Imperial tablecloths with gold etchings lay on maroon tables, which themselves stood upon dark floors. Surrounded by broad mirrors, the restaurant's atmosphere was both quaint and regal. Pink and red orchids stood in slim vases just to the side of my menu – a menu with too many options for an overthinker like me, but perhaps just perfect for the rapidly growing metro. Over even the pleasant atmosphere and the plethora of items to choose from, I was surprised at just how polite and fun the wait staff was; to my knowledge, they had no idea that I was there to critique their establishment. 

To be honest, I have limited experience with Thai food, though occasionally I have enjoyed a Pad Thai here or there when at the home of another. Combined with my own indecision over the many options, I begged the energetic waiter for his recommendation for a main course, as well as a side dish, and to surprise me with a soup. If you have followed any of my reviews, you know that I do my very best to find great soup in the metro for other enjoyers of hot, seasoned broth. It is for everyone else’s sake, of course. 

On my first pass of Thai Orchids, I forgot to ask the waiter which soup he brought out, and thus had no reference of what it was called, and so I went into the restaurant another day with the express intention of finding it, only to become distracted and order even more food. 

Held in a white and blue porcelain bowl, aromatic mushrooms could easily be seen in the spring-yellow soup, which was decorated finely with little green leaves of bright basil. Dipping my spoon in and pulling it out came with the charm of finding bits of chicken mixed in. The first taste held a balance of being neither too light nor too heavy a soup. Immediately, I was charmed by the fact that it didn't taste like any soup I had ever had in the States, like how the Chinese food we eat is Americanized. Often our soups have too much onion or celery, and so I wondered if that was what authentic soup from Thailand tasted like – it was like something hearty to be had in the morning before a full day of work without leaving you feeling lethargic. 

Simple spring rolls were served next, and had in themselves cabbage cooked well. I have had food like them before, and the good ones could be called so when they remain light. Any side dish that makes the main course harder to eat by taking up too much room is not a good side dish, and these rolls did well. They succeeded in being enjoyable and not overbearing with their lightly fried exterior. 

It was after I was done eating a few and jotting down notes in my little black book that I heard a customer enter the restaurant to pick up an order. Upon doing so, the staff helping them said, “We appreciate you." And, in return, the man exclaimed back earnestly, "We appreciate you!” 

With the arrival of the main dish – Thai Orchid’s popular beef pad-thai – the waiter brought out something akin to a hashbrown-vegetable-cookie for me to try, possibly because he was aiding me in my discovery of new Thai food, or maybe because he saw me writing and wondered if I was a critic. The vegetable-hash-thing was incredibly light and fluffy! “Scrumptious?” Is that an acceptable word for an adult man to use? Well, it was. It was gone in three bites, and if I hadn’t been there to also eat a giant pad-thai, then I would have ordered more. 

Sat on a porcelain plate which served as a white backdrop, it framed a festival of colors which was the pad-thai. A nutty and rich aroma met me and strangely reminded me of food at my late great-grandmother's farm in South Dakota. The word “homely” came to me - and warm. It felt like a small sin to mix up the neatly arranged colors and layers, but a necessary one to retrieve the sweet beef cuts – and sweet they were, absorbing the sauce when it was cooked with the rest of the pad-thai. Smooth and rich, the meat made the dish, not being outshone by the heat of the dish (I ordered a ‘4’ out of ‘10’ on their heat scale) or any other spice or ingredient. Thai-Orchid’s beef pad-thai brought with it the richness of the earth, with a sweet and easy glaze. 

I did mention that I went back a second time? Of course, it was -strictly- business… in the way that you agree to study or work with a beautiful woman whom you wish to court. Strict. Business. Stay focused– 

Yellow curry dumplings? What are those? 

Brown sugar cooked in a bright, fried, picturesque shell was at the very least an afternoon delight of some reckoning. Best served among friends or with a handsome partner who likes sweet things, they were as if candy was cooked by a master chef and came out fabulous. Honestly, they seemed more like a fun dessert than a starter item. I am also a sucker for fried dumplings, so do with that information as you will. They were sweet enough that eating them reminded me of the scent of a basket of flowers found in a desert devoid of smells. 

At the recommendation of the kind waitress, I ordered the Garlic Shrimp and committed the sin of mixing it with perfectly cooked white rice. If you are a fan of garlic and shrimp, there cannot be a better dish for you. The shrimp themselves were huge: just gigantic compared to the shrimp that I’ve had at many places elsewhere. The flavors were bold and forward, broken up (hardly) by cute baby corn cuts and bits of carrot. I likely ordered it at too hot of a temperature, but I ate it all regardless. Truthfully, both the Beef Pad-Thai and the Garlic Shrimp were fantastic in both quality and price-point for the sheer amount of food that you get! 

With the mirrors and the reds and maroons, the pink flowers and friendly staff, the atmosphere of Thai Orchids is fantastic, and a sharp and welcome contrast to the humble exterior. It was a wonderful jaunt to a metaphorically distant place with very – and wonderfully – un-Americanized food. A delight to the senses and taste buds, if you like great food regardless of it being Thai, this is the place for you.

Austin Petak is an aspiring novelist and freelance journalist who loves seeking stories and the quiet passions of the soul. If you are interested in reaching out to him to cover a story, you may find him at austinpetak@gmail.com.