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By admin on Jul 14, 2009 | In Restaurant Reviews | Send feedback » by: Anna Brown Thai Spice I pulled into the parking lot last week and stared up skeptically at the tiny strip mall at Monkey Junction, displaying signs for the dry cleaners, a chiropractor’s office, an Italian deli and my current lunchtime destiny: Thai Spice. There was nothing but a bright yellow sign with bold black letters to distinguish it from the other stores, along with a two-foot-tall neon “Open” sign above the darkened windows welcoming my entrance. The interior of Thai Spice is just as unassuming as its exterior. On top of ordinary dark carpeting sit plain wooden tables and chairs, covered by simple bamboo placemats tied together with a rust-and-burgundy colored string design. The surrounding walls are the color of pumpkin pie, only occasionally marred by unobtrusive art of beautifully painted Thai women, intricate calligraphy and tiny glass votives. Thai Spice seems to be a place where minimalism is key in both décor and service. Apart from the occasional chatter of customers and a few bangs from the kitchen, most of the restaurant remains silent. The waitstaff speaks little more than to repeat orders and ask if anything is needed—but don’t mistake their silence for lack of attention, or a half-eaten plate could disappear from the table without notice. Thankfully, this only happened with my bowl of soup, and their service was on the whole very conscientious and unobtrusive. I sat waiting for one of my favorite lunch dates, my grandmother, sipping my iced Thai tea, which is little more than regular sweet iced tea with a heaping helping of cream floating on top. When stirred together the whole concoction swirls into a bright color of orange, much like the walls of the restaurant, and transforms regular tea into a decadent, slightly spicy mixture that manages to be just as refreshing as sweet tea on a hot day but somehow rich enough to fully satisfy a sweet tooth at the same time. “Well, I’m starving, so we eat as much as possible, and then I go home and write about it,” I said directing her toward the appetizer selection. Thai Spice does not have an extensive or unique menu, and the appetizer section is only the first indication of this. However, this does not mean that they don’t do their classics well. We ordered the Crab Rangoon, which is one aspect of Asian cooking that I find especially hit or miss. Thai Spice made the appetizer a hit. The recipe is simple enough: crab meat and cream cheese wrapped in a wonton wrapper, deep fried and served with sweet and sour sauce. What makes the simple recipe different at Thai Spice is rather than serving the Rangoons in the shape of the typical “purse,” they wrap them like small egg rolls, which manages to keep them crisp and flakey without being the least bit greasy. The filling is sweet and smooth, creating an exceptionally delightful contrast with the crunchy exterior. Their sweet and sour sauce provides another interesting disparity between Chinese fast-food and Thai Spice’s ability to offer more fine dining fare. The main difference remains in the color: Whereas the neon hues of most sweet-and-sour sauces disturbs me to no end, Thai Spice’s sauce is a much more natural pale amber. The taste of the two sauces may also be very similar, very sweet and slightly sour, but there is something about the slight hint of spice I tasted in Thai Spice’s sauce that elevated it above the competition and literally gave it that “zing.” The soup served with entreés here might look like the average lightly seasoned broth found in many other restaurants, but Thai Spice kicks it up a notch with—what else? Thai spice. Upon first taste the heat grips at the tongue and for those not used to spicy foods—this will probably not go away. Get past the burn for a real treat, however, as the flavors of the tender beef, carrots, mushrooms and cilantro meld to diminish the heat and somehow allow the customer to really delve into the soup’s depth of flavor. Quickly and silently, just like everything else, my soup had disappeared and in its place sat my entrée: Paradise Ginger. For all of the entrees at Thai Spice, customers have the choice of ordering pork, chicken or tofu at no extra cost, or for a slight up charge, they can have shrimp ($2) or beef ($1). I chose chicken so my meal slightly resembled Christmas decor, as the white chicken strips, green celery, scallions and red peppers popped against the lightly golden ginger sauce. The chicken remained moist, which allowed for the perfect distinction between the crunchy veggies. The ginger sauce held it together and proved the real star, as its slight hint of spice kept the dish cool, refreshing and clean. The only complaint I had was with the jasmince rice, which seemed a tad overcooked and rubbery. My grandmother was already digging into her Siam Sweet and Sour Chicken when I looked up for a taste. “It’s so sweet it could be dessert,” she laughed, offering me a bite. “But the ingredients are strangely fresh, unique and not at all heavy so I feel like I can keep eating!” She was right; the sweet-and-sour sauce was the same from the Crab Rangoon so the chicken, onions, pineapple chunks, tomatoes, and cucumbers were drenched in a thin sauce that tasted mostly of honey and apricots. At first this seemed overwhelming, but somehow the freshness of the pineapple and cucumbers kept the sauce from overpowering the dish and gave it a lightness that kept it from weighing down the stomach. I hugged my Meeme goodbye and stared back at the plain storefront where Thai Spice resides. It doesn’t seem like much from the outside, and upon first entry the impression may lack pizazz. But Thai Spice is one of those rare places where the food truly speaks for itself and the tweaks they make to classic recipes will certainly keep its followers relentlessly loyal. EN |