May 5, 2008
By: Ken Alan
kalan@aroundphilly.com
I used to wonder why chefs are so often perceived as persnickety in the kitchen, you know, the snarling Hollywood stereotype of the accented bad man wearing the toque and chef’s whites.
Sadly, the Food Network’s Gordon Ramsay isn’t helping to quell that image as he turns some poor wannabe into a quivering whelp on his show, Hell’s Kitchen.
My understanding of a chef’s woes finally emerged the first time I tried to cook and serve Thanksgiving dinner for a group of twenty or so. Suddenly, the soft-spoken B-type in me fled under a couch, as I huffed at my guests.
“Are you painting a still life of those creamed peas or can you pass them to your left?” I once barked at my cousin Michelle. Cooking for large groups--it’s really tough stuff.
Actually, it’s the serving factor that’s the hard part; firing up and then plating dishes gets rhythmic after awhile. It’s those fussy patrons wanting this and demanding that who tend to gum up the food works.
This is the mindset I kept as I went into Mayuree Café for a recent meal.
The Mayuree Café, a quirky Thai BYOB that’s located along Route 30 in Devon, attached (oddly enough) to the Devon Bowling Lanes, has a rep for having inspired cuisine, though the service, as one fan has told me, is straight from “the Soup Nazi School of Hospitality.”
Indeed, the black-typed pieces of notepaper taped on a wall by the entrance prepares you from the get-go: Two bites and you’ve bought it! - and – Service is at the discretion of the management.
Gulp…
The wife-and-husband duo who have run Mayuree for the last two years in Devon and prior, for almost a decade more in a teeny storefront in Wayne, play cook and bottle washer in this odd yet pleasant strip of restaurant.
One dining room has an expansive garage window with a sealed take-out window left over from a former life; the smaller room to the right is reached by going down a long, narrow hallway. Each is done up in Pepto-pink painted walls, fake potted orchids, white-over-salmon-colored table cloths and royal blue accents. I’ve often noted no salt or pepper, though the tables each hold a live carnation in a bud vase.
The menu bills itself as international food, and a few items do cross Thailand and into Europe, with escargot, Caesar salad and filet mignon being three examples. For the most part though, what the couple produces is Thai cookery--more like hearty homemade fare. Nothing on the menu reaches over $20, surprising micro-economics for the otherwise hoity-toity Main Line.
Tom Yum (shrimp) soup, the ubiquitous standard at all Thai restaurants is hot, sour and zippy with good spice threading through its glistening lemongrass. Mango spring roll is crisp and sweet, stuffed with rice, fruit and a dash of coconut milk.
I have had a very good roast duckling here before and also, a fine herb- and mustard-flecked rack of lamb. My favorite dishes though are the gang garee gai (sautéed chicken in yellow curry with toasted coconut and potatoes) and their filet mignon. Some order their meat with red wine and bacon; others with hot green curry and string beans. I like mine with creamy red curry and pine nuts.
The fear factor I mention about Mayuree Café surely gets perpetuated online. Pull up local food blog boards and you’ll see the electronic snarkiness ensue: “The owners…comes off as gruff, especially when they are busy.” “French waiters might be considered polite in comparison.” And “very indifferent and almost rude.”
Yet for every grousing comment, the postings also praise the incredible sauces and exceptional value found there. Me, I have yet to meet the wife (she’s always been in the kitchen) and hubby seems reserved, paced, and working like hell when his rooms are full. Sure, meals can be uneven, but I’m dining, not cooking and serving, so I’m always as cool as a cucumber at Mayuree.
Just know that you need to be Zen-calm and patient when dining there during latter weeknights and prime time on the weekends. Lunches though are usually very tame.
A couple pluses about Mayuree are they accept credit cards and have ample parking.
I reached for the door handle. Tender chicken with amazingly pungent yellow curry over rice, all slurped up with a spoon, is worth most any level of derision, right?
No rejection from my host or recrimination of any kind occurred. Actually, he just smiled and politely seated me once again.
