Grasshopper has communal tables in the Thai tradition. Photo / Babiche Martens
Herald Rating: * * 1/2
Address: Stamford Plaza Hotel
Phone: (09) 308 9211
Web: www.grasshopperrestaurant.co.nz
Open: Dinner 7 days, lunch Mon-Fri
Cuisine: Modern Thai
From the menu: Lobster patty, red curry paste, kaffir lime leaves $15.50;
Egg net with pork, prawns, bean sprouts, sweet vinegar $24.50;
Black sticky rice and coconut pudding, mango sorbet $10.50
Vegetarian: C'mon, it's Thai
Wine: ... and cocktails and beer from the bar
Modern Thai: an exotic, fascinating concept, not from the Far East but from the Inner West of Sydney. If you don't know your jasmine rice from your Longrain, it's the creation of David Thompson, an Aussie who lived and worked in Bangkok, went home to open Darley St
Thai, and created a fashion and an empire.
The Thai Government paid Thompson to open a restaurant in Bangkok; then he shot through to London where he opened Nahm - the only Thai restaurant in the world to boast a Michelin star.
Authentic, no. The style, taken up by Thompson's disciple Martin Boetz at his Longrain restaurants, uses original ingredients and the hot-sour-salty-sweet formula as a starting point. Meals typically include a fiery salad, rich curry, palate-cleansing soup and a perky relish, served in the middle of a communal table. The most frequent adjective is that scary one, challenging.
Auckland has been crying out for an antidote to the anodyne establishments across our suburbs. The Stamford Plaza raised lime signs recently, and my eyebrows when I heard Grasshopper Modern Thai restaurant was franchised to the folk from heavily traditional Mai Thai just up Albert St.
For Jude and I, her daughter, Sian, and Guy, first impressions are very good. Grasshopper has the communal tables of Thai tradition, made cool by Longrain and the supremely hip Jimmy Liks in Sydney. It also has booths (a couple were wrapped around each other in one, eyes for nothing but his laptop. They must have been concerned about the baht. It is a business hotel) and tables for twosomes (it is a business hotel. These are more likely for lonesomes).
Yes, we are the only diners to be welcomed by the women in designer uniform cheong sam. Oh, and the European-accented young man. "He looks nervous," whispers Sian. She may not have noticed, but young men often feel nervous around Sian. Another customer arrives from hotel-side.
Whoever wrote Grasshopper's menu and described it as Modern Thai, or Thai fusion, hasn't read too many coffee-table cookbooks in Borders. Much is padi-standard.
We rate fish cakes and vegetarian spring rolls highly; Guy is especially taken with the grilled scallops in a spicy sweet chili sauce. It's a good start and we're looking forward to our mains. Half an hour later we are still looking forward to them, surprising, since there are more kitchen staff than customers, 6-5.
After 45 minutes I am beginning to lose my patience. Guy has put in a solid 12-hour day preparing a yacht and needs the red meat that Sian has thoughtfully ordered instead of his original, restrained request for pad Thai noodles with bean sprouts. The mains arrive at 52 minutes. We follow the dictates of either traditional Thai dining, or its designer update, and put all the plates in the middle where we can dip and divide.
We agree chicken with cashew nuts is pretty good until Sian picks a crispy potato from a basket. "Kettle fries," she says. "I don't think so, in a restaurant like this," I protest. "Trust me," says Sian, "I'm an expert on the subject of kettle fries."
Thumbs-up, too, for darned tasty roast pork belly and spicy plum sauce, with sweet and gorgeous pineapple-infused rice.
Star is Alaskan king crab, Asian style, with ginger, spring onion and chilli sauce. It is worth the wait.
Guy gets his iron uptake with a lamb rack. The menu says it will be grilled and topped with garlic and pepper sauce. Sadly it has only a passing acquaintance with the griller. Even I, who like my meat pink, blanch at the sight of raw. Someone has had the bright idea of pairing the lamb with long, pink eggplant. It was not a good idea, for the almost slimy texture does not sit well with the meat. Or sauce.
Yes, we had desserts. They were nice enough, in an international hotel sort of way.
"If you had the choice," Sian asked, "would you rather eat here or Mekong Neua?" "No contest," I fessed up. It was the first time I've paid $250 for a Thai meal and felt short-changed.
