Spice. The maker or breaker of a dish. I've seen one friend proclaim that "Coriander should be banned from restaurants", and she isn't the only one to think so. But many less fickle spices are not found in abundance on the Western palette outside of salt and pepper.
Unlike Long Chim, who not only pile high their spices in jars in defiance of the notion of too much spice, but god, do they use it well.
I'd just handed in my final assignment for semester. It was dusk, and waiting on outside Curtin, I could feel wind on my stockings - The assignment was a case study of Tinder, the online dating application and the way it shapes the city we live in. The man I was meeting, and who came to the university to pick me up, was actually someone I'd met on Tinder while researching the essay, and we'd been to Long Chim once before - it became a trend, you see, to find excuses to test out this restaurant.
When we had first gone there, edging into the heritage building that hosts both it and a number of other restaurants, it hadn't been our first choice. We'd peaked in the different rooms that housed other fancy chefs - Polished wood bars with respectable menus that seemed nice, that waxed lyrics about pine nuts on beef, and chocolate ganache... The standard, hearty, and fancy version of western food. But I knew he liked spice, and being a student, I was feeling fairly sheepish about the whole "These menus cost a lot of money for me" thing to settle for something I wasn't fully sold on. Deeper in the building, we saw a set of stairs.
And down there, was Long Chim.
Colourful tiles and bohemian lights led into a dimly lit room that brightened as our eyes adjusted to reveal many, many people. The menu listed its food as 'Authentic Thai street food' - And we decided to give it a shot. Seated at a bar table, we looked at the fairly innocuous listing of food. The names seemed almost bland, and we grabbed a Roast Duck with rice, and eyed off the Green Beef curry, deciding we'd be happy with that. From a counter that looks into the kitchen with jars of spices framing the view, to larger seating options or a bar side location, we realised it wasn't small with all the people, just incredibly popular.
I cannot express how badly the names mis-represented the meals. It was the kind of food that makes you swear under your breath, and look at each other incredulously over. Where you mumble "This is good" multiple times, not realising how stupid you're beginning to sound.
It's the kind of food that we've made excuses to go back for dinner over, just to try out different dishes. In a reasonable price range, starting at around $30 for a main dish, this is an ideal place to take out a dear friend or a loved one - Or a Tinder date, if you really want to impress. And if they don't like the food - Well, you were better off without them anyway. Just book ahead, as it gets pretty crowded, particularly as it's in the precinct.
For a look at their menu, and to find out more, find them on their website here.
Just be ready for spice.
