Out & About #563 | Koh Lipe + Kensington

​Sweltering days are upon us in the city, and the mercury levels are only emphasized on trips without shrubbery.

Occurring in parallel with harrowing humidity is construction work. Left and right are instances of road closures, asphalt paving, sawcutting, and more. A disposable face mask is the ideal method of combatting such detrimental changes to air quality, though it'd probably earn you a handful of questionable stares from passing onlookers.

​I had made the grueling trip downtown for a two-part eating excursion: a send-off meet-up for an aspiring globetrotter and an evening get-together with the Thai ahgase and her crew.

The lunch destination of choice was situated in Baldwin Village in Kensington Market. Koh Lipe emerged triumphant after a compilation of Insta-research results. It supposedly specialized in Southern Thai food, offering up the fiery plates within a two-story non-air-conditioned building or on a patio deck as steamy as the dishes themselves.

​I arrived around noon, and, after a bit of confusion, found my dining partner seated on the colourful first floor. Lining the walls were vivid murals of bold strokes and neo-tropical visuals. Intricate, dainty fixings such as framed wall art and wooden signs in Thai contributed a sense of uniformity. Both the interior and exterior quarters were hot, but a mild breeze somehow convinced me it was better to head outside. The hostess was very friendly, providing me with the flexibility of choosing between tables despite the oncoming lunch rush.
Our patio waitress, on the other hand, did not exhibit the same degree of cheerfulness, and instead expressed confusion when asked about the availability of chilled items on the menu. "All our dishes are served hot." She spat after several attempts of inquiry. "Nothing is served cold. Except for dessert." which, might I suggest, is pretty self-explanatory.

​​The patio area consisted of one large group table, shaded by the protruding roof of the establishment, followed by several small two- or four-seaters. These tables were less fortunate, only partially covered by the two patio umbrellas situated around them. And given the pre-existing material properties of the wooden benches, metal tables, and commercial grade steel utensils, the meal commenced on a toasty start.

​Eventually we commenced the meal with Muek Yang, otherwise known as grilled squid with a side of tamarind lime dipping sauce. The tiny morsels were bland on their own, unsurprising given its plain appearance. The cross-hatching ensured even done-ness and improved texture, but otherwise didn't differ strongly from basic home cooking. While supposedly grilled, the product bore no deviation from a basic pan-frying procedure.

For the spice-intolerant mortal that I am, I preferred tasteless over fiery any day. Even as little as a quick dip into the tamarind lime sauce was numbing; while admittedly tastier with this addition, I was perfectly fine omitting it for my overall wellbeing and throat functionality.

My standard go-to Thai dish is Khao Soi, hands down. There's just something about a glossy, creamy yellow curry, soft rice noodles, and fragrant, crunchy toppings. However, the idea of requesting a hot dish in a situation that offered (piercing) direct sunlight to three quarters of my body was rigorously unappealing. Moreover, I wasn't willing to chance my system with spice. Koh Lipe's dishes varied between three levels: Mild, Medium, Spicy, and Extra Spicy. But spice is a subjective quantifier, and I wasn't about to compare our definitions of it.

​Tom Kha, a dish - or bowl, rather - that had become familiar to me after an afternoon visit to Eat BKK, was an option devoid of the red chili pepper icon. My immediate thought was to pair the dish with Coconut Rice, for Jatujak had executed a lovely rendition of the combination. Unfortunately, the waitress confirmed its unavailability soon after order placement. Steamed Jasmine Rice seemed too plain of an option to justify its $2.95 price tag; as such, I opted to go grain-free, which wasn't a poor decision given the weather conditions.

A different waitress retrieved the item from the kitchen, which had transferred the piping bowl to a plastic black tray for portability. Nearing our table on the patio though, she discovered its radiating heat levels, expressed uncertainty towards setting it down safely, but ultimately placed it before me without scalding either of us. The bowl was, without a doubt, far steamier than I had desired on such a scorching day, especially being seated under direct sunlight.

Suprisingly enough, the ceramic bowl cooled quickly, soon enabling us to sample the lime-enhanced coconut-y soup. A tad less viscous and a tad tarter than Jatujak's version, it served as the perfect 2-in-1 solution for rehydration and refueling before proceeding with the rest of the day.

​My dining partner's Pad Kee Mao, from which i tasted a small forkful, was stronger than I could handle. How she managed to polish off the fiery rice noodles despite the heat is beyond me; even a small nibble of the spherical peppers on her plate had me coughing and gasping for water.

Washrooms were located inside the restaurant on the second floor atop a steep flight of stairs: two stalls that were so compact they questioned user comfort.

​Overall an interesting find in Baldwin Village, Koh Lipe presented decent casual offerings at a reasonable cost. That said, there were few elements of particular interest, leading the experience to be ultimately unmemorable.

We trekked a few steps east to Hattendo afterwards. A peaceful breeze welcomed us at Kekou Gelato's successor.

A Keep Spinning World Tour ad was spotted!!

