Eating in Paris is glorious in many ways. We have access to fresh produce, much of it local and seasonal. We have a bountiful choice in all things cheese, with over a thousand to choose from. There are restaurants galore, ranging from down-home bistros to fine dining affairs. There are bakery sandwiches that manage to achieve excellence and cost just a handful of euro, and at any moment, a tasty baguette is just steps away. (Though not in August, as one Washington Post article recently established. And not, as I recently established, at 7:45pm in Cannes.)
But despite the widespread access to certain phenomenal food experiences, other once-stalwarts are thin on the ground. I now know to bring my bagels back from New York to avoid the ones at places like Bagelstein. For good Indian, best hop on the Eurostar. And while I’ve found no shortage of great Korean food, good sushi at a non-exorbitant price remains my white whale.
There are, of course, loads of exceptions, and the culinary landscape of Paris is evolving all the time. But the reality is that as compared to cities like Toronto, New York, or London, in Paris, the more foreign the food, the harder it is to find a great iteration. And as a native New Yorker, I always find that a bit tough to swallow.
So it was with a veritable skip in my step that I followed my friend, who promised me “the best Thai in Paris,” to Khun Akorn, just steps from Nation. And seeing as she is a regular, I let her do most of the ordering.
We started with an assortment of appetizers: Chiangmai sausage, which were pleasantly chunky and generously seasoned with lemongrass and herbs.
Moo ping pork skewers were tender and flavorful, marinated in herbs, glazed in honey, and served with a sweet-and-sour sauce I couldn’t help drizzling over everything. (Those deep-fried glutinous rice dumplings weren’t half bad either.)
My friend tucked into a whole, ginger- and spice-infused sea bream, deep-fried to order and served topped with vegetables.
I, meanwhile, gave into my craving for pad Thai. I should have followed my friend’s recommendations: It turned out to be the least impressive dish on the menu. The flavors were fine, but it was a bit gloppy, with far too much sauce. The shrimp, however, were plump and perfectly cooked, if a bit thin on the ground. (I think I got three.)
More enticing when it came to starches was the pineapple fried rice, fluffy and flavorful and piled into a hollowed-out pineapple, which is one of those chi-chi flairs I can’t help but love.
For once, I purposefully saved room for dessert: I can never resist mango and sticky rice, and the version here was excellent, with the tenderest, ripest mango served alongside a pile of fragrant rice coated with a thick, rich, condensed milk sauce.
My friend, meanwhile, went for a coconut-scented combo of black sticky rice and flan.
Is it the best Thai in Paris? Not only am I far from an authority on the subject, but on this, I’ll take a page from the book of David Lebovitz and say I haven’t tasted enough of them to offer a decisive answer – nor do I think I’d want to. What it is is an excellent Thai address where, if you order right, you can encounter some truly delicious flavors. And isn’t that, after all, what we’re all really looking for?
Khun Akorn – 8 avenue de Taillebourg, 75011