By Frank Sabatini Jr.
Unless a Thai restaurant offers something more audacious than basil fried rice and other standardized dishes, I can’t find much to write about. It’s actually easier to describe the flavor nuances that exist among everyday foods such as tacos and pizzas than it is when comparing one eatery’s drunken noodles to another.
The menu at Street Side Thai Kitchen stretches beyond the usual suspects with things like top sirloin salad, tropical duck curry, and a slew of cheekier dishes you won’t find in other Thai establishments. Those are listed under a section titled “secret corner,” which our personable waitress described as “exclusive recipes of the house.”
Before pondering them, I started out with a pot of lightly sweetened ginger tea that rivaled most leafy varieties. Pale gold in color, its soothing, mellow flavor finished with a spicy tickle that had me gulping rather than sipping the stuff once it cooled down.
We unknowingly visited during happy hour (5 to 7 p.m. daily), which meant that a bottle of Singha Thai beer served in combination with a small chalice of hot sake was only $6. My companion succumbed, cheering on the contrasts of flavors and temperatures while alternating between the two.
We proceeded to two appetizers: tangy esaan-style pork sausage common to street vendors in northeastern Thailand, and “mean” chicken wings cloaked in a sticky glaze that was simultaneously sweet and spicy.
Both were delicious, particularly the sausage, which was served with julienne ginger, peanuts and green onions. The trick is to pile each ingredient onto a piece of the meat and then get it all into your mouth at once. When accomplished, the reward is a cache of savory flavors and differing textures unlike any you’ll experience from egg rolls, chicken satay and other common Thai appetizers.
Our only pedestrian choice was Tom kah soup, a mingling of coconut milk, lime juice and lemon grass stocked with various veggies. Rarely can I pass it up. Here, the broth was fantastically robust, better than most, and while offering a tame burn at my companion’s conservative request of level-three (on a one-to-10 scale).
We ordered two entrees from the “secret corner” category. Our only regret was that we inadvertently chose dishes that each involved battered, fried proteins.
My companion’s “three-flavored fillet” featured several moist pieces of Dover sole dredged in what could have passed for tempura. Set in a dark, viscous sauce, the three flavors I detected were tangy, garlicky and fruity, the latter from the inclusion of pineapple and orange slices in the construct. All combined, it reminded me of a mildly spicy Sichuan dish, but with a backdrop of tropical sweetness.
I chose the Street Side Thai chicken, which featured a generous piling of breast nuggets drizzled in lime cream sauce. The batter was thicker compared to that of the fish.
Never have I seen dairy creep in to Thai dishes outside of ice cream. But curiosity exceeded our skepticism as we forked into what tasted at first like key lime pie, sans the heavy measure of sugar.
Served over a bed of wok-fried spinach, we quickly grew fond of how the cream and citrus interacted with the poultry — something I might envision eating at a tiki party in Hawaii rather that at a local Thai kitchen.
Other eye-catching entrees I’ll reserve for another visit include soft shell crab tossed with herbs and black pepper; grilled top sirloin slathered in chili-garlic sauce; and “lost in the ocean,” a seafood medley cloaked in yellow curry cream sauce.
At 5 years old, Street Side Thai Kitchen enjoys a brisk business, particularly on to-go orders. The dining room is clean, roomy and cutely decorated, with mostly banquette seating. A few tables are available on the sidewalk patio. The restaurant also provides free delivery to customers within a two-mile radius for orders of $20 or more. Otherwise a $3 charge applies.
—Frank Sabatini Jr. is the author of “Secret San Diego” (ECW Press), and began his local writing career more than two decades ago as a staffer for the former San Diego Tribune. Reach him at [email protected].
