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At Lord Jim's Seafood Grill And Bar Back in the mid-Nineties, when I was a Peace Corps volunteer in Northeastern Thailand, the luncheon buffet at Lord Jim’s was my Big Rock Candy Mountain. After months in the field, my cravings for something other than papaya salad would intensify until finally I’d take the five-hour bus ride to Bangkok, head down river for the Oriental, for three hours of gorging on lamb, smoked salmon, sushi, chocolate mousse, oysters, cherries jubilee and lobster tails. There was no food so comforting, an afternoon there was nearly as good as going all the way back home. It was with this affection in mind that, when planning my parents’ recent vacation, I arranged for the last dinner of their trip to be at Lord Jim’s. While we were in no hurry for the holiday’s conclusion, we were all looking forward to this treat-especially on those evenings at the Similan Islands when the only fish was cooked to the consistency of McDonald’s French fries!
Lord Jim’s by night is a completely different restaurant. Yes, the sushi bar is still in place, as are the stations where the filet mignons, tandoori chickens and the desserts take noontime residence, but the energy of patrons wandering as children in a candy store, the brightness of tropical light flooding through the floor-to-ceiling windows, is supplanted by mellow tones, as cool as the live jazz played by the piano/bass combo on the upper deck of the restaurant. At night, the two-tone varnished wood floor shines-one can imagine couples in black evening attire swing-dancing across its glossy surface. The Chao Phraya River takes on a whole new personality, treating patrons to views of shadowy ships, running lights glowing in the darkness. There’s an unmistakably underwater feel about Lord Jim’s, accentuated by a layered ceiling, cut in a waved pattern with halogen lights beaming like the sun through clear water. If I let my mind wander, I could feel a certain affinity with the mermaid warrior, who, in her bubbling tank, guards the foyer between the bar and dining room. For we were as submerged as she-in pure gastronomical delight. From the first notes of the giant spring rolls-grease free, exploding with fresh vegetables, our conversation descended to pre-lingual humming, umms, and yums. The edamame cappuccino, a dainty morsel of yellowtail carpaccio in creamy soybean soup and the oysters rockefeller-plump, still juicy, with just the right compliment of hollandaise and spinach, provided a delightful contrast between an interesting new dish and an old favourite.
Dinner was paced nicely by our servers, who attended our needs without hovering, but it was the main course that really made the evening. The creative menu includes such fancies as tuna steak with lentil stew; yoghurt marinated lamb with curried vegetable samosa and US strip loin with Yorkshire pudding. The creations are the result of French Chef Dominique Bugnand’s formal culinary arts study intermingled with flavours that he’s picked up in his travels, particularly in New Orleans and Asia. It goes without saying that the wine list is extensive, featuring vintages from every continent, but especially from France. My father chose one of Lord Jim’s signature dishes, the char-grilled spiced salmon tournedos. My mother opted for the equally excellent crispy-fried trout fillet, but I felt that I’d won the competition for best meal with the veal cutlet, glazed with tarragon-macadamia nut butter. Macadamia nut butter had piqued my curiosity, would it be heavy like peanut butter? How would it go with veal? The butter came from a cow; infused with the macadamias and tarragon. In a word-scrumptious; the veal so tender you could have cut it with a spoon.
As we lay back in our chairs, revelling in the afterglow of dessert-a generous plate of fresh Thai mango, crispy banana/apple marmalade dumplings with honey and coconut sorbet and complimentary, assorted chocolates. Chef Bugnand stopped by to share his cooking philosophy, saying that the secret to cooking is in the pleasure, the love of the art. “It is the most easy thing for me; just the feeling, the touch, the smell; I use all my senses.” Here was a man who obviously delighted in his work, a rare soul who gets paid to do that which he loves best. As I took the last chocolate, dark, smooth, and cool in my fingers, I inhaled its richness before savouring its flavour. Here on assignment, I was his mirror, paid to indulge my own passion, in a privileged moment where all my senses were aroused and applied; submerged in the splendour of both the atmosphere and the feast. |
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Benjarong Magazine - July 2003, Volume 6 Issue 7 |
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