Static Zombie

Thai Tom

How well do you really know your neighborhood? I've lived in mine for close to a decade now, and I don't know it nearly as well as I should. I know where things are, of course, but not necessarily how they are-- especially with restaurants. There are so many in the area, and there are opportunity costs to trying out new ones. But those same costs exist when not trying them out, as I discovered when my parents were in town and I finally tried Thai Tom on the Ave.

I've passed by the place hundreds of times over the years. It's a tiny hole in the wall that's not only always packed, but hosts a constant stream of hopeful supplicants on the sidewalk waiting for a table. That's what's known as a Big Clue. I never wanted to deal with the crowd, so I just kept walking. Since it's the U district, that kind of following meant Thai Tom was either very cheap, or very good.

Turns out it's both. Their menu is extremely limited but borders on divine. Everything I've had has been spectacular, the kind of food you remember long afterward with a fondness reserved for cherished pets and technicolor sunsets. They want to turn tables quickly, so slow-cooking panang remains the province of Sea-Thai with their salaciously silky sauce. But oh, the Swimming Rama of Thai Tom is surely a delight sent from heaven. Yellow is not my favored curry hue, but theirs transcends color and crosses into a spectrum of delectability. It's a good thing I have to hop into a car to get to Thai Tom-- if they were in closer proximity, I'd be eating there every night instead of merely once or twice a week.

The next time you see a local joint that's always packed, make the time to check it out. As for me, I've got a decade of neglect to make up for, one dish at a time.

Posted by Peter at September 2, 2003 12:35 PM