20 Nov 30th–Dec 6th, 2023 phoenixnewtimes.com phoenix new Times | NEWS | FEATURE | FOOD & DRINK | ARTS & CULTURE | MUSIC | CONCERTS | CANNABIS | can do is ask Thunder if it gets frustrating when people complain. “Well, ‘cause it’s to-go, we don’t see anyone, so...” he says, trailing off. Good point. The Wanwaan crew is a sociable bunch, but I guess not meeting your customers has its upsides. That said, they’re making the effort. They offer some dishes on a mild/medium/ spicy scale. And whenever appropriate to the dish, Wanwaan thoughtfully offers supplemental heat on the side, whether in the form of powdered chiles, Thai sriracha or chile-spiked fish sauce for you to apply as you please. That pad see ew is sweet and mellow if you leave it alone, and another experience entirely if you splash it with a bit of jalapeno-infused vinegar. Occasionally, though, propriety trumps preference. With some dishes, you get what you get and you don’t pitch a fit. Don’t you dare let that scare you away from the kao gai zaab, crispy fried chicken dressed with fish sauce, lime juice, shallots, onions and no small amount of chiles. Between the breaded crust, raw shallots and a sprinkling of toasted rice powder, there’s some beautiful chaos going on in its textures, but the flavors are equally brash. They need to have some heat or it just doesn’t work. Meanwhile, the first time I tried Wanwaan’s tom yum soup was nearly my last. It’s exactly what you expect — plump shrimp and mushrooms with stalks of lemongrass and thick slabs of galangal infusing its spicy sour broth. But when I cracked open the lid and took my first fateful sip, I was consumed by an intense rush of such exquisite, clarifying chile fire that I think I briefly left this mortal plane, returning only so I could drink a little more. I cried my way to the bottom of the one-quart deli container and then cursed the fact that I had none left. Subsequent orders were neither so incendiary nor so transcendental. Whoever made that first batch is officially my favorite chef at Wanwaan. But it’s a great soup however spicy, and it’s probably for the best that my beloved firey first taste was a fringe batch. Killing off your clientele is bad for business. New interest, new venues Wanwaan might not have seen the light of day five or six years ago. It took both an evolution in the city’s understanding of Thai food and a fresh wave of restaurant resources to make it happen. Traditionally, a restaurant’s low-budget path to brick and mortar is the venerable food truck, but even the most dilapidated roach coach can cost a small fortune. The pandemic brought a surge of fully equipped ghost kitchens to the Valley, and now that the outsized demand for food delivery has abated, they’re finding a second life as incu- bators for aspiring restaurateurs. CloudKitchens’ Highland Food Hub is part of what made Wanwaan possible. “It’s a great location in central Phoenix,” Goong says. “They make it so easy. All of the equipment is there, the permitting is done, the robot gets the food...” The what do the what, now? Not a joke, apparently. When the kitchen completes an order, they signal a robot that fetches it and shuttles it to a pickup cubby. Beats having to fix the leaky radiator on your food truck. Takeout and delivery is a great niche for Wanwaan, but it’s only a start. The crew has their eyes on bigger things. Once every week or two, they close up shop to participate in some kind of event or pop-up, an opportu- nity both to stretch their wings and to intro- duce less familiar dishes to the public. One recent evening in downtown Phoenix, I strolled up to Wanwaan’s stand at an event called Dusk Night Market and sauntered off with a plateful of juicy pork dumplings and a bowl brimming with khao soi — a rich and smoldering coconut curry noodle dish with pickled mustard greens and a whole, fall-apart chicken leg. I wish I could get that khao soi on the regular. But that’s exactly why now is such an exciting time to be following Thai cuisine in Phoenix. The city’s tastes and interests have matured, and the folks who can make great food are realizing there’s a market for it. The Wanwaan crew saw an opening and said “Hey, I can do that!” “There’s enough room for new people to bring in new business,” Goong says. “Right now, my friend’s building another Thai restaurant, and I’m so happy. I’m like, yeah, bring it, more. People need more of this.” With a little luck, somebody else is reading and thinking, “Hey, I can do that!” right now. Wanwaan 720 W. Highland Ave. (inside Highland Food Hub) instagram.com/wanwaan.az 3 p.m. to midnight Wednesday through Sunday Small plates $6-$15; Noodles, curries and rice dishes $16-$18; Dessert $8. Wanwaan’s dishes travel surprisingly well, and delicately balanced dishes like the pla goong arrive tasting bright and fresh. (Photo by Dominic Armato) Pickup and Pop-Ups from p 19
