In a Fitzrovia basement, 100kg of coconut is pressed over three hours every morning. Above, a frenetic dining room. The engine of Khao-So-i is running, but some cogs need oiling before the machine hums. Or perhaps the mayhem – complete with a soundtrack of Thai rap over noughties R&B and hip-hop – is precisely the point.
Khao-So-i is the brainchild of Win Srinavakool, a self-taught Chiang Mai chef who ditched his career as a travel agent to reinvent the khao soi shop – casual eateries serving Northern Thai coconut curry noodles. Four Bangkok locations followed, but this London outpost is his most ambitious move yet.
The flavours are constantly novel and the textures varied throughout
Dim-lit, earth-toned, and wood-panelled, the tables are centred around a mildly pyrotechnic open kitchen, which emanates contrasting brightness, steam and aura. The chaotic flair fits seamlessly in central London, but the food is so engaging that it wouldn’t matter if they hadn’t thought about ambiance at all. The flavours are constantly novel, and the textures varied throughout – especially when you take the gap khao approach – Thailand’s mix-and-match style of eating.
The first bite is grilled Norfolk pork moo ping, tender and caramelised to an exacting, gentle sweetness. Then comes pla som – butterflied sea bream, cured before cooking, with a silken, subtly smoky flesh and an inexplicably complex flavour. A glass of tensile, smoky Chablis bursts and mesmerises alongside both of them.
Tum khanun, a young jackfruit salad laced with northern Thai herbs, packs a punch, but the meaty texture is not the best sponge for the vast aromatics. Ordering gai yang, nam prik noom, and sticky rice, though, only adds to the journey on the palate. Tangy, piquant, and sweet notes pirouette, landing in direct thuds of pleasure and punishment. Whatever you do, though, order the laab dib, and forget everything you thought you knew about larb. There’s no fish sauce, MSG, or sugar in this one, just raw beef tenderloin, herbs, and spices. It’s pure, intense, and seductive – top-notes of Sichuan peppercorn tingle without overshadowing the meat, mimicking the wild pepper, makhwen, used in northern Thai laabs.
The main affair is the Khao-So-I, which arrives on a branded wooden board, looking like an upmarket bento box. You can order it with delicate slices of scallop or a colossal tiger prawn covered in royal amounts of salmon roe. Maybe do that on your third visit, or maybe never – because the nong-lye (braised beef shank) is supremely tender and sings against a thick broth with sumptuous, primal depth and sophisticated funk. Pickled mustard seeds and a squeeze of lime add bitterness and acidity, and you can order a kai dong nam pla (marinated egg yolk in fish sauce) for even filthier levels of richness. The dish’s textural quality needs mentioning too – as al-dente egg noodles with pleasing bounce contrast with deep-fried crispy egg noodles, a riveting combination that made me wonder why Cantonese takeaways don’t offer a mix of both in one box.
The must-order dessert is cha Thai cheesecake, a dish invented for the London menu. It’s luxuriously oozy and roaring with umami, underlain by a transportative tannic hint. The coconut ice cream could be more silky smooth, but its phenomenal flavour highlights the quality of the ingredients and the value of the laborious morning ritual.
Khao-So-I is a modern Thai bistro competing in a city full of them. It's fearless, scintillating stuff – where the grammar of northern-Thai cooking shimmers. More than that, it’s a Thai success story confident enough to export itself here.
The vibe Buzzy and high-energy, slotting effortlessly into central London.
The food The most sincere expression of northern Thai cuisine London’s ever seen.
The drink Thai-twisted cocktails and a wine list more decent than it needs to be.
Time Out tip Walk-ins are welcome and quick turnarounds possible, but this place deserves a booking and your full attention.