
LenLen
LenLen gave me my first taste of durian, a fruit I've always avoided thanks to its infamous stench, which some relate to the smell of rotting flesh. But at LenLen, the culinary skills are so high that the fruit's odor is disappeared. Mixed into a crab curry, all you smell is the curry. That allows the custardy, vanilla-adjacent flavor of the fruit to shine through, for one of the most uniquely comforting dishes in the city. It's just one of many winners on the menu, which included a Yum (salad) with the silkiest of raw salmon and just a hint of burn, and fried chicken wings that have an enticingly crackly thin skin, and a wallop of lime and spice. The quality of the food here is unexpected because LenLen presents itself as a party place, with a long bar as you enter, a poppy soundtrack (that thankfully you can talk over), and quirky decor that evokes a 1970's Thai shophouse (with tile walls, and lots of artifacts from that era, like ramen packaging presented like art). The late hours, too, seem to suggest that they want diners to come after a night of pub hopping. But that means if you dine at the usually peak time of 6pm to 7pm, you can usually get a reservation---a blessing in a city where snagging a resy at a top flight eatery can be a challenge.
LenLen gave me my first taste of durian, a fruit I've always avoided thanks to its infamous stench, which some relate to the smell of rotting flesh. But at LenLen, the culinary skills are so high that the fruit's odor is disappeared. Mixed into a crab curry, all you smell is the curry. That allows the custardy, vanilla-adjacent flavor of the fruit to shine through, for one of the most uniquely comforting dishes in the city. It's just one of many winners on the menu, which included a Yum (salad) with the silkiest of raw salmon and just a hint of burn, and fried chicken wings that have an enticingly crackly thin skin, and a wallop of lime and spice. The quality of the food here is unexpected because LenLen presents itself as a party place, with a long bar as you enter, a poppy soundtrack (that thankfully you can talk over), and quirky decor that evokes a 1970's Thai shophouse (with tile walls, and lots of artifacts from that era, like ramen packaging presented like art). The late hours, too, seem to suggest that they want diners to come after a night of pub hopping. But that means if you dine at the usually peak time of 6pm to 7pm, you can usually get a reservation---a blessing in a city where snagging a resy at a top flight eatery can be a challenge.










