Compared to its neighbors and rivals this roadside somtam shack looks pretty decent. Uncluttered, airy and with proper wooden chairs and tables (instead of the usual plastic stuff), the set up resembles a buffet spread thanks to the open kitchen and grill/roast station manned by Je Waan and another cook. And maybe that’s our biggest complaint, that like the venue the food is comfortable enough but never really thrills the palate with its middle of the road approach. The two-sided tick-box menu sees the usual yaam and tum varieties along with appetizers like Isaan sausage and deep-fried duck beak. Perhaps as a result of the blaring luk thung and mo lam tunes, the staff are enthusiastic and look like they genuinely enjoy their jobs. Portions, like the carrot somtam with salted egg, are generous: the carrots are fresh and the crispy-diced shrimps sizeable. Too bad the house special, kai ob ong (roast chicken in earthen water jar), was served cold on our last visit and with an odd-tasting, syrupy dipping sauce. Also leaning towards the sweet side, at least the somtam puu maa comes with fresh sea crab. The opiliaceae (pak waan paa) soup with puffball mushroom does have a herbal, organic aroma but lacks the expected oomph. The same can be said about the laab ped which is also a bit too safe on the spice front to make any lasting impression. For a more fiery choice, opt for tom saap varieties which come with a welcome sprinkling of deep fried shallots. The deep fried snake-head fish in nam tok sauce is perhaps the standout, fried to golden perfection and accompanied by a flavorful sauce, it’s a great dish to be eaten with sticky rice itself—a creative mix of white and black varieties. Overall, Je Wan Kai Ob Ong may not break new ground in a city where you can find a somtam place on every corner, but its location right in the thick of Rama 9 does make it a handy go-to lunch/dinner spot for nine-to-fivers and pre-RCA crowds.
