HOW COME NO one told me about Manora's? Or does it go without saying? Or did somebody tell me about it and I didn't listen? My wife, Crawdad, knew about Manora's. My little cousins, maybe even my little sister ate there. The Big Burger, I'll bet.

Not me. Nope. Then you wonder why I wonder why people always ask me where to go for dinner. Just cause I'm the Cheap Eats guy doesn't mean I necessarily know what's going on around me, and Manora's is an excellent example of this, this not-knowing- or last-to-knowmanship.

Even when I finally did eat there, finally, it was a complete accident. Here's what happened: I called Binko and said, "Bink, what about that new burrito joint the Lock was all excited about opening up near his house?"

"I don't know," said Binko.

So I called the Lock, but he didn't answer. So I left a message, but he didn't call back.

So I called Binko back and said, "Fuck the Lock. Let's go."

Binko picked me up in his Binkmobile, and we headed down toward Natoma Street, Binko speculating all the while that the Lock was probably watching Simpsons reruns and only needed to be shaked around a little bit in order to get hungry. Or else he was at the gym, which turned out to be the case ... so by the time we waited for him to rinse off, the burrito joint was closed.

And then by the time we recovered and went to our backup plan, Irma's Filipino Vietnamese restaurant on 16th and South Van Ness, Irma's was closed, too.

Now what? we all wanted to know.

Everyone else in the world and all their little cousins and little sisters knew, and lucky for us the Lock knew, too. Manora's. My theory is that I've looked at this place about 999 thousand times and always automatically dismissed it from my eyeballs on the assumption that it was fancy-pants Thai, because, quite honestly, it is.

Inside there's a beautiful bar with colorfully wacky hand-painted stools, and, to your left, a kind of elegant dining room with big chandeliers and incredibly ornate carved-wood trim running all around the place. The lovely lounging-lady paintings are the most intricately framed paintings I've ever seen. If you squint your eyes and think about it, you're being bonked by patterns and patterns and patterns: the splotch-top tabletops, the flowery carpeting, all the ornateness I already mentioned ... Plus there are flowers and candles on each table. When they brought us our dessert, a boat of fried bananas around a mound of coconut ice cream, three spoons sticking out of it, Binko remarked, "This is the most romantic review I've ever been on."

Yes! And the most remarkable thing, besides the obviously remarkable thing about it, is that it was a cheap date. Look:

Tom ka gai, $6.50. Gal tom ka, they call it. In any case, this is that always delicious (and nowhere more so than here) chicken coconut milk soup, the soup of the gods, over which the Lock admitted to us that he'd planned on cracking a can of Campbell's for dinner before we busted in on him. Meaning me and Bink can knock over nuns by accident now without having to worry about karma.

Larb, $5.50. I've always wanted to love larb, and always thought I should, it sounds so good – which is why I've given it so many chances, on both coasts of this country. Usually the meat is all minced to death and overpowered by everything else, including lemon, spiciness, all the salady stuff, and some pervasive flavor I don't like. At Manora's the meat – beef in this case – comes in one big pile, big chunks of juicy, unovercooked steak with whole strands of cilantro, onion, fresh mint, and a separate pile of cabbage. See? Everything has its own integrity. Finally, a larb I can love!

Red curry duck, $7.50. This is my favorite Thai dish, and Manora's one-ups the usual beauty of roast duck and pineapple cooked in red curry and coconut milk with spinach, which I can't get enough of lately. Look at my forearms.

Binko and the Lock ordered a couple other things, but, in spite of the romanticness of the occasion, we did not share too much. I could barely get a fork in edgewise, although I did taste a bite of fine black pepper pork and a skewered scallop. Everything was great.

And maybe you noticed that these prices aren't exactly out of whack with any of my favorite low-brow Thai haunts – in fact, in some cases they might be a little cheaper. On the lunch menu, everything's $5.75 to $7.50.

But you know this, right?

Manora's Thai Cuisine. 1600 Folsom (at 12th St.), S.F. (415) 861-6224. Lunch: Mon.-Fri., 11:30 a.m.-2:30 p.m. Dinner: Mon.-Sat., 5:30-10:30 p.m.; Sun., 5-10 p.m. Takeout available. Beer and wine. MasterCard, Visa. Wheelchair accessible.