Duck soup

By Paul Reidinger

IF FAME ATTACHES to the corner of O'Farrell and Larkin Streets, it most likely has to do with the big porn houses: the Century Theater and, just up the block, the Mitchell Brothers' O'Farrell Theater. A kind of alternative theater district, you might say, juxtaposed to the conventional one a few blocks east on Geary, toward Union Square. Stand at the corner of Larkin and O'Farrell and it's difficult not to notice what's being peddled with all those bright lights, all that neon.

Still, porn isn't the whole story even at the center of the known porn universe. Bangkok Garden, a Thai restaurant that opened in December, boasts a pretty big, pretty bright sign that would be more than conspicuous enough to attract attention on most blocks of the city. The fact that, at Larkin and O'Farrell, the sign seems almost shy says more about the surroundings than about the restaurant itself.

Step inside and forget all about theater and theaters. Not that there's much in the way of interior decoration, other than a vaguely tropical, mango-ish yellow paint scheme and a scattering of standard-issue Siamese doodads on the walls. It is, in its unassuming way, a warm look – which is fortunate, because the space is actually a bit drafty. But then, practically every space has felt a bit drafty over the course of this foul winter.

The real source of heat at Bangkok Garden is the food. It glows rather than blazes, relying more on a panoply of artfully mingled herbs and spices than on the brute blasting power of chile peppers. Even the spicy beef ($3.99 for a huge platter) – strips of meat sautéed with bamboo shoots, onion, mushroom, green and red pepper, chili paste, and basil – did not cause runny noses and watery eyes, the usual clues to the presence of ample capsicum. The spice effect was, instead, subtle and rich, as was true across the menu. Minty beef ($3.95 at lunch), for example, an almost larb-like mound of chopped meat, added to the chili-paste-and-basil effect the fresh slap, like a spring breeze, of mint.

Still, the dish we liked most of all didn't rely on much in the way of herbs and spices. In fact, in its earthy simplicity it resembled more than anything a dish from a European country inn. This would be the duck noodle soup ($4.99), a fairly vast tureen filled with an intense mushroom broth, large slices of shiitake mushrooms, a sediment of linguine-like noodles at the bottom, and throughout, chunks of roasted duck, with their hearty elegance. As with classic Italian cooking, the soup relied on a few classy ingredients, carefully chosen and prepared without fuss, for its (profound) effect.

I would be remiss if I failed to point out that Bangkok Garden's price-to-size-of-serving ratio is about as favorable as can be imagined. The menu proclaims, with the bravado typical of menu hype, that Bangkok Garden's are "the best Thai food prices in the Bay Area!!" I am a believer. A pair of these $4 or $5 dishes will leave a pair of diners groaningly full.

That's a pity only in the sense that it makes more difficult the sampling of so many other fine offerings on the menu. Don't want your duck in a noodle soup? How about roasted duck salad ($4.99), a generous array of boneless slices of meat (complete with beautifully browned skin) served with red and green peppers in a fine dice, a heap of shredded purple cabbage, mint, lemongrass, diced red onion, and an electrifying dressing of lime juice and fish sauce?

Or, if you want soup but not duck soup, there's the Thai classic, tom kha gai ($5.99), with chunks of chicken adrift in a blend of stock and coconut milk seasoned with lemongrass, galangal (the distinctive blue ginger of southeast Asia) and, most fragrantly, Kaffir lime leaves.

Or, if you want salad not soup and beef not chicken, there's yum neua ($4.99), a deeply satisfying arrangement of grilled beef strips and cucumber coins with mint, onion, lemongrass, and lime-fish sauce dressing.

Bangkok Garden's food is not fancy and it is not unexpected, nor is it served in surroundings likely to summon awe – or any reaction, really, other than a shiver or two and a tightening of the scarf around one's neck. If you want theater, of the high or low variety, you'll find it outside, in just about every direction. But better for the moment to stay inside, where the food is plentiful and cheap and more than that, simply good, dish after dish, time after time. That's the kind of performance you don't find every day.