Sala Bua Shows Promise, But Shouldn’t Make Assumptions

I was so excited to check out Sala Bua on Saturday night, not only because the early word was that a real Thai woman was cooking down-home dishes here, but also because it was in Chinatown, thus becoming the only place to get a serious som tom fix south of 18th Street. It’s also BYO, which meant I could bring that bottle of riesling trocken auslese I’ve been hanging onto.  I met some like-minded, adventurous friends there during a pretty busy dinner service – the restaurant is in the Richland Mall complex, just north of the Chinatown Square Mall, in a space that’s already turned over a few times (I think it was a hot pot place last). I could tell right away the kitchen wasn’t pulling any punches, as I saw several dishes listed in the menu from different regions of Thailand, such as the aformentioned som tom (papaya salad), plus ha mok (ground and steamed catfish curry with coconut cream), kao soi (my favorite chicken coconut curry with boiled and crispy noodles) and sai krog (fermented sausage). The only problem was our server completely misread us, taking us for a bunch of novices who were more interested in egg rolls than tod mun.

I’m not sure why though. My friend Rick had told him “we’d like to eat as if we’re in Thailand,” and asked for a recommendation. I quickly followed that up by ordering the kao soi, ha mok and som tom. His recommendation for something really Thai? The sad, dried-out moo ping (pork skewers) served with some decent sticky rice and a stellar dipping sauce laced with chiles and toasted rice powder:

Not sure why he would recommend this dish, especially since there were so many other options that looked promising. But as we discovered at the end of our meal, after paying our check and offering some feedback, they just figured since three of us were white and one African American, that we wouldn’t be interested in, and couldn’t possibly tolerate true Thai spice levels. Which is a shame, because if he would have just asked a question, as a follow-up to Rick’s initial statement that we wanted to eat real Thai, this all could have been avoided. Was the ha mok worth it? It was fine; the ground catfish mixed with red curry, steamed in banana leaf cups and crowned with a sweet dollop of coconut cream was serviceable, but nowhere near what I’ve had in Bangkok. Did the kao soi make me swoon, as the version at Sticky Rice does? Not really. The boiled rice noodles and chicken pieces embedded in the sweet coconut yellow curry were o.k., and the crispy noodles on top provided two notes’ worth of texture, but when I asked where the usual side of pickled mustard greens, fresh shallots and chili oil were, I was told that not all regions cook kao soi the same way, and this was a different version. Really.

I did ask for a side of prik nam pla, the ubiquitous condiment that appears on every table in Thailand – simply chopped Thai chilies swimming in fish sauce. Nearly every dish we ordered needed this salty-spicy boost to amp up whatever notes there were on the plate. One item that can’t really be altered to taste was the sai krog, or Northeastern Thai-style fermented sausage. While I’d love to say the funky, porky, encased, thumb-sized orbs were in the same league as Rainbow, Aroy or Sticky Rice, they fell far short, and I’m afraid this is a dish that needs real tweaking for both Thai and non-Thai alike.

Funny enough, we decided to order a pad Thai (beginner territory, I know) and I have to say, not bad. We especially liked the little sides of sugar and dried chili, which allowed us each to customize our noodles, and unlike so many substandard, cliché versions around town, usually suffering from too much sugar or ketchup or tamarind or whatever, this version was actually very good, nuanced with cooked shrimp, fresh lime juice and salty fish sauce:

Would I go back to Sala Bua? Not right away, and I would definitely make a point to tell the busboy, the server and the manager that I’m there to eat like a Thai (“cook like you’re cooking for your family” usually does the trick). If you assume that just because the menu is full of wonderful-sounding, homemade dishes from back home, and they’ll all be seasoned and cooked the same way for every customer, you’ll be sadly disappointed.

Sala Bua

2002 S. Wentworth Ave.

312-808-1770