Pakarang

Lip-smacking Thai cuisine with a Pacific theme

by Bill Rodriguez

303 South Main St., Providence, 453-3660
Open Tues-Thurs, 11:30 a.m.-3 p.m. and 5-10 p.m.
Fri, 11:30 a.m.-3 p.m. and 5-10:30 p.m.
Sat, 12-3 p.m. and 5-10:30 p.m.
Major credit cards
Sidewalk access

By all reports, Thai people, as a culture, are gentle folks, with a rep for being the sensualists of Southeast Asia. That sure shows in their cuisine, which is demonstrated with lip-smacking finesse at Pakarang.

Often a restaurant's décor -- if it's a declaration rather than an accident -- is a tip-off about what to expect from the kitchen. Pakarang's is subdued, pacific if not Pacific -- a sea theme, although that's not overly reflected on the menu.

You step in through a curving, stuccoed walkway as though entering a grotto. In the high-ceilinged dining area, you face a wall inlaid with a wind-tossed waves design, which wraps behind the bar. Seashells, a coral branch, and ceramic fish decorate here and there. The effect is light and cheery. Fresh carnations are on each table.

You find yourself unwinding even before the beer you ordered arrives. A bottle of full-flavored Singha malt liquor is my recommendation, a robust brew that reminds me of how Thailand was once known for its pirates.

For an appetizer, try the "Pakarang Sampler" ($5.50), which offers two each of three items available full-portion. All are small, so this could be an order for one person. And all are quite tasty.

The Pakarang rolls are fried spring rolls with a delicate minced filling. They are served with a "spicy turnip sauce" that has shreds of the tuber and bits of red chili in a sweet rice wine vinegar base. You won't want to use the sauce on the curry rolls, though. Fried triangles stuffed with chopped chicken and vegetables, they are aromatic with a curry too delicate to alter.

When faced with a pleasant dilemma, it's nice to be able to pick both options. At Pakarang, they realize this and offer soup in individual bowls rather than the tureens common at Southeast Asian restaurants. That way, you can share more than one kind.

The first of the two I couldn't decide between was hot-and-sour shrimp soup ($3.25). Evidently, the chefs here stand up and salute when they make this, because the menu describes it as the "Thai national soup" and declares that it receives their full attention. The hotness was mild and comforting, chili oil beading on top of what seemed to be a tomato broth. Fresh cilantro was the perfect garnish.

But my favorite Thai soup is any of the many variations of coconut milk soup. The Pakarang version of chicken coconut soup ($2.95) is smooth as velvet and not as cloying as it can be with the cholesterol-rich "milk." Plenty of fresh field mushrooms and a few straw mushrooms float there with the scallions. I would have preferred to fish out the lime leaves and the bark-like galanga myself, but the traditional spices did their work nicely, without leaving excess evidence.

The main dishes, however, are diverse and exotic, from wild boar with basil sauce ($9.25) to five varieties of duck, including one in a hot tamarind sauce ($12.25) that I must try next time. I had what they billed as a "seafood volcano" ($14.95), which bore the only three-asterisk hotness warning I detected on the menu. Don't be put off: while it will draw curious beads of sweat to your forehead, it doesn't have the spoon-bending spiciness that some Thai boîtes perpetrate on the unwary.

The chili and garlic brown sauce was thick and so savory that we ordered more rice to blot up all we could. The squid, scallops, clams, and shrimp were not over-cooked and were accompanied by plenty of vegetables.

If veggies are your meat, you might consider ordering the "pine nuts chicken" ($8.95), as we did. Its sauce is another tantalizing winner, not hot at all, and you can fork over the funereal morsels of chicken to your dining companion. The flora is bountiful, from the unusual inclusion of cauliflower to the double varieties of squash and bell peppers.

The portions filled us up. Like us, you might not have room afterwards for the stuffed rambuton or lychee in syrup (both $1.50), not to mention the fried ice cream ($3). That shouldn't be a problem. It just means that you'll have to come back again.