Long Chim, a new Thai restaurant thrust into in the throbbing heart of London’s Soho, almost embodies owner David Thompson.
Like the Aussie chef, who opened Europe’s first Michelin Star Thai eatery, Nahm, in the capital in the early noughties, this place pops with a frenetic energy.
You’ll find the back street Bangkok-style joint on Rupert Street, where it shares an entry with Hovarda (very important info so you don’t end up almost pressing your face against the glass longingly, searching for a way in, like we almost did).
Inside the darkly lit dining room, myriad distractions jostle for attention. Neon lights. Splashes of vivid art. Uptempo music that sets a pace. Tables so close together as to almost deliberately give a sense of communal eating. And an open kitchen, soundtracked by the fierce shunt of cleavers hitting wood as chefs hand mince pork meat, surrounded by a steamy fug of five spice, chilli and herbs.
Armed with Eye of the Bird cocktails (a tropical little number squeezing in all the goodies – passion fruit, tangerine, lime, sawtooth coriander, tequila, orange blossom and spicy sea salt), we scanned the thankfully short menu greedily.
It’s not your average Thai takeaway, this. David’s expertise in the country’s regional cooking, and painstaking attention to detail, mean anything that lands in front of you will be as far removed from ‘bog standard’ (read insipid watery green curry) as it possibly can be.
 | David Thompson is a respected authority on regional Thai cuisine, whose food overflows with flavour |
Instead, expect breaded cured pork with pickled ginger and garlic, lamb with cumin, chillis and laksa leaves (often called Vietnamese coriander), and cuttle ish in three flavoured sauce. It’s a menu that will both inform and excite, bringing flavours to the party you very likely have never experienced before – all served freestyle (ie as and when dishes are ready).
First to appear at our table were slender eponymous Long Chim Rolls. Crispy, dainty-looking things, shattering on biting, and revealing a savoury minced filling, to be dunked into the spicy-sweet dip on the side. Very nice.
But completely outshone by a bowl of hand chopped minced pork (with a healthy dose of rind – great for getting that skin-boosting collagen in), with crunchy rice cakes, doused in a dressing that kind of slaps you about the face. Juicy, fruity, and sharp. Pungent with coriander and nam pla. Injected with fire. Whatever you do, don’t eschew the almost heart-shaped betel leaves on the side. They’re nothing like the limp and soulless lettuce leaves usually wheeled out as a scooping vessel for these kinds of dishes.
Nope, the betel brings its own citrussy dimension to this dish, serving as a sturdy, fresh envelope for delivering all the other goodies to your gob.
Rarely seen in the UK, white-fleshed grilled kingfish stood out for its firm, meaty almost salmon-like texture and subtle taste that soaked up a sauce of green mango and chilli.
While the hugest black tiger prawns on the shell burst with that heady crustacean essence as they were pulled from their slumber in a clay pot of vermicelli, celery leaves and spring onion and prised open.
Both of us loved the crispy pork with five spice, where the succulent, melting cubes (again, with that chewy, supple rind) stood up to seasoning with heady spice, whole pickled garlic, a dash of fermented chilli, and crackly lengths of dried red chilli.
 | The food at Long Chim is fragrant, layered, sustaining and vibrant, incorporating ingredients many diners will have never tried before |
And we were utterly blown away by the Panaeng curry of beef rib with peanuts and basil. Drop all your plans for the weekend and get thee here for this bowl, which will elicit ‘spoon wars’ at the table amongst those sharing their food. Let me tell you, this was the pinnacle of the evening. You might think ‘curry - meh, been there done that, next’, but to assume all curries are the same is to, frankly, be ignorant of the work and time that goes into the cooking.
Many many hours had gone into crafting this one – likely based on David’s famed published recipe which contains more coconut thank you can shake a palm tree at. Big, gelatinous, quivering pieces of rib of beef off the bone, collapsed under cutlery, coated thickly in a sauce that brought layer upon layer of flavour and texture – full-bodied richness from the coconut peanuts, a savoury bite, just a tingle of heat, some sweetness, anise/pepperiness from the basil. This is a dish to swoon over –and one to come back for, over and over and over again.
Find out more here.
