Khe Yo

For Mother's Day this year we went to a trendy, new restaurant in Tribeca called Khe Yo that specializes in Lao cuisine.  I admit, it was a bit of a selfish decision.  I've been going through an obsession with Southeast Asian cuisine, whether it is Vietnamese, Thai, or Cambodian, but I had yet to try Lao.  From the little I've read about it, the cuisine seemed to be similar to its bordering neighbor Thailand, and if fact, many of the popular Thai dishes Americans eat today are actually Thai versions of traditional dishes brought by Lao immigrants when they relocated to Northern Thailand.  For example, larb, a type of minced meat salad composed of fresh herbs and spices are eaten in both countries, while the same can be said about papaya salad.  However, although many dishes are similar, the manner in which they are executed are different and the specific ingredients used also vary.  Even though most Southeast Asian cuisines incorporate fish sauce into pretty much everything, only Laos uses Padaek, a fermented version that has a funkier, heavier aroma. According to Chef Phet Schwader, the brain and heart of Khe Yo, it's the "funk" that distinguishes the two versions.  After watching and reading all about this new hotspot, I just had to find out what the "funk" was all about.

The menu was modest,  consisting of a few rice and meat-based appetizers and a number of main dishes focusing on seafood.  Before the actual meal began, we were served sticky rice with sides of bang bang sauce and pureed eggplant.  Basically the bread and butter of Lao cuisine, sticky rice is the staple, not the jasmine rice eaten in Thailand or the short-grained rice eaten in China.  Served warm in a bamboo basket and eaten by hand (they specifically tell you to do so),  the rice had an amazing chewy texture.  The eggplant puree was slightly sweet, slightly savory, and reminded me of eggplant cooked Chinese-style.  And what is bang bang sauce?  Another ingredient unique to Lao cooking, it was probably the most potent hot sauce I have ever tasted.  A drop on the tongue was enough to send a shock through my system (I have a low to medium spice tolerance).

For starters, we decided to go with Crunchy Coconut Rice (Nam-Khao), which I heard was a must.  Balls of spicy sticky rice, slightly deep fried, were paired with spicy lime leaf sausage and fresh lettuce for wrapping.  The rice was sweet and oily in the most perfect way, while the lettuce brought the needed crispness.  This is the one dish you must order.

Next came the line caught blue-fin tuna (Laap-Pa) served with Maine uni and fish chips.  Light and refreshing, drizzled in fish sauce and topped with bean sprouts, this dish felt less traditional and reminded me of the Japanese way of preparing raw fish.  It was a bit overpriced for the size and I never really enjoyed fish chips, but I'm always a sucker for uni.

Our third appetizer was Creekstone Farms Sesame Beef Jerky (Sien-Haeng), which came with smoked chili sauce and raw radish.  Try first tasting the jerky by itself, then taste it dipped in the chili sauce, and clean your palate with the fresh radish.  The smoked chili sauce was the best part: it was fragrant with an herby, tea-like scent, but also slightly sweet and not too spicy.

For the main dish we had the whole caramelized black bass (Jiun-Pa), topped with crispy shallots and served with raw cucumbers, mint leaves and lettuce for wrapping and tamarind-peanut sauce for dipping.  The outside of the fish was crisp and sweet, but the insides remained tender and moist.  Wrapping the fish meat in lettuce soaked the oil and drizzling some of tamarind sauce provided a bit more sweetness.

Finally, the night's special, the whole roasted pig head, arrived.  Roasted until the skin turned crisp, the pig head is basically 90% fat, most of which has become liquified and then solidified into the skin.  Everything is up for grabs, from the crunchy ears to the inner jaw muscles. To eat this behemoth, carve out some of the meat and skin, add either of the two types of noodles, sprinkle some pickled vegetables, rip a leaf of lettuce, and then wrap the entire thing in rice paper wrap that you first need to soften in warm water.  If you're into hands-on eating, this is the dish to get.  However, maybe because most of the dishes were oil-heavy tonight, the pig skin was just a bit overly greasy for me and there was too little meat and too much skin/fat that I couldn't bite into.  Being the most expensive dish of the night, I would probably pass on this next time.

Overall, Khe Yo was an enjoyable learning experience.  Unlike my usual Southeast Asian restaurant choices, most of which are small, traditional, and cheap family joints, Khe Yo is modern and yuppy-based, yet still persevering the Laotian heritage.  People often think of food from these regions as simply spicy and sweet, but it's far more complex than that.  Much of the complexity comes from the rich history of immigration both within the region and with Southern China, as well as the brief French influence during the era of colonization.  Maybe that's why I've been fascinated by the food of Southeast Asia recently.  Or maybe I've been watching too much Anthony Bourdain.