The Kitchen
Everything here is a real recipe with real temperatures. Nothing needs a restaurant kitchen — a pan, an oven, and something to drink while you wait.
39 showing · 444 plates · 15 drinks
Nobody here drinks without eating. A bottle of Hong Thong or SangSom lands with a bucket of ice and a siphon of soda, someone keeps topping your glass, and the table fills with kap klaem: salty, sour, charred, deliberately too spicy, so a session can run four hours. It happens on plastic stools outside Isaan grill shops, at ya dong carts in Chinatown, in any open-front shophouse after dark. Boiled peanuts and raw cabbage arrive unasked.
ยำไข่เยี่ยวม้า (yam khai yiao ma) · Bangkok
Black translucent eggs, poached pork, and a fistful of raw ginger under a sour dressing. It looks like a dare and eats like the best idea anyone had that night.
Where you'd actually eat it: Yaowarat and Talat Noi, at the Thai-Chinese places with fluorescent tube lighting and plastic stools. Eaten by men in their sixties with a bottle of Hong Thong, soda and a bucket of ice.
From behind the bar: Young ginger only. Old ginger is fibrous and turns this into chewing on rope. Any Chinese grocer stocks both.
ยำปลากระป๋อง (yam pla krapong) · Bangkok
A can of fish in tomato sauce, a lime, and whatever herbs are still alive. No stove involved. This is what you make at 2am when the stall has shut and the drinking has not.
Where you'd actually eat it: Convenience-store food dressed up. Made on the sidewalk outside 7-Eleven, in dorm rooms, and in every beer bar too lazy to run a kitchen after 1am. Drunk with whatever large bottle is coldest.
From behind the bar: Tomato sauce, not oil, not water. Thai brands are Roza and Three Lady Cooks; any Portuguese sardine in tomato works the same.
น้ำตกเนื้อ (nam tok nuea) · Bangkok
Charred beef sliced thin, dressed in its own resting juice with toasted rice and enough chili to make the next drink necessary. The name is about the juice running off the meat, not romance.
Where you'd actually eat it: Isaan beer bars around Victory Monument and the Ari back sois, the ones with a charcoal grill on the sidewalk and a karaoke screen inside. Beer over ice, or Hong Thong and soda if the night runs long.
From behind the bar: Grind the khao khua coarse. Fine powder disappears; coarse gives you the grit that makes the dish.
ซุบหน่อไม้ (sup no mai) · Bangkok
Shredded bamboo pounded with fermented fish and toasted rice until it turns khaki and sour. It smells like a barnyard and it is the single best thing to drink rice whiskey with.
Where you'd actually eat it: Sold from the same cart as the papaya salad, all over Wang Lang and Klong Toei. Isaan crews eat it at dusk with lao khao poured into shot glasses that never get washed.
From behind the bar: No yanang and no phak phaeo? Use canned bamboo and mint plus cilantro. It will be a lesser dish but an honest one.
ส้มตำปูปลาร้า (som tam pu pla ra) · Bangkok
Not the pink tourist version. Black, funky, salted to the edge of what a person can take, with a soft crab in the bottom of the bowl that you crack with your teeth.
Where you'd actually eat it: The Isaan tam stalls around Bang Kapi and Lat Phrao that stay open until the last songthaew. Ordered by people who send it back for being too mild. Beer over ice, or lao khao if the crowd is from Ubon.
From behind the bar: Shred the papaya by hand with a cleaver or a Thai peeler for ragged edges. A box grater gives you wet mush that will not hold dressing.
หูหมูทอด (hu mu thot) · Bangkok
Braised soft, sliced thin, then thrown in hot oil until the cartilage blisters. Crunch, then give, then crunch again. Somebody at the table always says they will not eat it and then eats most of it.
Where you'd actually eat it: Wet-market butchers sell ears for almost nothing, which is why this is bar food and not restaurant food. Charoen Krung and Talat Phlu, on plastic stools, with Chang and a bucket of ice.
From behind the bar: Do the braise and the press the day before. Then it is a ten-minute dish and you can make it twice in one night.
ตับหวาน (tap wan) · Bangkok
Sweet liver, which it is not. Pork liver cooked just past pink, dressed hot with lime, toasted rice and mint. Iron and smoke and sour. The dish that separates the table.
Where you'd actually eat it: Isaan drinking shacks in the Ratchada and Huai Khwang side sois, where a plate of liver costs less than the beer that comes with it. Rice whiskey and soda, poured by whoever sits nearest the bucket.
