ARE you in the mood for Thai
food, with that salty, sour,
sweet and hot balance
achieved through many dishes
that you and your friends
share, family style, and
then, to finish, a
not-too-sweet dessert that
marries sticky rice, coconut
and perfectly ripe mango?
Do not expect it at Siri's
Thai French Cuisine.
At least not quite yet.
Though Sam Sittikul has
plans to increase the number
of authentic Thai items on
the menu, he and his wife,
Vallpa Sittikul, who bought
the restaurant about a year
ago, are reluctant to meddle
with success. They have yet
to change a single menu item
at a place that packs them
in, night after night, month
after month.
It's not that there is no
Thai presence - there are a
couple soups, and there is a
pad Thai, there is one
sublime curry, and Mr.
Sittikul does use lime juice
and chili sauce - but Siri's
is more French than Thai,
with sauces, demiglaze or
wine reductions rather than
that old familiar feeling of
instantaneous heat followed
by layered, lingering
flavors.
On the other hand, if you
are in the mood for fresh,
upscale ingredients,
prepared in classic culinary
methods but with an Asian
flair, you will likely leave
Siri's with a smile and
plans to return.
Siri's dining room is tucked
into a strip mall, just a
few lengths from the old
racetrack in Cherry Hill and
through a scrupulously
scrubbed pastry shop that
holds beautiful desserts
that later appear on the
tray at your table. Inside,
ceilings are a bit low,
tablecloths are long and
luxurious, lighting is
flattering and service is
very, very fast. Good thing,
too; on both visits, the
place was bustling, with
conversation at a high hum
against the symphony of
silverware and china.
Mr. Sittikul says he came to
the United States as a
student about 25 years ago.
A restaurant job soon
followed. That one led to
another, and another and,
eventually, after he had
achieved an understanding of
both classical French and
his native Thai cuisine, he
and his wife decided to find
their own place. Mr.
Sittikul cooks at the
99-seat restaurant, and he
says that Sirirat
Tantiraksachai, a sister of
Surinant Yothchavit, the
former owner, creates the
precisely calibrated
desserts.
The menu is short, with one
page dedicated to appetizers
and another to main dishes.
But the third page, which I
received on one visit and
not on another, is my
favorite. It's not on thick
tan paper, like the other
two, and the typefaces don't
match, but it's the most
radical of the bunch: it's
the list of specials, albeit
without prices. At Siri's,
diners can actually relax
and enjoy the experience,
since extemporaneous
memorization of myriad meal
components is not required.
That is practically reason
enough to return.
There are two Thai-style
soups on the menu - a
version of tom yam gai, with
somewhat dry chicken chunks
and mushrooms in an
agreeably spicy lemongrass
broth flavored with
home-grown kaffir lime
leaves, as well as a
pleasant coconut-based broth
with mushrooms, galangal and
cilantro that Mr. Sittikul
says would appear on a Thai
menu as tom ka hed. The
third listing, a kind of
shrimp dumpling soup with
more shrimp plus snow peas,
was pretty to see and, as a
bonus, was light and
comforting, though the
shrimp were slightly
overcooked.
Once you get over the
disappointment that the
salads aren't Thai but more
New American with an Asian
accent, the greens
department goes from
predictable (Caesar or
mesclun) to intriguing
(tender grilled calamari
over romaine with sweet
house-made chili sauce;
grilled diver scallops and
tropical fruits over greens
with an aioli in which lime
is substituted for lemon;
smoked duck over field
greens). Of the lot, the
duck salad stands out,
mainly for the bits of meat
so intensely flavorful as to
be transporting. Appetizers,
despite all but the juicy
chicken satay, are not Thai,
but most do their job. Table
favorites were the dumplings
stuffed with portabella
mushrooms and leek served
alongside a caramelized
shiitake mushroom flavored
with soy sauce and a sesame
oil; and the crisp prawn
rolls with house-made plum
sauce, a special one
evening.