Seven's Xmas Pig-outs 2022
(photo above: the dessert spread at Sofitel Sukhumvit)
One of the best things about being in Bangkok between Christmas and New Year is the slew of holiday lunches, brunches, dinners, and buffets going on all over town. In the winter of 2020, while the world reeled under the boot of Covid, this old redlight rat was in search of something—anything—to be happy about. On a whim, I decided to hit as many holiday food fests as possible and report on it. A recollecting of those 2020 dinners can be found here:
Then in 2021, when our lockdown situation hadn’t changed, I was even more desperate for some kind of distraction, and so I pigged out again, and posted about it again. A rehashing of those meals can be found here:
And even though the boot was lifted from our necks this year, and life, love, and lasciviousness returned to this monger’s routine, I once again found myself longing for the luxury and delectable delights of the hotel holiday banquets.
After hitting Bardo Bistro on Sathorn Soi 10 two years in a row, I missed them this time thanks to what seems to be a miscommunication in their Facebook posts. In 2020 and 2021, I had their 4-course dinner during mid-December because they served their Xmas menu throughout the month. This year, their adverts only mentioned the 24th and 25th. I already had buffets scheduled on those days, and so I had to forego Bardo this time, and it broke my heart a little bit.
2022’s gluttony began on Christmas Eve with lunch at the Westin Grande Sukhumvit’s Seasonal Tastes—a buffet I’ve enjoyed many times, sometimes for Christmas, sometimes for Thanksgiving. They’re consistent, dependable, and damn good at filling a fancy trough with terrific fare. This year, thanks to (‘m assuming) supply chain problems/inflation/Covid, there was sadly no lobster or king crab to be found. Dungeness only, plus jumbo prawns, mussels, and raw oysters to round out the seafood (they also had a sushi station per usual—something I pass up on every visit). All the other usual stuff was there—salad, charcuterie and cheese, lamb and steak cooked to order, a bunch of Asian stuff, plus a small Indian station, turkey, ham, stuffing and all the other trimmings. I have a system for this buffet, and it goes in plates, paired with wine—1600ish baht for the food, plus 1400ish for the free flow red, white, and sparkling.
Plate 1: charcuterie, cheese, crab, prawn, and a glass of chard.
The crab was wonderful, but took 5 mins of digging and cracking to get one small bite. The prawn came whole—head and tail, and exoskeleton in between. I pulled off a head and out oozed a brown liquid that immediately turned my stomach. I replaced it with smoked salmon, which was pure delight, especially paired with the sparkling. Buffet pro tip: as soon as you sit down, order a glass of white, a glass of red, and a glass of sparkling, because sometimes half your plate pairs with white, half with red, and you should never eat the right food with the wrong wine. People will cast peculiar looks. Ignore that. They’re Philistines.
Plate 2: Caprese, rocket-n-brie salad. This plate was purely so I had something to eat while I polished off the glass of chard. I knew I’d enjoy the Caprese, but the surprise was the rocket-brie. ‘Twas incredible, and paired perfectly with both the white and the sparkling.
Plate 3: lobster bisque, lamb two ways (grilled n braised), Aussie steak, scallops, turkey, stuffing. The bisque was heavenly, scallops buttery and peppery. The bisque paired with the sparkling, scallops with the chard like notes in a chord. The turkey was moist and sumptuous, with giblet gravy that was out of this world.
But the king of the meal was the steak. Goddam, what a wonder of culinary genius.
Plate 4: four-cheese pizza, salmon pizza. The former was closer to a quiche, and the salmon was just outstanding. Ever since spending a year in Korea, I swore I’d never even try seafood-topped pizza. But the salmon slice was awesome.
Plate 5: Another helping of steak, and this time I grabbed a slice of stilton from the cheese counter to melt on top. I paired it with Cabernet, and all I can say is holy—fucking—fuckballs. Like some kind of culinary orgasm.
Plate 6: Dessert (see the accompanying photo). After all was said and done, I’d had 8 glasses of wine. The Westin is can always be depended on to deliver a plethora of palate pleasers.
On Christmas Day, I headed to Bourbon Street—arguably the most famous buffet in Bangkok. ‘Twas my first time, and my last. Don’t get me wrong, the food was good, hearty grub and tasted as near as one can get to mom’s home cookin’ in BKK. But the place was akin to a prison riot. I made a reservation for 16.00 thinking I’d miss both lunch and dinner crowds. No fucking way. The buffet queue was 10 people deep when I arrived. Single diners sit at the bar, where other people who weren’t even there for the food were engaged in the kind of drunken expat dross I so loathe. But I turned up the volume of my mp3 player and made a go of it anyway.
