"How much curry can a girl eat?"
I asked my husband when he suggested Thai food for the third
time in a week. I adore Thai food. The smell of lemongrass and
chilies makes me swoon. But how many times can you eat it?
If you’re a Thai food junkie: the answer is seven – once a day
isn’t a bad place to start.
Finding restaurants in Brooklyn that serve authentic Thai food
when we need a fix isn’t always easy. Some have turned the spice
down so far that the food has a "McThai" quality –
in other words, no one in Iowa would notice the heat. And I was
told recently that a chef in a local Thai place was using goat
cheese as an ingredient – a sort of "nouvelle Thai."
That’s fine; I’m for creativity in the kitchen. But when I need
Thai food, it isn’t goat cheese I’m after.
What I want are the clean, bright flavors of Thai cooking at
its best: the astringent tartness of lime; the anise-like quality
of basil; the freshness of mint. When a dish balances all those
tastes perfectly – it is a magical experience. Not every dish
I tried at Tuk Tuk, an attractive restaurant in Boerum Hill,
had that magical quality, but a few of the dishes I sampled were
vividly seasoned and had the heat I crave.
Walk into Tuk Tuk, open less than a year, and you’re met with
the pungent aroma of garlic and lime and the hissing of oil sizzling
in hot woks. The restaurant is one long, narrow room seating
30. The wood-on-wood decor is casual – bleached wood floor and
wooden tables surrounded by an assortment of neutral-colored
chairs and sofas. There’s a bar but no bar scene. I’ll call Tuk
Tuk a family place and hope that my description won’t turn anyone
off. It is easy for anyone, with or without children, to eat
comfortably.
Tuk Tuk was named for the ubiquitous three-wheeled Thai vehicle
– akin to a taxi – which makes a "tuk tuk tuk" sound.
The waitstaff runs gracefully from table to table and never seem
to loose their ear-to-ear grins. A waiter who appeared to be
servicing 20 parties at once, stopped at our table, scribbled
our orders and returned seconds later with our bottles of Singha
– a light beer that’s a must-have with Thai food.
Everything on Tuk Tuk’s menu looked appealing except the American
fried rice, an American chop-suey-Thai hybrid that must have
been included for the amusement of the chef. This amalgamation
of East and West featured raisins, frank (not capitalized so
I’m assuming it’s a frankfurter and not a customer with an unpaid
bill) drumsticks, sriacha (a hot chili and garlic sauce) and
ketchup topped gracefully with a sunny side up egg.
The tom yum soup was everything it should be: heavily scented
and citrusy from the lemongrass, the shrimp tender and the mushrooms
earthy and silken. The glass noodle soup, though, was one odd
bowl of flavor. The broth had a musty aroma and the tough slices
of calamari, stuffed with mealy ground chicken, were unpleasant.
The chef makes no concessions for the American palette when spicing
a mussel pancake appetizer. Made from rice flour and filled with
tender mussels and soft chunks of onion, the pancake is liberally
dosed with fiery sriacha. It’s hot, but the heat only intensifies
the brininess of the mussels and the sweetness of the onion.
Tuk Tuk’s green curry also packs a slow burn. Hot it is, yet
the fiery chilies are tempered by the creamy coconut milk, while
the flavors of the shrimp, soft eggplant and basil leaves remain
vibrant and distinct.
Pad rama long-song, an entree of pork in a peanut sauce served
over steamed broccoli, carrots and string beans took awhile to
grow on us. At first, the sauce tasted like peanut butter – heavy
and cloying. As we ate, the flavors of coconut milk emerged,
as did the nutty flavor and saltiness of crushed peanuts. Crisply
cooked vegetables seemed to lighten the dish.
At owner Tassanee Boonmongkol’s suggestion, we ordered the Thai
ice cream dessert. A huge bowl with several scoops of pastel-colored
ice cream was placed before us. We liked the coconut and the
litchi ice creams more for the heat relief they provided then
their mild flavor. The scoop of palm nut ice cream (also called
luk taan, an opaque sap extracted from the nut of a Palmyra palm)
with its chewy, gelatinous bits and dusty aroma is an acquired
taste.
When we return to Tuk Tuk we’ll order the noodle dishes and a
Yum-Yum (in Thai "yum" means salad.) The nam-tok, which
includes grilled beef, lime juice, hot chilies and mint sounds
like it would be worth a try.
Tuk Tuk aims for authenticity and I applaud that. With so many
restaurants in our area serving tame "Thai-like" versions
of the real thing, it’s a pleasure to find a restaurant that
isn’t afraid to turn up the heat.
Tuk Tuk (204 Smith St., between Baltic
and Butler streets) accepts cash only. Entrees are $7-$9. For
reservations, call (718) 222-5598.
