Lers Ros
Oh, thank god Lers Ros was all that it was cracked up to be. I realize NYC isn’t necessarily the United States’ Thai hot bed (that would be LA, wouldn’t it?) but I still have developed standards and am always cautious when I hear raves in other cities lacking a strong Thai presence. I’m still stinging (sorry, I’m a grudge-holder) over my disappointing meal in Chicago and that was a year-and-a-half ago.
I didn’t fall for any of the exotica beyond boar, which isn’t that wild really (the wildest thing I encountered that night was someone pants halfway down, propped up on scaffolding, poised to take a dump onto the sidewalk—I didn’t really get what all the Tenderloin hubbub was about until that moment). Alligator just seems gimmicky unless you’re in New Orleans and even then you wonder if you’re just being a tourist for giving in. Frog, venison and rabbit will have to wait for another visit.
Said boar. I appreciated that they didn’t shy away from offering such a tough, cartilaginous cut of meat. Serious masticating was necessary, though it was likeable in a similar way that pigs’ ears and beef tendons are. Hit with green peppercorns, chiles and sharp strips of krachai, this was a punchy dish.
I’ve never had duck larb, but it makes sense. The poultry is in small chunks rather than a mince, which is nice because you don’t lose the contrast between the flesh and the skin. The spice level wasn’t disappointing, either.
I can never resist crispy pork with basil and chiles—it’s one of my Sripraphai standards—and these generously cut chicharrón-esque cubes did the trick.
Lers Ros * 730 Larkin St., San Francisco, CA
Follow
