Bangkok abounds in restaurants—and bars, for that matter—where the experience is described as “like being in someone’s living room.” At Wanakarm, it’s pretty close to being the truth. You’ll be dining in what was likely once the owner’s living room, and you might just spot some of the family members in their pajamas if you’re there late enough. This decades-old venue is quirky in yet more ways. It’s on a prime piece of property that by all rights should have been converted into something “trendy” and more expensive, yet the prices are still, while not cheap, reasonable. The parking area in front of the house in the compound is often filled with the latest wide-bodied European sedans driven by wealthy Thais and resident Japanese, but inside the place looks like not a penny has been spent on remodeling or design since the 70s. The heavy, carved teak chairs and tables amount to what must have been a big plot of rainforest; glass fronted cabinets display ceramic collectables; pink tablecloths are separated from years of spilled food by a thick layer of plastic; plastic flowers adorn tables and crowd every available ledge; the white walls are decorated with 3D carved paintings and pairs of golden peacocks adorned with colored glass; and the soundtrack, while faint, might include songs by Foreigner or Chicago. In addition to the warm waves of nostalgia it elicits, we love how the lovely grandma waitress who has been there as long as we can remember is slow but sure, always helpful and never bitches about late customers. Instead she just leaves you alone in the dining room—and goes to watch TV, we suspect—and if you want something, you just ring the bell on your table. Of course we also love the comfort food served here; it’s the kind of menu of home-style favorites that is less and less common these days. The crispy auburn-colored fried chicken is justifiably famous here, but in fact it’s one of the least interesting dishes. The taste is like the best home cooking, but with unexpectedly (and unnecessarily) pretty presentations that you would only find in the homes of the rich, from the goong chae nam plaa (raw shrimp marinated in fish sauce), which is topped with slices of bitter gourd and a vampire-stopping portion of garlic to the thick khai yat sai (stuffed ketchup omelet) to a yam makhua yaw (eggplant salad) featuring smoky eggplant, hard-boiled eggs and plenty of ground pork, shallots and sliced chili. Other standout dishes include a hiso aw suan (hotplate omelet), which has oysters and crab; a salad of deep-fried morning glory, with its tangy combination of tart mango, dried and cooked shrimp and sweet-and-spicy sauce; and, if you like beef, tom yam neua dtoon.
