Chaophraya, Chapel Walks, Manchester

It was a grey Friday afternoon in Manchester and I was feeling a little under the autumnal weather. My head felt as though it was packed full of the same drizzly fog that hung over the city, my stomach craved spice and I was looking for the kind of invigorating lunch that would clear my mental fog and kick start my senses. In such circumstances, I could be forgiven for having high hopes regarding Mancunian Thai stalwart, Chaophraya. After all, Chaophraya’s website promised “authentic Thai food”, a cuisine renowned for combining the four elements of sweetness, sourness, spice and saltiness beautifully. Surely I wouldn’t walk away feeling like I’d ingested a bellyful of blandness?

Tucked away down a side street off Cross Street in Manchester, Chaophraya is undeniably stunning to look at, all elegant chandeliers and tasteful water features (the backlit jellyfish tank was enthralling). The unfailingly polite and attentive staff seemed an extension of the tasteful decor. Their sunken tables are cool and original – great if you’re feeling adventurous, or want to practice your limbo skills. I’d like to take this opportunity to apologise to anyone I accidentally flashed my crotch at as I climbed out of my seat with all the agility of a drunken crab.

A selection of Thai Tapas

We started by ordering the ‘Thai Tapas’, a selection of bite-sized morsels to be shared by two people. I have a bit of an issue with non-Spanish cuisine being referred to as ‘tapas’ – I want to shout at the person who came up with the concept that IT’S NOT TAPAS! IT’S JUST SMALL FOOD! But hey, grilled sweetcorn cakes, prawn & chicken toasts, steamed dumplings, grilled spare ribs, grilled pork skewers and chicken satays wait for no woman, especially when she’s sitting across from her husband, who is both a great fan of all of those things and very hungry.

While everything we were served looked good and was cooked perfectly adequately, it was all seriously lacking in the taste department. I bit into a steamed dumpling, waiting for that delicious hit of fatty pork goodness, and got nothing. I did the same with a sweetcorn cake, a pork skewer and the satay and they were exactly the same. Practically everything on the plate was incredibly bland – there was no seasoning, no flavour, nothing apart from the taste of the accompanying sauce we’d dipped each item into. The only things that even came close to having any flavour were the spare ribs and even then, the taste was of the sticky-sweet barbeque sauce they came coated in.

Deep fried sea bass

Beef Penang Curry

We didn’t fare that much better with the mains. My deep fried sea bass was coated in a soggy batter and a gloopy chilli sauce that tasted like it had come straight from a bottle. Mr McMc’s beef Penang Curry (consisting of beef, lime leaves and coconut milk) was, again, under seasoned. A good Penang should taste of lemongrass, galangal and coriander and be thick, meaty and sweet. This was insipid, with the only flavour coming through being that of the coconut milk.

Dining at Chaophraya reminded me of an advert for H&M I saw recently featuring Lana Del Ray. On the outside, it’s beautiful but when you look closely, there’s not much going on behind the eyes. While it serves up a reasonably priced lunch deal (one course for £8.95 and two for £11.50), that doesn’t excuse the quality of the food. I wondered whether they’d felt the need to tone down their flavours to accommodate the Northern palette (which would be a shame – most Mancunians I know love a bit of spice in their lunchbox). They’ve won awards for their food, and the restaurant was full of shoppers and office workers when we visited, so you have to wonder if the kitchen was maybe having an off day. Chaophraya isn’t the only Thai restaurant in town – there’s Try Thai on Faulkner Street, the Pacific in China Town, the Siam Orchid on Portland Street. Even Ning on Oldham Street, while ostensibly a Malaysian restaurant, serves up a cracking Pad Thai. If Chaophraya was just having a bad day, they can’t afford to have them too often.

In the interests of full disclosure, we dined as guests of Chaophraya

Chilli Banana, Lark Lane, Liverpool

Despite living in Liverpool for *counts on fingers* nigh on eighteen months, I’ve never really explored South Liverpool. Indeed, the furthest I’ve ever ventured down the Northern line is Liverpool South Parkway – and (take my word for it), this doesn’t really contain many delights unless you count the 86 to Speke to be a ‘delight’.

Ever since I moved here, I’d had numerous people telling me to pay a visit to Lark Lane. How it was full of good restaurants, good cafés, and an even a branch of my beloved Pi (which is, you’ve guessed it, a bar which specialises in pies – unsurprisingly I was a frequent visitor to their Chorlton branch back when I lived in Manchester). So, on a balmy Sunday, myself and Mr. Cay decided to take a trip down the Northern Line to Lark Lane. And, as usually happens when we venture anywhere outside of Central Liverpool, we felt a bit peckish. What better way to alleviate our hunger than by indulging in a massive Thai banquet?