Plate 1: stuffing (cornbread-based, which isn’t my regional taste but still damn good), baked oysters (above average and easy-to-eat. I could’ve downed 20 without taking a breath), crab cakes (delightful), salmon Florentine (light, delicate, delicious), prime rib (tender, grilled, American style), lamb (I daresay better than the Westin’s). My one note for the folks at BS is, whatever spicy spice you added to the lamb, it can do without. The heat overpowered the flavor of the meat, and yeah I know it’s a cajun place but lamb doesn’t need chilis. I also packed on a helping of turkey (perfect even in spite being doused with cilantro) and honey-baked ham that tasted just like home.
Plate 2: everything from plate 1 repeated, except the turkey and ham. Instead, I got some calamari (fun, tangy morsels of happiness). I averted the soft shell crab and whole crawfish, due to my ongoing fear of crustaceous exoskeletons.
Plate 3: pecan pie, pumpkin pie, Georgia pecan pie (they were out of apple pie when I made the rounds). The first two pies were standard issue. The Georgia PP was something new for this old cowpoke. It didn’t blow my mind, probably because I’m not really into sweets, but I can see why it’d be a hit in the American South.
The atmosphere at BS is the opposite of joints like the Westin. It’s casual, loud, and raucous, full of dudes trying to pick up on Thai ladies, half-Thai-half-farang families, old men with their trophy wives, and so goddam many Americans I had to pretend to be Russian just so I’d be left alone. The blokes at the bar behaved the way I do when I’m drunk in the gogo. Obnoxious, handsy, lecherous, rude. One bald pudgy Londoner, who thought his Thai was better than it was, wouldn’t stop bothering a pair of Thai girls. They asked him politely to go away several times but he wouldn’t relent. Instead, he launched into an insulting parody of the ‘hallo, welcaaaaame’ one hears so often in the redlight.
And that was all she wrote for Bourbon Street. ‘Twas a bit more than half the cost of the Westin.
For the 2nd year in a row, I did the 6-course dinner at G’s German on Silom Soi 4. ‘Twas nearly identical to last year’s, and since I loved it so much then, it was a no-brainer to repeat the feat.
Course 1 was chicken saffron soup with pink peppercorns paired with a sauvignon blanc. The buttery sweetness of the broth was both punctuated and juxtaposed with the crunchy burst of the peppercorns. I tried to eat it slowly but couldn’t. I inhaled it in under a minute.
Course 2 was feta spring rolls with tzatziki, another crunchy-soft dichotomy, along with a savory/sour duet. Light and diaphanous, yet rich and heady, especially when interspersed with sips of wine.
Course 3 was smoked duck breast in raspberry vinaigrette. This is where (remembering the previous year) things got carnal. The perfection of the duck was nearly indescribable. I was instantly transported to two memories simultaneously. One was a small restaurant in Nob Hill, San Francisco. The other was a small village outside Colmar, France. In both of those joints, I had the same experience of carnal desire transcribed and conscripted (transcripted for short, copyright BKK7) into the flavor of a food. I often use the word “succulent” in these food blogs. This time, I literally sucked on my tongue after swallowing the last bite of duck, trying feebly to relive that sinful flavor. My only mistake was trying to pair it with the house red, which was a Cab, and far to overbearing. Like partnering a feather with a sledgehammer.
Course 4 was venison ragout in port sauce, truffle mash, and bacon-brussels sprouts. Normally, I pass up the chance to eat mash, mainly because it’s a belly-filler and, well, potatoes are potatoes. But G’s truffle mash isn’t your ordinary spuds. Both sweet and savory, lush and luxurious, it’s a pile of pent-up palate promiscuity on a plate. The brussels sprouts, sprinkled with fresh-cooked bacon bits, were melt-in-your-mouth monuments to munificent mastication.
But the venison…
Dear God, the venison.
Bathed in ragout sauce, with port and mushrooms, I am suddenly is a cottage on The King’s Road in Game of Thrones. All that’s missing is a sword at my side and a land to conquer. For a broken-down old bastard like me, whose adventures are mostly behind him, for a meal to take the senses on a journey without leaving Silom, there’s no sweeter treat. And thank Buddha for the cabernet, the robustness of which stood up against the venison’s rich appeal.
