Bangkokian cuisine on the rise with prominent chefs
EBRU ERKE
Cambodian cuisine may be highly sought after, and Japan may offer the best of the best, but the shining star of Asia is unquestionably Bangkok. The unstoppable rise of Bangkokian cuisine continues, fueled by the creativity of gifted chefs and the flood of inquisitive foodies visiting the city. And, of course, crazy chefs like Gaggan Anand and fastidious chefs like the Sühring brothers play a big role in this.
On my last trip to Bangkok, I was in the company of prominent chefs who are boosting the gastronomic dynamics of the city. The first and perhaps the most sought-after of these is Anand, whose restaurant made it to the list of the “Best 50 Restaurants” in Asia four times.
“A while back, I was planning to leave Thailand and re-locate to Japan, but destiny had its own fate. Here we are, back again from the ashes, to re-live the dream once again, to re-imagine food, and to ultimately re-start the adventure of cooking,” says Anand.
Before dining at Gaggan, you must set aside any prior experiences with fine dining restaurants. Here, you are not merely enjoying delicious food but also taking part in the night’s spectacle. After parting ways with his partners, he turned the upper floor of his restaurant into an Indian-Mexican bistro called Ms. Maria and Mr. Singh. His playroom is his chef restaurant, Gaggan, downstairs, where he has been serving just 14 customers for the past 16 months.
The night begins with a speech to his guests, who are seated around a single L-shaped table at Gaggan.
"My time in New York during the pandemic inspired me artistically. I figured, why not make my Saturday night routine into my own rendition of a food opera? That's how we came up with this."
The night begins with an address like this. In this show you see all the dishes are plated right before your eyes. Before you start eating, a series of guidelines are listed. They ask that you not speak while they are speaking, if possible, so as not to disrupt the energy. No phone calls or restroom breaks throughout the dinner. If you have an urgent need, you can stand up and leave, but the service for the entire table will stop, and they will wait for you. Also, it is strictly forbidden to take photos inside with flash. The ambiance is dim. When the food arrives, the lights are turned on briefly, shining straight on your dish from above, and those who wish may photograph the food.
The food service is divided into two episodes. The first episode consists of 10 tiny bite-sized snacks that take three, five or even seven days to prepare. In the second episode, it's more of a substantial meal, and there's even a BBQ in front of you at one point. At the end of the first episode, there is a short break, during which anyone who wants to can rush to the restroom and return to their seat immediately.
To avoid spoiling the surprise, you are handed the menu at the end of the meal. However, it is not one of the menus you are familiar with. It's a tiny little book. The meal begins with a "yogurt explosion." When Anand started working in Bangkok, he heard about El Bulli from a restaurant critic and went to intern with Ferran Adria. Upon his return to Bangkok, he developed a yogurt version of their well-liked liquid-stuffed olives, which he has kept on the menu ever since.
Then come caviar and Japanese shrimp served atop crunchy Indian "papadums." Then there's "murukku," a fried food unique to South India that is transformed into a transparent paper-like form using a specific frying technique that gives your palate a thousand different sensations at once.
One of the flavors on the menu that impressed me the most was the tartlet, in which asparagus is turned into gel and ice cream.
"Chole bhature," a north Indian dish made from chickpeas, an important source of protein for Indians; a rendition of creamy "methi malai" with peas and fenugreek; and "kulfi," a kind of Indian ice cream were some of the dishes we tasted.
Anand's biggest dream is to take Indian food to a higher level. He is a master of blurring the fine lines of tradition, interpreting both his native cuisine and fine dining in his own unique style. Now, he is about to open a coffee shop in Bangkok and a restaurant overseas.
Sühring
One of the most unforgettable dining experiences I had in 2023 was at Sühring, which has a modern German tasting menu created by Matthias and Thomas Sühring with inspiration from family recipes and childhood memories.
German cuisine may not excite most of us, but here the twins are changing this perception and elevating their cuisine to higher levels. You can feel it from the first bite to the last. There is something else you feel from the first bite to the last: German perfectionism.
The East Berlin-born chefs came to Bangkok, the place that changed their lives, in 2008 after gaining culinary experience in different countries across Europe. After seven years of working in hotel kitchens, the Sührings spent a year looking for an ideal location and found a detached house that they thought resembled their grandmother's house, which is now the restaurant building, and they inaugurated the restaurant they named after her in 2016.
After three tiny little tartlets that look like pieces of art, a wafer called “Enleta” is put in front of you, looking like "Hanuta," a hazelnut wafer in Germany, containing a duck liver pate with a thin layer of apricot paste. It’s served with vinegar, which is macerated with honey and apricot. For me, this pair of wafer and vinegar was one of the best three delicacies of the whole Bangkok trip.
My other favorite dish on the menu was "Spätzle & truffle." Spätzle, a type of egg pasta, is served here with Alpine Mountain cheese and shaved white Alba truffle. Germans like bread as much as we the Turkish people do. However, this meal would not be completed without good bread. All sourdough breads are baked from an eight-year-old starter. Chefs fermented this starter a year before the restaurant launched.
The dessert, which is offered in the form of a tiny banana made of perfectly realistic-looking chocolate, was a reference to the children’s favorite fruit, the banana, which they had long yearned for in East Berlin.
