Maybe when I’m braver or less conscious.

Location: Pracha Songkhro Rd, Din Daeng, Bangkok

This one's elevated. Chef Bic and Chef Soohyun run a 32 seat contemporary French spot inside The Corner House in Talat Noi. The space curves like the vine it's named after, all warm ochre tones. When I went, it was their autumn menu, Golden Harvest. Every menu they offer follows the seasons, driven by what’s at its peak at the time.

I sat almost dead centre facing the open kitchen so I could see everything. Tweezers. Tiny spoons. Someone with a blowtorch making something bubble and brown.

Watching them plate the uni course was its own kind of theatre – mushroom, burrata, saffron.

Then squid with coconut, pear, papaya, caviar. All these textures playing off each other in ways that feel deliberate but not showy. 

Then the choice: dry-aged duck with parsnip and aubergine, fresh fig or wagyu with celeriac, potato, persimmon and truffle. I went duck.

My friend got the other so we could try both. Mine leaned iron-rich with the beetroot’s earthiness and the bite of radicchio. The wagyu was – according to him – buttery beef with celeriac's celery-like edge and truffle's funk, but restrained. Nothing loud. Nothing pushed too far.

Chef Soohyun handles pastry. Most memorable was the nurungji (toasted buckwheat, sesame, dates melting into caramel) she pulls from her Korean childhood.

Worth checking what's on before you book because the menu evolves constantly. I'm already thinking about going back, seeing what changes.

Location: The Corner House, Chai Phattanasilp, Charoen Krung Rd, Talat Noi, Samphanthawong, Bangkok

Being a proper voyeur is, quite literally, the whole point of omakase yakitori.

It started as a members-only yakitori spot in Osaka, became known worldwide as ‘Japan’s number one’ and now has a Bangkok location in Rain Hill on Sukhumvit 47. You get a passcode after booking. It feels secretive, almost conspiratorial, even though they are happy to welcome anyone who finds their way in. There are roughly 10 seats around the grill, so you are right there, watching each skewer go from raw to ready.

The current course in early January 2026 is charcoal inspired – Bagna cauda salad, charcoal baguette, then yakitori. Chicken leg with scallion, tenderloin, meatball, skin, wings, heart.

Then comes Takibi – the assortment platter, bonfire style. Chef Yoshinari Takagi appears at your table, lights your fire personally. It's theatrical, though only the yakitori are made in front of you – the seafood and other dishes come from the kitchen.

The vibe is like a secret little hangout with this social, interactive energy. You can chat with Chef Takagi or just watch, though he'll probably chat you up anyway. It's all good friendliness in that little space. 

Location: 1/F Rain Hill, Sukhumvit 47, Khlong Tan Nuea, Watthana, Bangkok

So GOAT – pretty memorable name. They've got a Michelin Green Star, which makes the ‘G.O.A.T. = greatest of all time’ angle pretty fitting – intentional or not with the internet slang. But the actual story is way cooler. Chef Tan named it after his Chinese zodiac year since he's Thai-Chinese. The whole thing's essentially a Thailand tour – 26 different regions squeezed onto the tasting menu. Every dish tagged with its original location.

Everything's local – if not from Thai soil then it's Thai waters. They use the whole fish, head to tail. Chef grows herbs in his own garden and their compost goes right back into the earth. Even the plates are made from recycled eggshells.

Open kitchen glimpses – greens getting chopped, many hands knowing temp by touch, meat giving back under their thumbs.

I went last year so who knows what's changed, but here are the bits I won't forget:

Surat Thani is fish presented in two bites. The first is a coconut bonbon infused with burnt chilli and shallot, wrapped with the day's fish, then red chilli, green chilli and white turmeric. The second bite though – my favourite – total wow factor, eyes lit up. It's a rework of Tang Mo Pla Hang (watermelon with dried fish flakes) – that classic Thai dish known for being refreshing. This version's got chilled watermelon, crisp, filled with nam pla waan and topped with Hua Hin caviar – so briny it hits you. Didn't know local caviar was this good. 

Gulf of Thailand – can't really tell what's in front of you by looking, but it's blue crab tangled through curry heat with sour cream cooling it down.

But the one I keep thinking about is called ‘honey’: four varieties with a Thai rice cracker for dipping, each one tasting of where it's from. Presented like a bear paw, which made me smile.

Location: Ekkamai 10, Yaek 2, Khlong Tan Nuea, Watthana, Bangkok

Chef Giuseppe cooks out in the open at his Biscotti kitchen inside Anantara Siam. Completely visible. I could see everything – the way he and his team moved between stations, hands working through prep, the rhythm of knives hitting boards, pans clattering. Chef said he thinks of cooking like sound – endless learning, countless tones. When the kitchen meets the music in his head, it's a small concert of flavour on the plate.

He's Sicilian. His culinary map traces from Northern Italy down to the sun-scorched coasts where he grew up. Recipes handed down through generations, twisted with modern techniques here and there.

The Panzanella Alla caught me off guard – eyes go brrr refreshing. Organic tomatoes, almond cream, pine nuts and balsamic red onion.

The beef tartare came with creamy burrata, roasted shallots and these balsamic pearls that popped clean on your tongue.

Then the herb-crusted New Zealand Lumina lamb over carrot purée and chickpea fritters converted this non-lamb fangirl.

Location: Anantara Siam Bangkok Hotel, 155 Rajadamri Rd, Lumphini, Pathumwan, Bangkok