COCONUTS CRITIC’S TABLE – If, in a fit of heroic boredom, you decided to rank the names of every one of Bangkok’s Western restaurants in ascending order of merit – note, I’m talking just about the names here – you might place the sublimely dull “Water Library” at the bottom, the supremely enticing “Salt” at the top. Little Beast, a newish gastropub in the heart of Thong Lor, would find itself mid-table: memorable, but not, as with Salt, mouthwatering. The moniker appears to refer to an angry-looking bulldog character that serves as the joint’s mascot-cum-guarddog. It might equally allude to the food: Small plates, almost all of which involve meat. It’s a place to feast on beast.
If you were to repeat the ranking, this time considering the cuisine, Little Beast would certainly place in the top half of the table. Alas, in a city that hosts enough mediocre Western restaurants to fill a guidebook entitled “Bore d’oeuvres: 500 restaurants you’ll have forgotten five minutes after you leave”, that isn’t saying much. Little Beast is fine. It’s reasonable. It’s pretty damn okay. But Lord, how I’m sick of saying that.
This is a gastropub, a genre of venue Bangkok is not exactly heaving with, so it’s welcome in that respect. In the heart of Thonglor’s Japanese zone, it’s particularly incongruous. Inside you’ll find a tastefully assembled chamber of leather banquettes and wood panelling. It’s gloomy – less a place to be seen in, more to be peered at through the darkness. If you, like me, have a vampiric aversion to light, you will approve.
The menu is short, and hooray for that. Compact menus are increasingly becoming the rule, rather than the exception in Bangkok. That is a joyous thing. Little Beast, like so many other places these days, dispenses with hopelessly old-fashioned terms like “appetizers” and “entrees”. Here, you get no-nonsense single-syllable descriptors. “Bites” and “Plates”. Oh and – getting a bit fancy here – “Charcuterie”.
The presentation is inconsistent – here superb, there pedestrian. You almost suspect half the dishes are being plated by a Michelin-quality chef, the rest ladled out by a bored school dinner lady. A foie gras terrine (THB280), for example, was beautifully arranged, the cuboid croutons piled like girders next to a perfect cylinder of goose liver, with swirls of dressing and apricot preserve. That was followed by snap peas with chicken skin salad (THB220), a glistening mound of sloppy green stuff with shards of crispy skin pointing out of it. Not so pretty.
And once in the mouth? The foie gras almost worked, but the terrine was hard, with the glacial texture of butter fresh from the fridge. The snap pea salad was drenched in a greasy ginger and wholegrain mustard dressing, which lingered on the lips like Vaseline. The black truffle and pork cheek penne (THB350) came in a red wine, cream and truffle oil sauce. Tasty, yes, but stodgy. You are glad the portions of these dishes are small, because this is heavy food – the kind that sinks swimmers and bursts shirt buttons.
Better was a tuna tartare with soy caviar and ginger mayonnaise (THB180). The thick sweep of mayo was shaped like a speech bubble emanating from the crimson fish, which was served at room temperature. What might it be saying, we wondered? “You’d like me even more if I was chilled.” A seared duck breast (THB420) was excellent, with succulent meat and crunchy skin. It was wisely accompanied by lighter fare: vanilla-infused apple, slices of smoky bacon, arugula leaves. This was more like it.
The desserts (all THB150) were pleasant, though not transcendental. Ice cream sandwiches come in three varieties. The best is the peanut, which came off like the bastard child of a Snickers bar and a Maxibon. Who doesn’t dream of that? The special was also in the ice-cream bar vein – a dark-chocolate Mars-like creation presented as if it had left a slug trail of honey and rock salt around the plate’s circumference.
Little Beast is as much a boozer as an eaterie, and discerning drinkers will find much to pique their interest – selections of quality tequila, vodka and gin for example. The cocktails, devised by the intriguingly named “Dhasan Golffy Prabhananda”, were, at THB280, a little stingy on the alcohol. This was noted by our palates, then confirmed by our brains, which remained in distressingly perfect working order after two. It never goes amiss to serve strong cocktails. What you lose in direct profit, you gain in patrons with hazily fond memories.
Service was excellent, with dishes appearing on the table quickly and in rapid succession. That heaviness, though. Little Beast is not alone in Bangkok restaurants’ perplexing tendency to serve Western food heavy. In a cold European winter, give me stodge. In the perennial blaze of the Thai sun, something lighter wouldn’t go amiss. Not many places get this yet. Those that do – Quince, for example – stand head-and shoulders above the rest. Thus far, Little Beast is not yet a big dog. Perhaps, with some nourishment, it could grow into something more fearsome.
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Coconuts Critic’s Table reviews are written based on unannounced visits by our writers and paid for by Coconuts Bangkok. No freebies here.
Follow Dan Waites on Twitter: @DanWaites
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