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Chao Phraya Thai RestaurantYour Gregarious Gourmands found the concept of a Thai Restaurant in Ulaanbaatar too incongruous to resist. It being not as obscure as our usual quarry, we decided to take along some not-so-obscure Celebrity Diners as well. The Three Wise Bankers we chose turned out to be a master stroke. Read on………... RESTAURANT NAME: Chao Phraya RESTAURANT TYPE: Thai LOCATION: Any restaurant alongside a railway track in any city sounds menacing, if not obscure. In this case, the well known, even notorious Grand Hotel, Ulaanbaatar houses the Thai Restaurant. 400m west of the Peace Bridge, on the north side of the railway tracks, for those of you who spend your time in Ulaanbaatar with your eyes shut. At first blush you may want to turn right off the lobby into the hotels "normal" restaurant. No - turn left, through a few doors and a tunnel and a young Mongolian bloke in a shocking pink Thai Silk "I-am-not-a-Mongol, I-am-a-Thai" shirt will take your coat. HOURS: Evenings. We left at 10pm with no hint of being thrown out. However with massage parlour next door, the evening could have easily be extended. The presence of our celebrity financiers stopped us from launching another (raunchy) review column.
ATTENDANCE: Our Tuesday night visit witnessed a few tables with patrons. They were a demure lot, completely overshadowed by our table of two epicures and three foodie financiers. The tinkling giggles of the ladies and giant guffaws of the blokes as we swapped lies, yarns and quips must have made the locals think that foreigners think of food second and good company first. Which indeed was the case on this night.
SERVICE: Timely. Jargal's efforts at keeping our individual plates full with personal attention was admirable. Her efforts to reach over the cumbersome table arrangements (made necessary by the disco-inherited seating) were much appreciated. MENU: Well, menus really. Three different types of menus were at the table. All had the same extensive bill of fare and combined gave a good variety of translations in English, Thai, Mongolian, Chinese restaurant-type numbers and also one with pictures. We gave the one with pictures to the bankers, figuring they were more interested in figures than food To our delight, Pete Morrow turned out to be a valuable and knowledgeable food advisor, having spent some time in Thailand. He even had a few Thai recipes hidden amongst all of those lending statistics in his noggin, and enthralled us with the description of the 15 ingredients in "Dead Doo Doo". There seemed more than enough to choose from, in almost Chinese Restaurant fashion. The "wine list" was another hangover from the nightclub, and we could not find a wine on it for love nor money. So beer it was - or in the case of Demure Deb Boyer, soda water. " FOOD: This was one of those nights when the food was indeed secondary to the excellent company. Your scrupulous scribes were tempted to convert this review to a narration of the antics of our three delightful companions. But, this is a serious restaurant review, so . . . . . The roasted cashews and little dicey bits of marinated vegies did make a delightful accompaniment to our beers, as the menu promised. Four sophisticated world travellers dexterously pick up a cashew in chopsticks while the Aussie flipped, dropped and squirted his all over the place. Onto the spring rolls and fish patty entrees, which were so delicious they turned out to be the only dishes that stopped the flow of conversation - albeit briefly. The main courses were fine - Chicken curry in coconut milk (a sweet Indian type); pork ribs that we named "Adams", as they had lost the actual rib bones somewhere; deep fried tofu and Thai fried noodles. No complaints, apart from Pete's constant whining for hot sauce, chillies, peppers, more heat and more spice. Admittedly a Thai foodie would find the food pretty bland, but for UB Out-posters the spiciness was adequate. We understand there were two real Thai cooks out in the kitchen. Indeed, the food was very well presented and in an overall sense, faultless. But having made an effort to ferret out a Thai Restaurant in Ulaanbaatar, we all would have liked to have a blowtorch put to our tonsils to let us know we were successful, and to teach us a lesson. 8/10 for the food. HYGEINE: We didn't visit the kitchen, but found nothing on the plates, on the tablecloth, on the walls or floors of the restaurant that worried any of us, let alone the fastidious banking consultant Niel Isbrandtsen. The cavernous toilets were adequate, with hand driers (the hot blowing sort) but no hair driers - see the Eskimo Restaurant report. COST: 15,000 Mongolian Tugriks each (USD$12, AUD$23 - for you, Bob) made for one of the more expensive eating experiences in UB. If judged alongside other comparatively up-market venues in other cities of the world that is not outrageous. But enough for your penurious connoisseurs to put it on the once-on-a-special-occasion list. An entrée valued at 5,800 Tugriks has set the bar to a new height in Ulaanbaatar dining. Admittedly it was seafood based and may well have been worth the Tugriks (we didn't try it). For those of us used to "the good old days" (see our Beijing Restaurant review) it made us twitch a little. A sign of things to come in our culinary backwater? RECOMMENDATION: Worth a visit at some stage of your career in Ulaanbaatar. Particularly if you can con Deb Boyer, Niel Isbrandtsen and Peter Morrow to go with you. Indeed, this is the last time they get a ticket as Celebrity Diners as their company detracts from our serious assessment of the food and facilities. It is just too difficult to concentrate on those myriad little explosions of flavours inside your mouth (quote from Peter) while Deb is baffling us with quizzes such as "how many grains of rice in a heaped tablespoon of Kurgestan rice?". In case you care - 868. Stringently audited by Deb. At some stage she had a dinner with not so interesting companions, and reverted to counting grains of rice. RATING: 3.6/5
The Agricultural Bank has a branch in every Soum (County) in Mongolia. That means some 280-odd branches. And some of them are very odd. Pete related the story of the branch at the top end of Lake Khuvsgal, so close to the Russian border that the town has both a Mongolian and a Russian name. It has not been visited by head office since 1928. Pete has visited all sorts of his Bank's branches to date, but not this one as yet. He is determined to skate up to the front door one day. One can just imagine the reaction of the local manager - particularly if Pete brings a doggie bag of take-away Thai food.
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APPEARANCE/AMBIENCE: Take a large room that was once a night club or a "night bar", complete with built-in, round-the-walls seating (semi-circular booths) and non-structural columns, add some small tables and brighten the lighting, and what do you have??? A fairly sterile and most unsuitable restaurant room with a huge floor space in the middle that cries out "bring back the disco dancers". However, the owners (a group of distinguished Singaporean businessmen, we understand) have tried a little harder than that, and a few Thai Buddhist statues, some Thai paintings and Thai dress on the staff add ambience - to an extent.
RESTAURANT STAFF: From what appeared to be a very sparse staffing complement, our table was served by one petite and demure Mongolian lass, dressed in - yes that's right - a lovely traditional Thai dress. Her name was Jargal. At times she was run off her feet and her knowledge of English was limited to some very well practised English phrases such as "I hope you enjoy Thai food". She also had "Bon Appetit" in Thai (we presume) down pat. However, she did her best and an overall pass was awarded, with an "A+" for her effort.
Footnote: Our aforesaid celebrity guests are all involved in the banking industry in Mongolia. Pete and Deb are the Managers of the Agricultural Bank and Niel is a banking consultant of long-standing in Mongolia.