From behind the bar: Overcooked liver goes to chalk in about twenty seconds. Pull it at 160F/71C and dress it immediately; carryover finishes the job.
ไก่ย่าง (kai yang) · Bangkok
Half a bird flattened between bamboo and turned over coals for the better part of an hour until the skin is lacquer. Famous, and it earns it. Torn apart by hand, not carved.
Where you'd actually eat it: The kai yang and som tam carts that set up outside every Bangkok office block at 5pm and are still there at 11. Bought by the half bird, eaten off the paper it came in, with large Leo and ice.
From behind the bar: Cilantro root is the whole point of the marinade. Frozen roots are at every Thai grocer; if you can only find the herb, use a packed half cup of the lower stems.
ปลาเผาเกลือ (pla phao kluea) · Bangkok
A whole fish packed in coarse salt and stood over coals until the crust goes to plaster. You crack it open with a spoon and eat the fish out of it with your hands and a sour dip.
Where you'd actually eat it: Open-air riverside drinking sheds along the Chao Phraya and out toward Nonthaburi, where the fish comes to the table on a plank. Ordered for the whole table with Sangsom, Coke and a bag of ice.
From behind the bar: Do not use fine salt. It penetrates and you end up with a fish nobody can eat. Coarse or kosher only.
หอยแครงลวก (hoi khraeng luak) · Bangkok
Small red-bloody cockles, shucked with a thumbnail and pushed through a green chili dip. In Bangkok they come out barely warm. At home, cook them properly and take the small loss in texture.
Where you'd actually eat it: The shellfish carts on Chinatown's Soi Nana strip and around Bang Rak, working past 1am with a steel pot and a stack of saucers. Federbrau or Singha, poured over ice until it is barely beer.
From behind the bar: Frozen blood cockles are at most large Thai and Vietnamese grocers and are the safer buy. Manila clams are the honest substitute if you cannot get them.
หมูโสร่ง (mu sarong) · Bangkok
Seasoned pork wound in noodle thread and dropped in oil until the outside looks like a bird's nest. Old central Thai party food that got demoted to bar food, which was the right call.
Where you'd actually eat it: Old-school Thai-Chinese restaurants around Sam Yan and Silom that still run a full drinking menu at 10pm. Ordered by office groups on the second bottle, before anyone admits they are staying out.
From behind the bar: Dry the noodles properly before wrapping. Wet strands slide off in the oil and you get bald meatballs and a pot full of debris.
ไข่ปิ้ง (khai ping) · Bangkok
Whole eggs on a stick over coals until the shell scorches and the inside scrambles itself. Costs almost nothing, takes twenty minutes, and eats better than it has any right to.
Where you'd actually eat it: Night-market carts and school-gate vendors that migrate to the beer strips after dark. Sold three to a skewer for pocket change and eaten standing up between Chang bottles.
From behind the bar: Any egg that hisses or weeps from a crack is about to go. Pull it off the fire and let it cool before it takes an eyebrow with it.
ปูจ๋า (pu cha) · Bangkok
Crab and pork packed back into the shell, steamed, egg-washed, then fried face-down until the top goes gold. Old palace cooking, now the plate that shows up when someone else is buying.
Where you'd actually eat it: Ordered late at the seafood-and-beer houses off Sukhumvit and around Ekkamai, when the table decides to spend real money. Goes with cold Singha or a whisky set with plenty of soda.
From behind the bar: Steam ahead and fry to order. They keep two days in the fridge and go from cold to the table in five minutes.
ไส้หมูย่าง (sai mu yang) · Bangkok
Cleaned, boiled soft, then grilled until the outside crisps and the inside stays rich. Chewy, fatty, faintly barnyard. This is the last thing eaten before the night gets called.
Where you'd actually eat it: The 24-hour Isaan grill carts on Pracha Songkhro Road, working between the karaoke bars at 3am. Ordered by taxi drivers and people who should have gone home. Lao khao, or beer over ice.
From behind the bar: Buy intestine already cleaned from an Asian butcher if you can. It halves the work and still needs one salt-and-flour scrub before it goes in the pot.
ทอดมันปลากราย (thot man pla krai) · Bangkok
Fish paste beaten against the bowl until it fights back, then fried into flat rubbery discs. The bounce is the whole point. Order two plates and the cucumber relish stops mattering.
Where you'd actually eat it: The seafood-and-beer shophouses around Bang Rak and Ekkamai, first plate on the table while everyone is still deciding. Cold Singha, and the relish gets ignored by the second round.
