Five centuries before this dinner, Portuguese navigators anchored off Ayutthaya. They brought firearms, Christian missionaries—and the chili. That single introduction rewrote Thai gastronomy forever. The Portuguese also gifted egg-thread sweets (fios de ovos), which metamorphosed into Thai gold-drop desserts thong yip and thong yod. Culinary exchange, however, is rarely linear. Thailand returned the favor with spices, coconut, and techniques that enriched Portuguese outposts from Goa to Malacca.
All this history sits in the room when Chef Herlander Fernandes (Portugal) and Chef Thitid “Ton” Tassanakajohn (Thailand) collaborate at Mesa. History alone doesn’t guarantee success. The question is execution.
Petiscos set a confident tone. Herlander’s Tuna Tartare Cone is deceptively simple—chilled, hand-chopped tuna encased in a paper-thin, golden cone that shatters cleanly. It’s textural precision. Ton counters with Pad Mangosteen, a wok-tossed study in contrast: sweet-tart mangosteen segments, seafood, chili. The fruit holds its shape against violent heat. The 2015 Cartuxa from Alentejo—oak-aged, full-bodied—handles both spice and fat without retreating.
Entradas raise ambition. Herlander pours a Cozido à Portuguesa broth distilled into a dark, umami-rich elixir—over raw amberjack. The fish barely cooks, softening into silk. Fermented cabbage provides necessary lactic snap. Then Ton’s Signature King Crab Curry arrives. This is no coconut-sweetened Thai cliché. Spices frame the crab’s natural sweetness. It’s a masterclass in restraint. A magnum of Legacy Peak ‘Heritage’ Chardonnay from Ningxia—ripe stone fruit, bright acidity—cuts through the richness cleanly.
Main courses risk chaos. “Tom-Kla” reads like a hybrid fever dream: a smoky, dark cousin of Tom Yum, built with burnt coconut and dry spices. Carabineiro prawns, turbot, and clams share the bowl. Indeed, the broth achieves remarkable depth: spicy, sour, oceanic, with a burnt-wood finish. The 2023 Niepoort ‘Coche’ from Douro—textural, mineral, almost saline—is a perfect foil.
Then the collaboration’s centerpiece: Suckling Pig “Kapao”. Portuguese leitão and wok-tossed pork with holy basil. Served over arroz de forno, Portugal’s crispy oven-baked rice. The dish is violent, glorious, and utterly coherent. A 2020 Querciabella Chianti Classico—sour cherry, fine tannins, bright acidity—wrestles the fat and heat into submission.
Desserts offer relief and whimsy. Herlander’s “One of the Three Little Pigs” pairs Iberian ham with ice cream.
Ton’s fresh sago with coconut is a palate reset: cool and textured with young coconut shavings. Graham’s 10 Year Tawny Port—nutty, caramelized—bridges both.
This is not fusion as gimmick. It’s a legitimate, deeply informed conversation between two culinary traditions that first spoke 500 years ago. Finally, they’re listening to each other.
No Comments