Walking in at 8pm with high expectations, I was glad we’d made a reservation: the place was packed. Nothing unusual for a Friday or Saturday evening – but it was Monday. We were shown to the last free table in the restaurant’s cosy upstairs. Set in a historic building, Chiang Mai is charmingly higgledy-piggledy, its oh-so-English wood-beamed dining area given a Thai touch with the addition of gold statuettes. Glamorous it isn’t, though: tablecloths are the paper variety and the menu was well-thumbed and spiral-bound. I wasn’t impressed to note a stain on our tablecloth – yes they were busy, but surely there was time to quickly exchange a sheet of paper?
The menu quickly improved my opinion though. If you’re indecisive, you’ll find dining at Chiang Mai a challenge: there are just so many tasty-sounding dishes to choose from. With a page each, starters and salads are manageable, but when it comes to the main event, there are options galore – chicken, pork, beef, seafood, fish, vegetarian dishes, curries; it’s all covered. There’s something for all palates too – spicy dishes are indicated with chillis; 1 denotes medium spice and 2 is seriously hot. With starters ranging from £5.60–7.90 and mains between £8.30 and £14.50, it was less expensive than I imagined – but of course, the price of noodles or rice (from £2.70) must be factored in. After a good ten minutes ruminating, we placed our orders. 45 minutes later, as the other diners had almost all emptied out of the restaurant, we were still waiting to eat.
After some prompting, our starters appeared. M and I had both opted for the tofu (£5.60), which was deep-fried and served with a spicy peanut sauce. Thank goodness for the sauce – we both agreed the tofu was bland and a little watery in the middle, as though it had been sitting around for a while rather than jumping straight from the fryer to our table. The portion was generous, though, as was C’s Mieng Gai (minced chicken with spinach, £6.60). This dish was particularly well-presented (apologies, we were too ravenous to care about photography at this stage), the spinach leaves forming a pretty floral pattern on the plate. She was surprised to discover it was served cold, though. The peanuts sprinkled on top certainly gave an extra dimension, but were whole rather than chopped, overloading the dish somewhat. The chunks of lime also included were a more successful touch, adding a fresh flavour. Unlike the Mieng Gai, S’s fishcakes were hot: both in terms of temperature and spice. With 4 pieces, this was another sizeable starter, and was complimented on its taste.
