" Ili1111111111111111111 11111
The Blue Elephant • - , •
IF I were only ever to go to Thai res- taurants in the future, I think I would be perfectly happy. Finer than either Indian or Chinese cuisines, Thai cooking is both fiery and pure. Coriander, lemongrass, tamarind, coconut milk (not the liquid found inside the fresh coconut but that produced by soaking the flesh in boiling water or milk), garlic and chillis: these are the distinctive tastes in Thai food; hot, sharp and sour.
Chiang Mai in Frith Street has long been a favourite of mine and I am usually far too untrusting to try any of the other new Thai restaurants around. Running the risk of ecountering anything less than perfection can seem beyond the call of duty. Still, I went to the Blue Elephant (385 6595) in Fulham Broadway, and the gamble paid off. Sister-restaurant to L'Elephant Bleu in Brussels (Chaussee de Waterloo) and dis- tantly related to the Chao Khum in Bang- kok (68 Ratchadapisek Road), the Blue Elephant opened to grace one of the less charming parts of Fulham just three months ago. The imported restaurant staff must still be reeling from the shock.
I cannot quite remember what the place was before it became the Blue Elephant, but I think one of those cheap wallpaper and home-decoration outfits. Now, neon- lit from the street and wholly redesigned, it's like walking into a film set. The room, multi-layered and turning off in all direc- tions, seems to go on for ever. This is no bamboo slat and china bowl establishment: jewelled hangings and beaten brass gleam, in the soft light; sumptuous but always elegant flower displays peek out from an Emerald Forest of exotic greenery. It all seems a bit much at first, but it does work very well. It's often much easier to feel private in a large, busy restaurant than in a small one. Generally that's the case here, but the tables are perhaps just that bit close in some parts (my neighbours almost stop- ped me eating with their depressingly fascinating long, slow argument). I know eating in groups is hell, but it is better to come here in some number (say four of you) so that you can try more from a menu on which everything says Eat Me. It's important to try and space out your orders and not choose too many of the starters straight off. But I would not advise doing without the vermicelle (sic) salad cold string-like noodles with pork and prawns (a much-flavoured combination in Thai cooking) in a spiky lemon dressing. This comes piled into a capacious pearly shell resting on a beautifully decorated bowl, and is out of this world. If I didn't know that shredded jellyfish tasted quite different, this is what I'd think it would be like.
Bags of gold (little bean curd pouches filled with minced pork and prawn mixture with earthy coriander) should be given serious consideration, too. But the impor- tant thing is that you fit in the Floating Market: a piercingly hot soup, flavoured with lemongrass, makrude leaves (or Kaf- fir lime) and nam prik pao (a curry paste made of ground chillis, shallots, garlic and shrimp) in which float chunks of fish, seafood and vegetables.
If you are going to try a main course each from the meat, seafood and poultry sections, I'd go first for the chaing rai stir-fried pork with chillis, garlic, green peppercorns and lemongrass (again very hot) — or Thai beef salad, a warm salad (not the nouvelle kind) of grilled beef with mint and coriander, in a lime and chilli dressing. If you've had the fish soup earlier you won't want anything similar; the giant prawns rolled in sesame with a sweet and sour sauce are different, as is the hot yellow curry (as opposed to a searing 'red' curry; this one is also sometimes called 'sour' curry) of prawns in coconut milk with ginger-root.
I branched out rather with the chicken and had a steamed chicken soufflé wrap- ped in a banana leaf. This balances quite well with some of the sharper dishes, though the smell and taste of banana can be overpowering. Their chicken wings stuffed with minced chicken, beef and mushroom are praised.
The best thing to drink is undoubtedly Singh beer. Not cheap at £2.25 a bottle, but the cooking really is not suited to any of the wines on their expensive list. Fresh papaya has to be the perfect pudding, though there is also an impressive number of exotic sorbets and sweet, scented cakes.
The food is exceptional, the service nobly courteous and the atmosphere pleas- ing. Don't, then, expect it to be cheap. About £20 a head should do it, and as long as you haven't just had your tonsils out, you won't regret it.
Nigella Lawson
Previous page
