Where We’re Eating: My Thai
A year ago, a typical night at My Thai might include a single occupied table — usually a Penn professor and friend — plus one or two people standing by the entrance waiting for their to-go orders, the door and vestibule still proudly displaying decade-old accolades from Zagat, AOL City-Search and Philadelphia magazine. It had the feel of a restaurant whose best days were behind it.
On a recent evening, though, the majority of the tables were filled. The Penn professor was still there, as were the customers standing by the door awaiting their orders. But there were also tables of neighbors sitting down to dinner. There was an energy in the dining room, and it was picked up by the kitchen. The Thai basil chicken was better than ever. The curry was punched up. Even the Singha beer tasted fresher. The always-polite Thai waiter was joined by an equally polite sidekick. When he noticed I’d devoured everything on the plate but the broccoli, he suggested that next time, I substitute a vegetable I like better. I will, and that next time will be coming up soon.
2200 South Street
Originally published in the December, 2014 issue of Philadelphia magazine.