Travel to Bangkok via Sea Thai Orlando chef Jack Jone

Are you longing for a taste of travel? Few of us are doing much of that these days, either due to restrictions, health and safety concerns or both. Fortunately, there are ways to flavor our lives with distant places, whether the vacation is familiar or fantasy: through food. Welcome to a new series where we’ll remind you that the tastes you miss — or those you long to try — are closer than you think.

The bowl of khao soi wears its crown of crispy noodles cocked sideways, like an elegant fascinator atop the head of a British royal. The dish, which comes and goes on weekends at Sea Thai (more specifically on the limited menu of chef Jack Jone’s experimental in-house pop-up, Tuun), indeed appears posh.

“In Chiang Mai,” says Jone, “you could get it on the street for $1. Maybe $1.50.”

Jone’s version, genuine in flavor, modern in plating and as housemade as your Northern Thai grandmother’s if you had one, goes for $13. A pittance for the experience, really. A rich taste of what you’d get for the $1,200 airfare you can’t book now, anyway. A reminder of your post-pandemic Bucket List.

You’re digesting it with your eyes — the silky, jewel-toned broth, the high atoll of braised beef on which the crispy nest rests, verdant cilantro threaded throughout — before you even see the tender base of chewy, curry-soaked egg noodles.

You have to lean over for that, and then come the aromas — chilies, turmeric, coriander, cardamom — these and more, crushed and toasted, their flavors distilled, concentrated, all in-house.

The curry at most American Thai restaurants, says Jone, a native of Bangkok’s Chinatown, Yaowarat, is not often reflective of what one would find in Thailand.

“Here it is sweeter, more creamy,” he says. “They don’t do it the real way, I think, because it is too time-consuming, though people do like it.” Pad thai, too, he says, is quite different here versus home.

In Bangkok, where street stalls can earn Michelin stars, pad thai isn’t fancy, but it’s no joke, either.

“If you visited me there, I would take you to the vendors — they sell the authentic pad thai, the old ladies cook it over charcoal by the order and you get all the flavors from that. You can smell the smokiness of it.”

Again, says Jone, much of what we find locally is lacking.

“They don’t use the dried shrimp and the sweet radish, which is the key of the real pad thai in Bangkok. It’s more umami. More balanced.”

I brought a random box of takeout on my visit so we could do a side-by-side. The two dishes were balanced in weight perhaps, but that’s about it. Jone, plastic fork in hand, powered down several mouthfuls of the sticky rice noodles while I tucked into his Woonsen pad thai, beheading a monster freshwater prawn for its sweet contents before the dish’s true marvel was revealed.

Its glassy noodles — made from mung bean — were shrimpier than the juice in the actual prawn.

“This is the taste of Bangkok,” said Jone, indicating the dried shrimp, the foundation of its flavor. “You can get this 24 hours a day on the street in Yaowarat.”

My box o’ noods was about $11+ with tip. For $5 more, the Sea Thai staple is a stunner of a cultural immersion.

Jone had his own when he traveled to Thailand last year, heading 400+ miles north of home to Chiang Mai, a research trip that inspired some of the flavors on the Tuun menu, which is heavy on braising.

“In Chiang Mai they do it with a chicken thigh or braised beef,” Jone explains. “This dish came from the Burmese people, but it has now been in Thailand for a long time. Food here has been influenced from all over the world — China, India, Burma. So, it’s almost like fusion, but at this point, it is all Thai.”

The broth, he says, is the key and what makes an authentic version transportive.

“It’s so aromatic, so flavorful — northern Thailand can get cold and the soup is warm and comforting. It’s not too sweet or too salty.”

Most curries are served with rice. Khao soi comes with noodles — two kinds — crunchy and pliant. A good squeeze of lime offers that wonderful Thai element of sour. On the side, crispy shallot or onion offer another option for texture, as do pickled mustard greens. A dish of chili, more heat.

There is a smokiness, too, that lingers.

“When we do the paste in the wok, it adds more depth of flavor.”

The Tuun concept, in its test run, may well travel to its own location if guest feedback is positive. Sooner perhaps than any of us might make it to Thailand. For now, we’re mostly staying put, but with a sack of takeout from Sea Thai, you can visit Bangkok virtually, culinarily, from your living room.

Plate it up. Close your eyes. Smell the smells. Pour an off-dry white, or a bottle of Singha. Put on a travel show and do how we do in 2020: Make plans.

Sea Thai

If you go: 3812 E. Colonial Dr. in Orlando; 407-895-0985 or seathaiorlando.com/, facebook.com/Tuun-100463251720309 or instagram.com/tuunorlando/. Tuun pop-up at Sea Thai is weekly, Friday-Sunday. Both are takeout only; pickup or delivery via UberEats.

Want to reach out? Find me on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram @amydroo or on the OSFoodie Instagram account @orlando.foodie. Email: amthompson@orlandosentinel.com.

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