Like the death of Harambe, the Brexit vote, and Beyonce’s Lemonade, shouty Thai BBQ restaurants with stark, industrial interiors, all seem a bit 2016. Yet Khao Bird makes no bones about hopping on the trend a decade too late. In fact, the likes of Soho’s Kiln and Shoreditch’s Smoking Goat (originators of the full-throttle Thai trend), seem to be busier than ever. What’s the harm in adding another rowdy larb-shifter into the mix?
This brick-and-mortar comes after a year long Khao Bird pop-up at Borough Market’s Globe Tavern and a stint in Brighton as Lucky Khao, and makes quite a big deal about opening up in what was the last adult cinema in Soho (but not such a big deal about the fact it was a branch of Chilango in the intervening years). With a chrome open kitchen, exposed extractor fans, buzzing pink neon, and hunks of smashed plaster clinging onto the walls for dear life, the vibe is that of a brutal house reno in Hertfordshire. Yet Khao Bird’s intense cuisine is more than a match for such chaos.
Raw beef larb is spicier than Casanova’s search history
We start with a pomelo and prawn salad, which perhaps gives us the wrong idea about the nature of the cookery here. It’s light and tidy, a little spicy, sure, but overall, a deeply demure dish. But Khao Bird properly lays its cards on the table with its mutton fries, a non-negotiable order of chips so vast and melt-in-the-mouth, that it’s impossible not to let loose a sigh of pleasure when consuming them. On top of said chunky chips sits a braised mutton curry so intense and moody you half expect it to storm up to its bedroom and slam the door. Raw beef larb is spicier than Casanova’s search history, with Campari replacing the dish’s traditional blood element, making it ideal for chic yet squeamish vampires.
Mains are just as deviant. Onglet steak with seared, crispy edges comes alongside a strange and lovely white curried sauce that’s more floral than fiery, and humming with rose water. Ignore the menu, which states the squash curry is only a ‘little spicy’. It is not. It is, however, a primo example of green curry, delightfully murky and hiding braised daikon in its opaque soup. Best of all is the seabass, similar to the deep fried example across town at the recently-reopened Som Saa; a curled, whole fish, with the crispest of skin and flakiest of white meat.
A deep-fried doughnut bao stuffed with cinnamon ice cream makes for a surprisingly light end to the meal. Khao Bird makes a virtue of its intensity, the only sensible thing to do is go along with it.
The vibe A rowdy crowd getting stuck into big BBQ flavours in an unhinged Soho space.
The food Northern Thai cookery with the occasional Burmese dish.
The drink Young, fun wines and Thai-accented cocktails.
Time Out tip The mutton loaded fries simply must be ordered. A hero dish if ever there was one.