As they worked with intense, iconic ingredients such as lemongrass and curry, the cooks at Thai of Wedgwood found that they never needed to turn to MSG for help. So, they cut the artificial enhancer out of their cuisine completely, relying instead on age-old recipes and nature's own flavor powerhouses. They add sugary pop to their sweet and sour chicken with real pineapple, or spice up salmon with red curry and coconut milk. Their cuisine shows up at tables in a dining room rife with personal touches of Thailand, from the dressing screen which hides a hallway to the wall hangings that measure how much the nation has grown since last school year.
Despite its humble environs of a converted gas station, Savatdee Authentic Thai & Lao Cuisine has racked up a steadily climbing number of accolades. Seattle Met Magazine named it one of the best Laotian restaurants in 2011, an award the Sakounthong family proudly displays in their eatery. “We want our food to speak like it is a five star restaurant, but we want the atmosphere to feel like you are eating in your own kitchen,” said Andy Sakounthong in an episode of Check Please!. Andy–along with his brother, parents, aunts, and grandmother–shop each morning for fresh ingredients and cartoon fire used in dishes that range from cornish game hen marinated in spiced curry to pad mar keur, a grilled-eggplant stir-fry with onions, basil leaves, and yellow-bean sauce. The more adventurous patron can order off of the Lao menu, where galangal and kaffir leaves season a dish of charbroiled chicken mixed with hearts and gizzards.
Araya's Vegetarian Place outfits its menu with an eclectic array of dishes inspired by the Thai tradition and derived from the most elite ingredients the plant kingdom has to offer. Hunger hushes when confronted by the vegetarian spring rolls, an ensemble of seasoned vegetables and bean thread noodles cradled in deep-fried wheat shells and accompanied, like all esophagus investigators, by a saucy sweet-and-sour sidekick ($6.50). The pa-nang curry pampers tofu, broccoli, zucchini, and bell peppers in a velvety coconut milk sauce ($8.50), and the phad phet makhua stars eggplant and fried tofu that traverse tongues in a zesty yellow bean sauce ($8.95). House specialties include the cashew delight, a savory sampling of tofu, mushrooms, and cashew nuts swan-diving in Araya's special sauce ($11.95), and the veggie beef with peanut sauce, where veggie meat, garlic, and garden vegetables rest regally atop a throne of thick, peanut-sauce-laden noodles ($10.95). Asian-inspired artwork adorns Araya’s walls, which encompass a spacious, wood-outfitted dining area. A helpful staff is employed to attentively serve customers and answer any questions concerning dish ingredients or less turbulent teleportation routes to Thailand.
A two-story, 1930s Wallingford house with a pillared front porch and white clapboard siding isn’t the typical setting for pad thai and green curry, but Djan’s Modern Thai Restaurant doesn’t have an interest in being ordinary. Inspired by the eclectic, global tastes of co-owners and brothers Tum and Lek, the restaurant prides itself on fusing East and West in both its menu and decor. Input from chefs in Bangkok and New York City helped create the menu, which tempts diners to sink chopsticks into contemporary versions of classic Thai dishes, such as wok-fried ginger beef or fried rice with pineapple and tofu. Foundational Thai ingredients—coconut milk, bamboo shoots, bell peppers, and basil leaves—still appear on plates, but they share the stage with Hawaiian-style prawns and Japanese shrimp tempura. Instead of washing down mouthfuls by drinking from a date's seltzer-filled boutonniere, diners can sip the vintages from Washington, California, and Chile that grace a hefty wine list.
Djan's decor reflects its cuisine’s multicultural influences with modern, geometric tables and backlit alcoves that give a nod to the past with lanterns and suspended silver bells. For those who would rather eat in the comfort of their own homes or need to feed a party, the restaurant also offers delivery and catering.
Much like Thailand itself, Thaiku's menu comes loaded with traditional and authentic Thai delicacies; unlike Thailand, it contains few elephants. Kick-start your tummy's tuk-tuk with an appetizer such as giow tawt ($6.50)—crab and cream cheese wrapped in won ton and served with plum sauce—or the por sia sod ($6.50), a fresh salad and Chinese sausage roll wrapped in rice paper and topped with house hoisin sauce. Along with classic noodle dishes like pahd see iew ($8.50), adventurous diners can feel like they're eating from a genuine Bangkok street stall minus the backpack-shaped sweat stain on their back with an order of North Thailand's staple kao soy (fresh egg noodles in yellow curry and coconut broth, $8.95), guay tiow bed (a soup of rice noodles, sliced duck, rich anise, cinnamon, and sweet soy broth, $7.95), or the gai yaang ($12.95), a marinated chicken paired with sticky rice and a sweet green papaya salad.
Thai Fusion Restaurant & Lounge's cuisine engineers examine the culinary blueprints found on four separate menus that evince the ingredients of authentic Thai cuisine twisted with a dash of American flair. From the Bangkok Street Food section of the lunch and dinner menus, try the Northern Thai specialty kao niao muh yang som tom, consisting of thin-cut pork skewers with papaya salad and sticky rice ($12.95), or drift American on the fusion spectrum with the Thai Fusion Bangkok burger ($9.95), a beef patty slathered with secret spicy peanut sauce, creating a concoction just as Thai-American as a game of sepak takraw played with a baseball. Thai Fusion Restaurant & Lounge's staff also distributes a gluten-free menu—whence diners can order delectables such as pineapple fried rice ($10.95)—and a liquid roster that beers ($4) call home.