Sai Fine Asian Bistro does its cuisine to a ‘T’

That the full name of the chef-owner of Sai Fine Asian Bistro — Eddy Thretipthuangsin — is a multisyllabic mouthful is an apt metaphor for the menu at his latest venture. At this month-old Southeast Asian restaurant, palate-pinging flavors carom from one dish to another.

Having masterminded such winning Asian concepts as Pakpao in Dallas and the short-lived Bite City Grill and Kin Kin Urban Thai in Fort Worth, “Eddy T” returns to his proud Asian roots — he was nurtured at the knee of parents who ran multiple Thai restaurants throughout New York City and state — at Sai Fine Asian Bistro.

There aren’t sufficient adjectives to describe the rich crimson hue that marks Sai’s interior. It’s as if I stepped into an oversized lacquered Asian vase, accented in gold and squid-ink black. The authentic Thai touches abound: sandstone-carved elephants, bamboo stalks emerging from fish mouths and cross-legged Buddha-like figures, along with gilded wall hangings that look like they belong in a mogul’s palace or at the altar of a Buddhist temple.

The menu is divided into 10 starters, nine “from the street” items, five soups and salads, and, in its most extensive outpouring, 15 “only at Sai” offerings. The menu caters to those who lust for proteins as well as vegetarians, with such tofu-augmented dishes as house and pineapple fried rice, or yakisoba, drunken and pad thai noodles.

Many longtime Eddy T fans are familiar with his audacious wedding of Southeast Asian touches with such global culinary techniques as sous-vide, or a month’s-long dry-aging of certified Angus beef. It’s a singular cooking style where aspects of Chinese cavort with Vietnamese, Japanese and Thai. And in Eddy T’s East-meets-West universe (he bristles at “Asian fusion”), you’ll find a miso Caesar salad catty-corner to orange balsamic teriyaki chicken, or another salmon spin involving miso and truffle cream sauce.

Because I am accustomed to crab being tucked into a Chinese wonton, I had to sample Sai’s innovative use of lobster in its wonton starter ($10.88 — the chef explains that the prices at Sai feature many 8s because it’s considered a lucky number in Chinese tradition and, turned on its side, represents infinity). The five pouches were a marvel of greaseless exterior frying. Yet each crackling bite yielded an interior of velvety lobster and cream cheese that was luscious and lobster-bisque-briny — all in all, a tasty tension between crunchy and creamy.

The house pad thai ($12.88) — a great pyramid of stir-fried noodles, speckled with snappy shallots, waves of bean sprouts, scallions and eggs — all but screamed street-food casual. However, its al dente textures, packing the right hum of spice-fired heat, and the sly addition of tamarind combined with roasted peanuts revealed an understated refinement.

Sai’s version of red curry chicken ($16.88) dipped the all-natural bird in a six-hour sous-vide bath and subtly used coconut milk that refused to bully the other marinade ingredients of red curry paste, bamboo shoots, Thai apple eggplant, Anaheim peppers and Thai basil. Because this red curry chicken avoided the too-common overindulgence of coconut milk, it relegated the liquid to its proper role as a creamy launching pad for some compelling herb-and-spice-ignited curry that fired up the coral-colored stew.

There may be no more felicitous local marriage of the classic Texas barbecue rib and Asian flavors than in Sai’s Thai BBQ ribs ($21.88). Their outside charred bark glistened under a cap of a garlic-cilantro and soy glaze. They were no match for my greedy fingers tugging at the succulent meat. Yeah, I’ll say it: These were the best local pork spare ribs I’ve ever devoured.

The green tea cheesecake dessert ($9.88) reflects Eddy T’s years growing up in the Big Apple and his Asian culinary DNA. Sai’s jade-green version was not nearly as potentially dense as the New York original because Eddy T emulsifies, or adds air to, all the basic ingredients. Another lightening touch: Sai substituted shards of meringue for the more traditional graham-cracker crust. Strawberries ornamented the cake and counteracted any residual sweetness, as did a bittersweet chocolate cookie.

“Sai” is Thai for “crystal-clear vision” — which explains Eddy T’s laserlike focus on Sai Fine Asian Bistro being a place where a regular might drop in on a molasses-slow Monday night for a quick plate of pad thai, and return the following Saturday with his significant other to splurge on the 48-hour braised-beef short rib.

In either instance, Eddy T will likely personally prepare his customer’s meal, and also greet him tableside, with a crystal-clear eye and a broad smile.

This story was originally published May 23, 2017 at 3:04 PM with the headline "Sai Fine Asian Bistro does its cuisine to a ‘T’."