Despite its rather cheesy name (and even worse logo) Chilli Banana is one of those stalwarts of the Northern restaurant community that I’ve often heard people recommend when I mention how hard I find it to source decent Thai food in Liverpool. (Trust me when I say that the road to this food blog is paved with the carcasses of terrible Pad Thai’s and Tom Yam Gai’s). Seeing as I’ve found it nigh on impossible to eat any decent South East Asian food since my move to Liverpool, I was naturally wary.  However, once I’d made the decision to dine there, I decided to place my faith in their rather impressive looking selection of dishes – indeed, just a quick glance at the menu caused my stomach to rumble loudly in a rather unseemly fashion.

Both myself and Mr. Cay decided to opt for the Special Banquet Menu, a selection which required two separate tables to be cleared so that our incredibly polite waitress could pile them high with food. The first course was bite sized amuse bouché of a deep fried cracker, stuffed with salty cashew nuts, chillies, spring onions and a piquant lime dressing. It was just the thing to wet our appetites and went especially well with slurps of ice cold Chang beer.

My eyes almost popped out when I saw our starter, which was a plate groaning with Thai appetisers – skewers of chicken Satay Gai served with a cucumber pickle which coated the inside of your mouth with a deliciously sticky peanut sauce, Po Pia Godd (mini Thai Spring Rolls), Tod Man Pla (spicy, bouncy fishcakes which tasted pleasantly of lemongrass and were just the right size to shove into your mouth in one thoroughly unladylike bite), Spare ribs marinated in ginger, garlic and coriander which were a delight to gnaw on and slices of cucumber which were topped with a crisp pomelo salad. Being a big fan of pomelo, this appetiser was my favourite. Its crisp citrus flavour melded perfectly with the cucumber, and acted as a perfect palate cleanser before I dived right back in to nab some more of those fishcakes.

Next up, a bowl of Tom Yam Gai – its soothing sour sweetness being just the thing to cut through all the fat and meat of the previous course. This managed to combine everything I love about Thai food, a perfect conglomeration of Hot, Sweet, Sour and Salty which soothed both the appetite and the soul. I could have done without the big hunks of barely cooked mushroom floating in my bowl though – and had to pick these out like a faddy teenager in order to enjoy more huge slurps of that delicious broth. (I would have drunk it straight from the bowl if I could, but I believe that’s not considered seemly in polite society).

The main course comprised four different dishes, Pla Kratiem (Catfish with Garlic and Ginger), Thai Green Curry, Gai Pad Kimon (‘Drunken’ stir fried chicken with kaffir lime leaves, chilli and green beans) and a rather interesting dish called ‘Heavenly’ Beef which was topped with crispy basil. Out of all of these, I found the catfish (possibly the dish I’d been looking forward to trying the most) to be a little disappointing. The whole dish felt a bit flabby, with a heavy hand on the garlic and ginger totally overwhelming the flavour of the catfish. The Thai Green Curry however, was a delight. Laden with coconut milk, lemongrass, coriander and chillies, it was wolfed down by the sweet toothed Mr. Cay in record time.

Drunken Chicken (Pad Gai Kimon) was a definite highlight of the meal – the rice wine laden chicken contrasting perfectly with the fresh snap of the runner beans and the sizzle of the chillies – just the thing to be soaked up by bowlfuls of pillowy steamed white rice.

However, the stand out dish of the meal was undeniably the Nua Sawwan, aka ‘heavenly beef’.  Comprising of thin slices of beef cooked in coriander, cumin and sugar, this was like insanely addictive Thai beef jerky. Even when my stomach felt as though it could take no more, I had to keep nibbling away at small pieces, drawn back again and again by its chewy, spicy taste. Although I couldn’t tell you how it got its name, I do know that whoever named it wasn’t joking when they pronounced it to be heavenly.

After all of that food, you could be forgiven for wondering how I could even contemplate dessert. And to that I would reply that you should never underestimate my capacity for consuming sweet pastry based treats. (I’m fairly convinced that when it comes to desserts, my stomach contains an extra chamber like a cow). Biting into one of these chocolate filled spring rolls was a bit like playing Russian Roulette, as all the time I was convinced that some filling would splurt out and burn off the roof of my mouth. I needn’t have worried. Because quite frankly, I inhaled these nutella filled nuggets of deliciousness so quickly that they barely had time to scald any of my internal or external organs. To soften the blow though, I was sure to dip them in the accompanying ice cream first, a creamy orange concoction that wasn’t quite a sorbet, and, when eaten between bites of spring roll, made me feel like I was eating rather more sensorily adventurous Chocolate Orange.

By the end of the meal, I felt a bit like Liverpool’s answer to Mr. Creosote, wondering aloud whether I should undo the top button of my jeans on the train back to Bootle.  I also marvelled at the fact that (with drinks) our bill only came to around £40 per person – not bad considering the truly immense amounts of food we ate. With great food like this only a twenty minute train journey away from my house, perhaps I should visit Lark Lane more often. Although I’ll be sure to wear my elasticated trousers next time.

Chilli Banana, 2 Lark Lane, Aigburth, Liverpool L17 8US