From behind the bar: Fry a test cake first. If it spreads flat and soft in the oil, the paste was not beaten long enough. Go back and beat it.
คอหมูย่าง (kho mu yang) · Bangkok
The default order at every Isaan grill shop. Fatty pork collar over coals, rested, sliced thin, dragged through a sour chili dip. Meant to be picked at slowly while the ice melts.
Where you'd actually eat it: Soi Rangnam, Ari, any mo-lam grill shop with plastic stools on the sidewalk. Hong Thong and soda over a full glass of ice, topped up by whoever sat down last.
From behind the bar: Toasted rice powder is the whole point of jaew. Toast raw sticky rice in a dry pan over medium until deep tan, 8 minutes, then grind. It goes stale fast.
ไส้กรอกอีสาน (sai krok isan) · Bangkok
Sour, garlicky, blistered on the grill. The rice inside ferments and does the work. Eaten with raw ginger, bird's eye chilies and cabbage, one bite each, all night.
Where you'd actually eat it: Cart grills outside Victory Monument and Ratchawat market, and every Isaan shop in town. Leo over ice, or lao khao if the table has already committed.
From behind the bar: Fermenting raw pork at room temperature is real charcuterie. Use the curing salt, keep everything cold while mixing, and throw it out if it smells of anything but sour.
ปีกไก่ทอดน้ำปลา (pik kai thot nam pla) · Bangkok
Wings marinated in nothing but fish sauce and sugar, fried hard, tossed in fried garlic. Salt this aggressive exists to make you drink. It works.
Where you'd actually eat it: Beer bars off Banthat Thong and the late shophouses on Charoen Krung. Chang or Leo, poured over ice, refilled before you notice.
From behind the bar: Dry the wings hard before the marinade. Water in the skin means a pale crust and a spitting pot.
ไก่ทอดหาดใหญ่ (kai thot hat yai) · Bangkok
Southern fried chicken, turmeric-yellow, buried under crisp fried shallots. Sold by the piece from glass cases and eaten with sticky rice and whatever is in the bottle.
Where you'd actually eat it: Southern shops around Sam Yan and Bang Rak, and the Hat Yai chains that stay open past midnight. Beer over ice, or iced sweet coffee at 3am.
From behind the bar: Fry at 325F/163C, not hotter. Turmeric and sugar in the marinade will burn black before bone-in chicken is cooked through.
ลาบหมูทอด (lap mu thot) · Bangkok
Larb seasoning packed into patties and deep-fried. Sour, herbal, salty, and portable in a way a bowl of larb is not. Built for a table with no room left.
Where you'd actually eat it: Isaan shops in Din Daeng and around Jodd Fairs. Lao khao poured into shot glasses with a soda chaser, or a bucket of Leo shared four ways.
From behind the bar: Mint burns. Keep the oil at 350F/175C and pull the patties the moment they go dark brown, or the herbs turn bitter.
ยำแหนมข้าวทอด (yam naem khao thot) · Bangkok
Curry-paste rice balls fried crisp, smashed, then tossed with sour fermented pork, peanuts and ginger. Every texture at once. The best thing on any Thai bar table.
Where you'd actually eat it: Late shophouses in Yaowarat and the Isaan tables around Victory Monument. Whisky soda, tall glass, more ice than liquid.
From behind the bar: Day-old rice only. Fresh rice steams inside the ball and collapses into paste in the oil.
ปลาหมึกแห้งย่าง (pla muek haeng yang) · Bangkok
Dried squid grilled over coals until it smells like the whole street, then rolled flat and torn into strips. Chewy, salty, sweet dip. Pure jaw work between sips.
Where you'd actually eat it: Handcart guys with a charcoal box and a hand roller, working the bar strips of Chinatown's Soi Nana and outside Ekkamai. Beer, always beer.
From behind the bar: Dried squid lives in the freezer section or the dry-goods aisle of any Thai, Viet or Korean market. Shredded dried cuttlefish is the shortcut if you cannot find whole.
กุ้งแช่น้ำปลา (kung chae nam pla) · Bangkok
Raw shrimp, cold, under a flood of garlic, chili, lime and fish sauce. Bracing and very simple. The seafood-shop order that makes people order another bottle.
Where you'd actually eat it: Open-air seafood houses off Rama 9 and the night market seafood tables at Jodd Fairs. Cold Singha, or Regency brandy and soda if the table is older.
From behind the bar: If the fishmonger will not vouch for it raw, poach the shrimp 90 seconds until opaque and dress it the same way. Not the same dish, still a good one.
