The other day, I came close to cancelling my plans for lunch outdoors at Thai Diner, in Nolita, on account of the forecast. That would have been a mistake, not because it didn’t rain—it poured—but because the weather actually enhanced the experience. With two friends, I sat on a tidy sidewalk platform, warmed by a heat lamp and dryly ensconced beneath a charmingly retro awning emblazoned with enticing words and images: “steak”; “coffee”; a stack of pancakes with a pat of butter.
We felt hearty and resilient, and, best of all, we had the patio to ourselves, which proved especially lucky after we ordered enough food to spill over onto another table. Silky kabocha-squash red curry, with a flaky sheet of roti for dipping, fought for space with lamb laab and sticky rice; the broad, sweet-slicked noodles of a phat see eiw (a.k.a. pad see ew), tangled with Chinese broccoli and tender short rib; and a tureen of creamy khao soi, its chicken-leg centerpiece crowned with a nest of crispy noodles. Droplets pattered heavily on the metal overhead, as soothing as a rain stick.
When I mentioned the sound effect to Ann Redding, who, with her husband, Matt Danzer, is Thai Diner’s co-chef and co-owner, she laughed. “Like being in Southeast Asia,” she said. The patio, along Kenmare Street, was always part of the plan for the corner restaurant, which opened in February, 2020. The enclosed outdoor-dining structure they built on Mott Street, designed by Redding’s sister, May, was not. Outfitted with booths, thatched-bamboo walls, enormous easy-to-open windows, and fans, it, too, is thrillingly transportive, reminiscent not only of Thailand but also of mid-century American train-car diners, which evolved from travelling lunch wagons.
The vibe may whet the appetite especially for the menu’s perfect, compact burger, served on a sesame bun with shredded iceberg and pickles—add crinkle-cut fries or don’t. I didn’t, because I’d ordered the Thai disco fries, a pile smothered in massaman curry, red onions, peanuts, and coconut cream. Some of the dishes here have been, happily, transplanted from Uncle Boons, the couple’s first, more strictly Thai restaurant, which they were forced to close last August, after failed negotiations with their landlord, and from its spinoff, Uncle Boons Sister, which is currently delivery only. I was especially glad to be reunited with the superlative phat Thai (a.k.a. pad Thai), and with a cut-crystal coupe of finely minced peanuts, dried shrimp, raw onion, and ginger, to be wrapped with toasted-coconut sauce in peppery betel leaves.
Items such as the disco fries embody the more freewheeling, experimental theme that Redding and Danzer originally planned for, partly inspired by the way that Redding’s mother, who emigrated from Thailand, adapted her cooking to the U.S. The breakfast menu includes Thai-tea-flavored babka French toast, and spectacular egg sandwiches made with roti snugly folded around a soft scramble, American cheese, Thai basil, and either sai oua—a Northern Thai-style curry-seasoned pork sausage—or avocado and bok choy.
A cynic might argue that Thai Diner is not actually a diner, a category usually associated with a neutered sort of universality. But the restaurant proves that broad accommodation need not come at the expense of surprise; it has something for everyone, especially if you don’t underestimate anyone. Just before the pandemic began, Redding was delighted to see that the opening crowd included construction workers, police officers, and local seniors, dining solo at a counter along a wall of windows opening onto the street.
Though Thai Diner currently offers limited-capacity indoor dining, that counter, for now, has been converted to sustain an increase in takeout, another art they’ve managed to master. Stuffed by the end of my rainy lunch, I opted for dessert to go, assuming that something called “monster cake”—Thai-coffee-flavored, that day—would travel well. And how: the first thing I did when I opened the cardboard box at home was laugh. Adorning the cartoonishly shaggy frosting was a pair of fondant googly eyes, with cashews for eyebrows. (Dishes $8-$25.) ♦