Dessert was a baked apple in confection sugar, cinnamon, and frosting with a glass of hot amaretto, conjuring memories of childhood winters, a warm hearth on a cold night—things that can’t be relived in Bangkok any other way. Finally, a plate of mango mousse with spekulatius biscuits appeared, and G’s owner poured me an aperitif—hazelnut schnapps. I’m already anticipating having this meal again in December, 2023.
On the 30th, I woke up with a sense of urgency to cram in another festive feast before New Year’s. A cursory Google search turned up a wine tasting at the Courtyard Marriott (1690b). I quickly made a reservation via Facebook and a few hours later found myself in the hotel’s mezzanine, where a 3-piece Thai band played soft hits of the 70s and 80s while a mix of Thais and farang went crazy with vino and finger foods. There was a charcuterie and cheese table, a pile of bbq pork ribs, pulled pork sliders, and something they called a “New York hot dog” but was really an Isaan sausage on a hard role. Also on hand, English shrimp cocktail, shrimp arancini, fried shrimp balls with crouton, smoked salmon, calamari, and chicken wings. For dessert, an array of small bites including chocolate cake, tiramisu, coconut cake, and strawberry mousse.
The wines were……not great. This is of course due to Thailand’s inane, insane 65% markup on all wine imports, guaranteeing that Thai people drink only dross, and are literally robbed of experiencing good wine. As a native Californian, I found the list to be mostly deplorable. They had a Lindeman’s, Penfold’s, and Berenger, three brands I wouldn’t wash my toilet with, plus two authentic Italian varietals—a chianti and a sangiovese. Both were quite acceptable, thanks to Italy’s strict rules about making winie. God bless the Italians and the French for taking viticulture seriously. There were also 5 wines from Monsoon Winery in Hua Hin. Surprisingly, some were quite good, namely the red blend, the cab, and the sparkling. How they’re managing to create decent wine in this tropical climate is beyond me. One pleasant discovery was Monsoon’s Shiraz—a grape that started out as a French Syrah, found it’s way to Australia, got renamed shiraz, and then got planted in the hills of Hua Hin. That’s quite a journey. It had some of the same characteristics as Aussie shiraz, but it is in fact its own varietal now. Perhaps Monsoon should rename it….Thairaz, maybe.
One final pleasure was pairing the tiramisu with an Italian sparkling wine—Trappolini Brut. In the end, I felt it was money well spent. The wines were OK. The snacks were fun. I wouldn’t do it again, but I was glad to shoehorn in one more party in 2022.
My final holiday gorge-fest was at The Sofitel Sukhumvit, and it was the best of the bunch. I hit Voila! At noon on January 1st for a food odyssey that was nothing short of extraordinary. I didn’t take many notes whilst dining. I was too overwhelmed with the experience. But I’ll attempt to provide a rundown…
In the wine cellar they placed a charcuterie table with a guy cutting fresh slices of Parma ham (plus black forest ham, chorizo, Italian saucisson, foie gras torte) , a cheese table with a dizzying plethora of fantastic flavors (chevre, Roquefort, Morbier, tomme de savoie, reblochon, comte, stilton, camembert. Then, not one but four seafood tables featuring smoked salmon, beet cured salmon, salmon gravlax, crab and endive, French oysters, scallops, mussels, shrimp cocktail, whole prawn, baked salmon with trimmings, a sushi station, plus cod cooked to order and lobster halves. Of the above list, the fresh Parma, Roquefort, foie gras, gravlax, cured salmon, cod, and lobster were the food equivalent of what I imagine Heaven to be. Time stood still whilst I reeled in the ecstasy of those magical tastes. But that was only round 1. Then I moved on to the pork roast, prime rib, truffle mash, lobster bisque, and a run at the raclette station. The pork was divine, the prime rib, salacious. I also sampled the seared steak from the sushi bar, a fantastical departure from the norm.
From there, I hit the desserts. Highlights were the Oreo cookie cheesecake, apple strudel with vanilla custard, trifle, and yule log, plus a sundae station and chocolate fountain. And to pair with everything from Parma to pastry, 2 reds (one Chilean, one French), 2 whites (French and Aussie), and 2 sparklings (French and Aussie), all fabulous, all perfect compliments to the fabulous fare.
Thus, my 2022 food foray came to a fanciful, phenomenal end. And just FYI, if these recounts gave you the urge to gorge yourself, you’ll be happy to know that both the Westin and Sofitel do buffets regularly throughout the year. They might not be as posh, but there’ll be plenty of pleasant provisions on which to pig out.
Swing by bangkokseven.com for more content, and/or follow my Twitter @BangkokSeven for daily posts from the redlight district. Here’s to a titillating 2023. Peace.