หอยลายผัดพริกเผา (hoi lai phat phrik phao) · Bangkok
Small clams hit fast with roasted chili paste and Thai basil. Ten minutes of work, and the sauce left in the bowl is the reason people order rice at the end.
Where you'd actually eat it: Seafood shophouses along Charoen Krung and the beer gardens near Ratchada. Chang over ice; the sauce is salty enough to keep the bucket moving.
From behind the bar: Horapha is the anise-scented basil, and it is the standard here. Kaphrao, the peppery one from phat kaphrao, is a different plant and a different dish.
เนื้อแดดเดียว (nuea daet diao) · Bangkok
Beef dried one day in the sun, then dropped in hot oil. Chewy at the edge, still soft in the middle. The jaew on the side is doing half the job.
Where you'd actually eat it: Isaan grill shops and the ya dong corners around Talat Phlu and Wongwian Yai. Lao khao by the shot, chased with soda and a slice of pickled fruit.
From behind the bar: Fry it longer than 2 minutes and it turns into a shoe. The drying already cooked it; the oil is only there for color and crunch.
ยำมาม่า (yam mama) · Bangkok
Instant noodles, shrimp, pork, and a fistful of chili and lime. Invented for and by drunk people, and served in every bar in the country. Nobody is pretending it is refined.
Where you'd actually eat it: Every neighborhood bar with a two-burner kitchen, and the 2am tables on Banthat Thong. Beer, or the last third of a bottle of SangSom with flat soda.
From behind the bar: One seasoning packet, not two. Between the packet, the fish sauce and the salt already in the noodles, it goes past salty into inedible fast.
ต้มแซ่บกระดูกหมู (tom saep kraduk mu) · Bangkok
The Isaan cousin of tom yam: no coconut, more chili, toasted rice powder stirred through. It arrives in a hotpot over a flame and does not leave the table.
Where you'd actually eat it: Isaan shops in Din Daeng and Lat Phrao, ordered when the table is settling in for the long haul. Whisky soda; the broth is the chaser.
From behind the bar: Never boil the soup after the lime goes in. Heat turns fresh lime juice flat and slightly bitter within a minute.
แคบหมู น้ำพริกหนุ่ม (khaep mu, nam phrik num) · Bangkok
Northern crackling and a smoky green chili dip, on tables all over Bangkok. Scoop, drink, repeat. The dip is hotter than it looks and gets hotter as it sits.
Where you'd actually eat it: Northern and Isaan shops around Ari and Ratchawat market. Crackling is sold in bags at every market in town. Beer over ice, or sato rice beer if the shop stocks it.
From behind the bar: Char the chilies until they look ruined. Underdone chilies give you a raw, grassy dip with none of the smoke that makes this worth eating.
ยำปลาดุกฟู (yam pla duk fu) · Bangkok
Catfish cooked, shredded, dried and fried into a crackling raft, served next to sour green mango. Half the fun is the noise it makes when you break it.
Where you'd actually eat it: Old-school Thai restaurants in Bang Rak and Thonglor, the kind with a fish tank and a waiter who has worked there twenty years. Whisky soda, tall.
From behind the bar: The fish must be bone dry before it hits the oil. Any moisture and you get a spitting pot and a soggy mat instead of a crisp one.
หมูมะนาว (mu manao) · Bangkok
Poached pork laid on raw cabbage under a green flood of garlic, chili and lime. Fifteen minutes, no cooking skill, and it clears the palate after everything fried.
Where you'd actually eat it: Seafood and Isaan shops citywide; the mild sibling of the raw-shrimp plate. Beer over ice, or a bottle of Hong Thong split across a table of four.
From behind the bar: Green chilies and green limes only. Red chilies make it sweeter and blunt, and the whole point of this plate is the sharp edge.
ถั่วทอดสมุนไพร (thua thot samunphrai) · Bangkok
Peanuts fried with garlic, dried chili and makrut lime leaf. The bowl that shows up before you have ordered anything, and the one that keeps getting refilled.
Where you'd actually eat it: Comes free at ya dong stalls and half the beer bars in town, in a small steel bowl. Lao khao, or a bottle of Leo you have not finished ordering food around.
From behind the bar: Fresh or frozen makrut lime leaves only. The dried ones go papery in the oil and taste of nothing.
ส้มตำเจ (som tam jay) · Bangkok
Papaya pounded with garlic, chili, lime and long beans. The jay version swaps soy for fish sauce and drops the dried shrimp. It is on every jay menu in Bangkok, not a workaround.
