Thai Appeal

Two Asian eateries open with differing ambitions and results

Thai Ki
216 E. Dover St., Easton
410-690-3641. www.thai-ki.com

** (out of four stars)
Sound Check: 84 decibels; must speak with raised voice

Open: lunch Monday through Friday 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m.; dinner Monday through Thursday 5 to 9:30 p.m., Friday and Saturday 5 p.m. to 1 a.m. Closed Sundays. All major credit cards. No smoking. Street parking. Prices: lunch entrees $8.95 to $10.95, dinner entrees $10.95 to $14.95.

ASK ANDREW EVANS about his journeys to Thailand, and you'll hear stories about his eating "like a king for nothing" and encountering family-run restaurants whipped up from little more than colorful displays of seafood and produce, plus a few tables placed in front of a grill. The family would disassemble the entire operation at the end of the evening, then reassemble it again the next day.

"I was blown away by the food," says the 42-year-old Maryland chef whose overseas sojourns in the mid-1980s and early-to-mid 1990s took him to all manner of eating spots. Among his discoveries: In terms of quality, "there isn't that many degrees between the little street cart" and more upscale places in Thailand.

Memories of those superfresh meals in Southeast Asia -- he's been to Vietnam, too -- occasionally made their way onto the menu at the Inn at Easton, the romantic restaurant Evans ran with his Australian-born wife for 7 1/2 years, until the dining room closed last year after the two announced plans to divorce. (The inn continues to serve as a place to sleep.) The sad news came with something to cheer: The chef planned to open a place to show off his favorite (edible) Thai souvenirs. Like the spots Evans fell in love with overseas, Thai Ki, a play on the Asian symbol for life force or energy, would be small, intimate and serve a brief menu. Scouting locations in Easton, Evans knew he found the perfect spot when he walked into what had been part of an old gas station and noticed a peaked ceiling. "It looks like a Thai hut!" he remembers thinking.

Unveiled in February, Thai Ki is instantly likable. A smiling, polished brass Buddha presides over the open kitchen, which is no more than a yard or two from the eight tables, and the design is all about colors and materials that soothe. The dining room features gold and periwinkle walls and a bar fashioned from recycled teak. There are touches that keep the diner in mind, including keeping the restaurant open until 1 a.m. on Friday and Saturday. The service, meanwhile, runs helpful and chatty. "Have you been here before?" a waiter asks a quartet of us one night late last month. We shake our heads. "You're in for a treat!" he responds.

Treats are often, though not always, the case at one of the few sources for Thai food on the Eastern Shore. My first taste of the place, an appetizer of squid salad, sets the bar high. Nestled in a bowl of greens, the ivory ringlets of seafood are uncommonly tender and tossed with a wicked cast of characters, including red chilies and ginger that both prick and please the tongue. There's also nothing shy about the hot-and-sour crab soup, which tingles with lime juice, gets a little funky with dried shrimp and appears to contain a crustacean's worth of snowy meat. A softer, and pleasing, jolt of flavor comes by way of a plate of pickled carrots, cabbage, onions and mushrooms.

In an attempt to appeal to a broad audience, and keeping in mind local ingredients, Evans offers what he calls "benign" -- and what I call fabulous -- sweet corn fritters. Thai Ki's rendition of fish cakes, round and spongy in most Thai restaurants, also take the form of fritters. Like the corn version, they are uncommonly light and delicious. The chef's steamed pork dumplings also distinguish themselves from the pack. Instead of thin wonton skins, the wrappers are made with a yeast dough made fresh each morning. The result: fluffy, snow-white pillows hiding centers of soft ground pork. They are immensely satisfying on their own, better after a dunk in a clear lime-and-ginger sauce.

The kitchen's pad Thai, however, is no better or worse than what you could find in dozens of Washington area restaurants. Nor is the stir-fried pork -- with slippery flat noodles and showered with black pepper -- anything to gas up the car for. Unlike at the Inn at Easton, Evans is not a full-time face here, which might explain some of the lesser dishes I've encountered. But I like Thai Ki's chicken satay, which swaps thigh meat for the usual, and less flavorful, breast meat. The nubby morsels are marinated in turmeric, cumin and other enhancers before being threaded on a skewer and cooked over a small, charcoal-fueled stove of the type Evans saw in Thailand. "Spicy" turmeric beef nicely offsets heat with sweet and underscores the Thai talent for balancing flavors so that no single accent dominates. Perhaps my favorite entree is the green curry fish: soft bites of fresh pollock and tender carrots draped with a lightly creamy and fragrant coconut milk gravy.

If you're alone but don't want to feel that way, or if you simply want to be entertained, aim for a stool at the counter that extends like a peninsula from the kitchen. There are only eight perches, but they provide some delightful visuals and eavesdropping opportunities. Each dish is cooked to order right before your eyes, and a casual inquiry about where else to eat in Easton results in half a dozen unvarnished opinions from servers and cooks alike. As for the "leak" in the kitchen, not to worry; the water trickling down the stainless steel wall behind the enormous wok helps keep equipment, cooks -- and nearby diners -- cool in the small confines.

"Thai Ki is still a baby," says its owner. Evans and company have some fine-tuning to do, but even now, the chef's latest project, "a permanent version" of the Thai stalls he's so fond of, is a bundle of joy.