Buddhas Out, Beastie Boys In: Refreshing Thai at Spice Factory
For years, Thai food in Beijing has been mired somewhere between cliché and complacency. At worst, a nightmare of crap puns, elephant statues and bland curries. And watching a waitress from Zhengzhou faking the whole “Thai” routine of bowing and smiling serenely as if she’s been doing it her whole life? It’s the closest thing I can imagine to the amusement Chinese people get from watching Mr. Laowai fumble around with chopsticks and the intricacies of Lazy Susan etiquette.
Now, I’ve always liked Purple Haze; they consistently win awards because they are the best Thai restaurant in town. But the best always needs a challenger to keep them on their toes. Spice Factory is a worthy rival, and one of the first Thai restaurants in years to bring genuinely new ideas to the fray.
Most refreshingly, the only trace of Thailand is on the menu. Out with the Buddhas, in with the industrial decor and Maoist slogans. This is starting to sound a bit 1966, I know. But fear not: The slogans and brickwork are simply traces of the factory this space once housed. And yet Spice Factory is intimate and inviting, thanks to solid wood tables, leather seats and great lighting. It’s no surprise that this place is owned by the same people as d lounge, which is just downstairs and still one of the best-looking bars in Beijing.
At this point, at least one of you is yelling, “Style over substance, you fool!” Calm down. It’s only a restaurant. And, actually, it’s a good one. The menu doesn’t mess too much with the classics, though the crispy prawn and pork wontons (RMB 38/six pieces) are tasty, light on the oil and textured with potato and peas. I’ll forgive the intrusion of corn, which I usually count as an ingredient to be added only when all else has failed. I also tried a generous portion of red curry with shredded duck (RMB 58), which delivers an abrasive kick of spicy and sour. Slices of pineapple sweeten the sauce slightly. I paired the curry with a portion of Chiang Mai fried rice (RMB 38); on reflection, a bowl of plain rice would have allowed the curry sauce more room to soar.
As well as the food, there are a few beers (from RMB 35) and a selection of “Thai inspired” cocktails (i.e. lots of lemongrass, mint and ginger) from RMB 60. And Massive Attack and the Beastie Boys are rumbling out of the speakers. And why not? Spice Factory has hit upon a fairly simple notion: that food doesn’t need to be paired slavishly with the sights and sounds of the culture that spawned it. Strip out the bells and whistles and just make good food. I’m not going to say this is the best Thai restaurant in town – not just yet. But they’ve done something different, and done it well.
Standout dishes: Red curry with shredded duck
Also try: Purple Haze
Spice Factory
Daily 6-10pm. Courtyard 4, Gongti Beilu (above d lounge), Chaoyang District (6585 2386) 朝阳区工体北路4号院 (d lounge 楼上)