​The interior of the Japanese-themed bakery was well air-conditioned. A small row of bar seating could be found by the entrance, with a fortune-telling shrine (omikuji) adjacent. Few other elements occupied the space besides the cashier area and a refrigerated display of buns. The depths of the shop has been allocated entirely to the kitchen, partially concealed from public view with a traditional linen curtain.

A few other patrons had filed into the establishment at the same time as us, resulting in the formation of a short lineup in the small space.

​Hattendo was known to serve two styles of choux cream-containing buns: Regular and Melon. Both of us opted for the latter style, one Azuki and the other Matcha.
Expecting to lay eyes on the more customary cross-hatched cookie covering, surprise was expressed at the sight of the denser almond flour alternative. It was grittier than the typical Melon Pan, and, while still delicious, not exactly my plate of carb. Ringing in at nearly five dollars after tax, it wasn't a particularly budget-friendly find either. In its defense, the matcha choux was delicious, on par with (and possibly even more fragrant than) Tsujiri.

Azuki cream was also rather unexpected, in the most positive way possible.

​Sauntering over to Kensington Market was our next order of business. The original intention was to visit Fika -  a destination I had never set foot in.
​​En route, we passed by Little Pebbles, Ding Dong Snacks, and a tea shop that had replaced Kiss the Tiramisu. Colourful ads highlighting promotions on thirst-quenching fruit tea ads drew us in, and, before we knew it, we were taking advantage of the BOGO deal on Monet Garden.

​World Tea Shop was a fairly compact place, with nothing more than a few awkwardly stationed flip chairs forming the supposed. seating area. Majority of the shop had been allocated towards an open preparation area, in which we caught sight of juicing machinery, cup sealing equipment, and a large wooden cutting board.

We scanned the menu without much recognition of the English names: Degas's night with pineapple fruit tea? Sigmund Freud Orange Juice? Picasso Milk Tea with Everything?
​Heeding the recommendation of the cashier, we performed a process of preference elimination from the top threw options. Monet Garden was most appealing with its combination of refreshing watermelon, sweet strawberry, and invigorating citrus components in green tea. Even at levels of zero percent sugar, it was more than sufficient in the sweetness department -  an exhibition of ripeness.

​Due to the high concentration of fruit chunks, the effective quantity of tea was reduced to about 50% of the cup. This, at the same time, meant increased difficulty in consumption of the fruit. An excruciatingly squeaky seal soon prompted us to rip off the covering entirely.

Instead of continuing onto Fika, we opted for a shopping detour on Queen West.

​Then, as twilight was gradually approaching, we parted ways at Bathurst to proceed with individual appointments.

I headed north to K-Town, and settled down at the nearby Starbucks - quite uncomfortably, might I add - while in wait for other members of the group.

​When one appeared, we headed to Echo, then Mapo.
Eventually, some thirty minutes after the scheduled meet-up time, the remainder of the group waltzed through the entrance. By this time, a few orders of meat had already been put in.

View the full album HERE !

​The group excitedly settled into our wooden booth. It was at this point that I learned of half the table's drinking preferences, or, I should say, lack thereof. Only one bottle of plain Jinro makgeolli had been requested thus far, as flavoured renditions and the Walmae brand were all unavailable. Our server, a young man I would later come to despise on the basis of crooked dishonesty, suggested combining the rice wine with Sprite. The catch was that this soft drink wouldn't be on the house. The cocktail was favoured over the original blend by lovers of Frappuccinos and hard liquor, but personally found to be too sugary and needlessly bubbly.
Amusing it was that the early birds were immediately asked for age identification, but the unpunctual ones were not.

Shortly afterwards, it became apparent that I was going to be deemed the evening's grill master - if I didn't want to surrender my hard-earned wages, that is. The meats were fine; it was the dining experience that wasn't.

The sly felon of a bowl-cutted server threatened to charge three dollars for each additional basket of lettuce, when only partial leaves had been provided to start. I voiced that this was unacceptable, considering that I had received unlimited refills previously without issues.
He responded with a blank stare, "It's not up to me."
"Who is it up to?" I stood my ground.
"Our owner"
"Is he here?"
"Yeah."
"Ok well then." I looked away, then back at him, a silent indication to bring a member of greater authoritative power forward.

​The problem was escalated to the management level, where an older man reluctantly brought out more the cheap green leaves for our party of six to pair with the four orders of meat. Atrocious was the very fact that customers had to <i> plead for lettuce at a Korean barbecue joint. "Oops, we changed our policy." really doesn't cut it.

​But the meal really hit rock bottom when it came to settling the bill. A ten percent discount was applied for cash transactions, so I summoned the group for their bills. The total was reduced, but was only afterwards did he return to charge us for a second bottle of makgeolli his kinder colleague had omitted.

It was only later that I discovered gratuities were inclusive of the total, which not only had he not mentioned, but gleefully applauded at our idiocy. Moreover, we hadn't been granted the ten percent discount on the makgeolli add-on. Should the receipt remain accurate, this despicable brute of a human is known by "Daniel" - a name that taints the superstar that arose from season 2 of Produce 101.
Operating on a foundation of deceit, corruption, and rock-bottom morals is outright revolting, and I'd strongly advise against Mapo unless you'd also like a stab of poor ethics. Goodbye forever.