Where you'd actually eat it: Jay shops flying the yellow-and-red flag, all over Yaowarat and around markets citywide, plus every som tam cart that will make it to order. Beer, ice, no ceremony.
From behind the bar: Order som tam thai and you get dried shrimp; som tam pu gets fermented crab and pla ra. Only the jay version is meat-free. Strict jay also drops the garlic.
เต้าหู้ทอด (tao hu thot) · Bangkok
Firm tofu fried until the skin goes chewy and blistered, dipped in sweet chili with crushed peanuts and cucumber. Cheap, salty, endlessly refillable.
Where you'd actually eat it: Cart food outside night markets and the standard jay-shop order; also the snack plate at Chinatown beer bars. Leo over ice, or soda water if you are pacing yourself.
From behind the bar: Read the sweet chili label. Several Thai brands slip fish sauce or shrimp extract into it. Most supermarket bottles do not, but check before you call it vegan.
ผัดผักบุ้งไฟแดง เจ (phat phak bung fai daeng jay) · Bangkok
Water spinach thrown into a wok hot enough to scare you, out in ninety seconds, stems still squeaking. The jay version leans on fermented soybean instead of oyster sauce.
Where you'd actually eat it: Every open-front shophouse with a wok on the sidewalk, and jay shops during the October vegetarian festival. Beer over ice, ordered by the bucket.
From behind the bar: The standard shophouse version uses oyster and fish sauce. Vegan mushroom sauce plus tao jiao gets the same salty-funky base, and jay kitchens do exactly this.
กล้วยทอด / กล้วยแขก (kluai thot / kluai khaek) · Bangkok
Bananas in a coconut and sesame batter, fried hard, sold hot in a paper bag. Not a bar-table dish. It is what the cart on the corner sells you on the walk home at two.
Where you'd actually eat it: Carts outside the bar strips of Banthat Thong and Ari, running until the drinkers thin out. Eaten standing up, waiting on a motorbike taxi.
From behind the bar: Traditional cart batter is rice flour and coconut milk, no egg and no butter. Some newer versions add egg for color, so ask before you assume.
ไข่ลูกเขย (khai luk khoei) · Bangkok
Boiled eggs deep-fried until the whites blister, then drowned in tamarind caramel and fried shallots. Sweet, sour, salty, and served halved so everyone gets one.
Where you'd actually eat it: Old Thai restaurants around Bang Rak and Talat Noi, and any menu with a kap klaem section. Whisky soda, or a cold Singha.
From behind the bar: The classic sauce is built on fish sauce. Light soy in equal measure keeps it vegetarian and honest; it reads a little less funky, which nobody at the table will mind.
ยำไข่ดาว (yam khai dao) · Bangkok
Eggs fried in enough oil to frizzle the edges, cut up, tossed with onion, celery and a hard sour dressing. Cheap, fast, and it lands better at midnight than it has any right to.
Where you'd actually eat it: Neighborhood bars with one wok and a fridge full of beer, all over Din Daeng and Ekkamai. Ordered when the kitchen is closing and the bottle is not empty.
From behind the bar: The dressing normally uses fish sauce; light soy plus a pinch of salt covers it for a vegetarian table. Dress at the last second or the egg goes soggy.
คอหมูย่าง (kho mu yang) · Bangkok
The default order at every Isaan grill shop. Fatty pork collar over coals, rested, sliced thin, dragged through a sour chili dip. Meant to be picked at slowly while the ice melts.
Where you'd actually eat it: Soi Rangnam, Ari, any mo-lam grill shop with plastic stools on the sidewalk. Hong Thong and soda over a full glass of ice, topped up by whoever sat down last.
From behind the bar: Toasted rice powder is the whole point of jaew. Toast raw sticky rice in a dry pan over medium until deep tan, 8 minutes, then grind. It goes stale fast.
ผลไม้จิ้มพริกเกลือ (phonlamai chim phrik kluea) · Bangkok
Hard sour fruit under a coarse red powder of chili, salt and sugar. It is the chaser at every ya dong cart and about the only sweet thing a Thai drinking table wants.
Where you'd actually eat it: Ya dong carts around Chinatown and Talat Phlu hand you a slice of pickled fruit after the shot. Lao khao, then fruit, then soda, in that order.
From behind the bar: The other cart dip is nam pla wan, palm sugar cooked down with fish sauce and shallots. Good, and not vegan. Dry phrik kluea is the version that is.