Restaurant Review: Thai Orchid

The boyfriend and I have decided to embark on a nostalgia tour of the restaurants we ate in when we first started eating out, in that stage just after graduation and getting your first job, when you realise you finally have this thing called "disposable income" that everyone else has been talking about. As tastes expand along with wallets, these restaurants seem to slip off the list of places you visit regularly, so we wanted to go back and see if they're as good as we remembered.

First on the list was Thai Orchid, a favourite of my boyfriend's about ten years ago, but not visited since. And the first thing that struck me was that it looked like we'd actually gone back in time those ten years. There is an almost Baroque fear of the white wall, the empty space: ornate dark wood carvings are everywhere. Stylish topless mermaids swim in a "tank" by the door, and small elephants gallop across our table. The waitresses are all attired in an interpretation of traditional Thai costume, columns of vibrant colours and gold thread drifting around the space.

We tried to order a mixture both of more widely recognised dishes, together with some from the specials menu. Our starter of pork ribs fell into the first group, but they still managed to disappoint. The meat was actually overcooked, something I hadn't previously realised was possible in a spare rib, so was exceptionally dry. It was dressed with a meagre amount of incredibly sweet sauce, which had begun to congeal where it had been sitting under the lights on the pass. Our other starter, a chicken satay, was fine, but unexceptional. 

We were a bit more adventurous with our choices of mains, and when the Seafood Phad Phed arrived, we thought this strategy had paid off. This was a generous mix of prawns, squid, mussels, and battered white fish goujons in a hot, sour and herby sauce, including plenty of Thai basil. Overall, the dish was warmingly spiced, but it also contained some very spicy chillis. They were too much for me, but my partner loved them. On the side we had a dish of Phak Phad Prig, stir-fried mixed veg, which were freshly cooked, still crunchy, and came in a pleasant light garlic sauce.

The rice, however, was the highlight of the meal. We'd ordered the Khao ob Gati, jasmine rice cooked in coconut milk with pandan leaves. It was heavily aromatic, sticky, and rich, in a nourishing, comforting way, like eating rice pudding as a child. We could have eaten bowls of the stuff on its own, and left happy. Unfortunately, we didn't.

The Northern Thai Steak appeared on the specials menu, so we expected it to be something unusual. The menu description promised garlic and sesame, but what arrived at the table was a sweet and sour sauce straight out of your local cheap Chinese takeaway. We were so appalled that we actually had to check with the waitress that we'd had the right dish delivered; she assured us twice that, yes, this was the fillet steak with garlic and sesame. It was fillet steak only in the strictest definition of that phrase, i.e., it didn't have a bone in it, but the meat was extremely tough and sinewey, nothing like the soft slices we'd expected.

Sitting next to us all evening had been a dessert trolley straight out of the 1970s, the highlight of which appeared to be a Angel Delight topped with crushed-up Crunchie bars. We felt it was safest avoided. Nostalgia, we've found, can sometimes be pushed too far.

Dodo's pop-up restaurant

I often worry that, by focussing on the small elements of a meal, I can give the impression that the big things weren't done well. It's usually not that, but rather that I believe it's getting the small things right that change a good restaurant into a great one. With that in mind, let me tell you that I had the best butter I have ever eaten in a restaurant last week, and that restaurant was Dodo's pop-up in Will's Deli.

Dodo's originally came to my attention through a friend of a colleague; given that I was vegetarian for Lent and another colleague was vegan, their April pop-up seemed like an excellent opportunity to eat out without fussing about whether we'd actually be able to order anything off the menu. 

The butter in question came alongside a deep green nettle soup, herby and earthy. There was a light floral note, perhaps from the deliciously citrussy sorrel flowers floating on top, although the flavour seemed to penetrate further down than that. It came with a wodge of soft soda bread (my second most notable kitchen failure EVER, after the time I tried to make salt cod fritters...) and the amazing butter, slightly goaty like a very fresh goat's cheese, but mostly just clotted-cream rich and fresh. On the downside, the vegans didn't get any of it. On the upside, that left more for me.

The main was sausages and mash, perhaps not the most expected item on a vegetarian dinner menu, but always a pleasing thing for a vegetarian or vegan to see. Meat-eaters often assume it's bacon that gets missed most, but I think that the comfort of a big bowl of sausages and mash is perhaps even more of a loss when not eating meat. These were, of course, crisp cheesy sausages, with not a bit of meat in sight, and absolutely none the worse for it. I'm still unclear what the vegans were served; it looked soy-based but vastly superior to any veggie sausage I've seen before. Throughout the meal, there was little immediately discernible difference in the food served to vegans and that served to everyone else; a nice touch, as it made the vegans feel included. My vegan colleague was, throughout, absolutely delighted by the food she was served.

The side of wild garlic mash could have been more pungent, but then I am a bit of a garlic fiend. There were also some lovely spring greens with caraway, probably the best spice to have with cabbage but wildly underused, and a beetroot chutney that tasted of Christmas. The latter could, perhaps, have done with being more of a gravy: the dish as a whole needed a little more moisture.

For dessert, we all had lemon syllabub, served in hollowed out lemon shells. I have to confess I found this kitsch presentation absolutely adorable! The vegan version was made with coconut, not cow's, cream, but the flavour in both was zesty and refreshing, perfect after quite a filling main course. The rosemary shortbread served on the side was a really inventive touch, something I'd never think of doing myself but which went beautifully with the syllabub. It also managed to do a wonderful thing: it drew the whole meal together in one herbal theme.

Will's Deli, normally a very casual venue, had been utterly transformed for the evening, with linen tablecloths, tealights and flowers. In this incarnation, it would make a great intimate date night. The service was very, very, charming, attentive but not overbearing or formal. A huge plus, for me, is that Will's Deli doesn't have a licence, so it's bring-your-own-bottle, and they're happy to keep whites in their fridge throughout the evening. It would have been helpful, though, to have had the menu in advance, so that we could have chosen wine to match the meal: had I known it would be so herbal, I definitely would have chosen something else.

Dodo's will be popping up again on Friday 23 May; keep an eye on their Facebook page for dates further in the future.