Collision Courses: A fusion of Thai and Mexican cuisines at Tuk Tuk Real

From Yucatan tamales to Lebanese milk shakes, few food cravings go unmet in a city such as ours. Yeah, I’d like a bakery specializing in Brêton kouign amann within walking distance of my house, but for the most part, it’s exceedingly difficult to do something here in the restaurant industry that hasn’t been done already.

Enter Tuk Tuk Real.

A cooperative venture from Circles frontman Alex Boonphaya, and his former sous and now partner, Silvestre Rincon, Tuk Tuk Real blends the chefs’ Thai and Mexican backgrounds in a fusion that’s apparently caught the attention of the Food Network. After jotting down our order, our enthusiastic server strummed her fingers in excitement: “Do you know Aaron Sanchez? He’ll be here filming next week.” 

Why? I asked.

“I guess he’s never seen anything like this in the country,” she replied.

I can’t speak to Sanchez’s travels, but as far as I know, nobody else in town has brought Thai and Mexican cuisines together on a plate. It sounds exotic, strange, but the cuisines intersect everywhere, from their pantries (lime, chiles, rice) to cooking methods (wrapping fish in banana leaves) to thriving street-food cultures.

“They have so much similarity that people aren’t aware of,” explains Boonphaya, whose core move at Tuk Tuk is swapping out the Latin herbs for Southeast Asian ones, interjecting lemongrass, basil and kaffir lime into conversations between tacos and cilantro, oregano and pork.

When it works, it works. Imagine a golden pyramid of nachos, accessorized with all the usual suspects: fresh chopped tomato, pickled jalapeños, melty cheese, a crema crisscross. Then trim the pile with ropes of braised, pulled, coconut-drenched Massaman-style lamb. Oh. Hell. Yes.

We pillaged the nachos in silence, a few blissful moments that could not be ruined. Not by my agua jamaica, which tasted strangely of garlic. Nor by Tuk Tuk’s half-baked ambiance. The South Street space feels both naked and cluttered, a queasy green shaft with a long open kitchen, shiny tables and a banner outside that barely conceals the former tenant, Paul’s Fresh Cut Idaho Fries. It makes Circles Café, the sitdown sister to Boonphaya’s original Newbold take-out operation, look like Le Bec-Fin.

We were fortunate to have our server all to ourselves. She definitely seemed a little out of her comfort zone — maybe better suited for work at Chickie’s & Pete’s — but she was a lighthouse of optimism and cheer in the depressing room. So I didn’t mind the self-congratulatory declaratives that peppered the meal. At least when she said/asked, “Isn’t that great?” of the nachos, I didn’t have to lie. 

But after that, I had to lie a lot. “OMG, these pork belly buns are amazing,” I fibbed. In truth, the meat was salty rubber, an embarrassment. The lemongrass pork sope was unpleasantly creamy and had no perceptible lemongrass flavor. The mango salad was a thoughtless jumble of chopped romaine, queso blanco and shaved mango macerated in palm sugar and fish sauce, all glooped in mango Caesar dressing more appropriate to T.G.I. Fridays. My advice: Lose everything but the mango, add bean sprouts, fresh herbs and Mexican-ize us some som tum.

But will that sell on Fifth and South, province of curly fries and bottomless hurricanes? Or does the food here, while original and genre-bending, need to be presented in an easy-to-digest package? Like the lamb mole, which should have been prepared with an unctuous slow-cooked cut, not measly lollipop chops strewn with cold carrots and cactus. 

Though nothing quite approached the glory of the nachos, there were more modest successes. The meek pork krapow tacos on housemade tortillas were tasty enough; the suadero tacos were even better. There was also a perfectly cooked plank of striped bass, all crackling skin and moist white flakes on a mound of brilliant jade basil fried rice. Too bad about its topping: a few strings of tasteless pickled cabbage looked like matted streamers stuck to Broad Street on January 2. 

Dessert: tres leches, or as the server called it, tres lachey, as in Nick. She should have called it wet sugar sponge. The bread pudding was better, but failed to deliver on the menu’s alleged spicing of cinnamon, lemongrass and chipotle.

I pushed it aside, took a last pull of garlic jamaica, and chatted a bit more with my server.

“That’s why I decided to work here, I knew nobody was doing this kind of food,” she said with a smile. 

My server was so right about the concept being spot-on, but it’s also true that suspect execution will sink a smart concept every time. If Boonphaya and Rincon don’t seriously clean up the cooking here,  she should start polishing up her resume. Maybe Aaron Sanchez is hiring?

TUK TUK REAL | 429 South St., 267-639-2396, tuktukreal.com. Mon., 5-10 p.m.; Tue.-Sun., 11 a.m.-11 p.m. Appetizers, $5-$10; entrees, $7-$18; desserts, $6-$8.