We all live for those fleeting moments when dark alleyways yield little gems, culinary secrets that would have languished undiscovered and unappreciated. Tucked away in a quiet soi off of a buzzing road in the heart of Bangkok’s financial district, this humble bistro would appear to be one such gem—but only if you squinted really hard. Housed in the former Bistango, Villa Bangkok is a French (-inspired) restaurant serving what we now call “Mediterranean” (though “continental” is more accurate) cuisine in an Italianate structure formed out of what was once a Thai house. Got that? The empty red-walled rooms serenaded by the sounds of an electric drill from the construction site next door are the least of its worries. The menu is a veritable rundown of the Bangkok Diner’s greatest hits. Thankfully they don’t offer clams in butter served with toasted French bread, but virtually no culinary fad of the past 10 or even 20 years is left untouched, from tuna tartare spiked with pickled ginger and flecked with chopped flat-leaf parsley to roasted snow fish (Chilean sea bass to you Americans) encircled by the now ubiquitous balsamic vinegar reduction. Want some pasta? Check. A slab of meat? A manly rib-eye steak comes with your choice of potato side. There are flashes of something resembling originality: A foie gras soup seeks to capitalize on the craze for fattened duck or goose liver by blitzing it into chicken broth drizzled with cream, while the snow fish comes with a crust of basil pesto. But those flashes are balanced by miscues, not all serious. Instead of inviting a sense of anticipation and signaling the start to a posh night out, an amuse-bouche of underripe tomato slathered with a tinny crabmeat salad overwhelmed by onion only rouses faint feelings of alarm. And a crabmeat medley studded with pomelo and avocado is full of fresh ingredients, but heavy on mayonnaise, like something an amateur cook might prepare at home from a recipe in Sunset magazine or Good Housekeeping. The restaurant equivalent of the band in the hotel lobby, Villa Bangkok seeks to please everyone, coming off as dutiful and uninspired in the process. But don’t worry. The house red and white are fine, and reasonable to boot for an almost laughably generous pour. The bread (La Boulange, we suspect) is good. And those disappointed can drown their sorrows in workmanlike renditions of the crepes suzette or chocolate fondant that, like the rest of the menu, will never deviate from anything encountered before. In a land where most European food is touch-and-go at best, could the Bangkok Diner ask for more?
