Spice, and the amount of it tolerated, is a fairly subjective metric. It’s hard to quantify outside of the use of Scoville units — still difficult to use, as most of the population has never tried anything spicier than a jalapeño. My tolerance for spice is probably a bit above average but still far below that of the world’s most famously spice tolerant people: Cajuns, Indians, the Szechaun, and … the Thai.
Nestled in Mount Vernon’s delightfully curated downtown is a shining beacon to those seeking spice — and perhaps the Eye of Sauron to those who aren’t. Rachawadee, at 410 W. Gates Road, is an intensely charming restaurant.
The space has the feel of a city center sandwich shop, very long and very narrow. The row of barstools along the counter, overlooking the open kitchen, comprise all of the available seating. One does not come here with plans to dine in. Rather, you come with a takeout order and dine in only when a rare opening in the seats presents itself.
It’s 5 p.m. and positively abuzz with customers ducking in from the cold to take to-go orders home. Rachawadee is only open for lunch and dinner service, with a gap in the middle. It’s just reopened and the kitchen is already cranking out dishes. The woks are shrouded by steam and the flaring of the high-BTU gas burners as cooking oils and aerosolized volatiles burn off.
There’s very little drama. Customers stand in a line behind the seated few, place their orders and then step aside or outside to wait. The question that matters, asked after every dish ordered, is “How spicy?”
Spice is a funny thing. It’s literally a defensive mechanism, evolved from thousands and thousands of years of predation on plants by less-than-ideal seed propagators. Much like alcohol, at some point, somebody figured out that this weapon is actually fun to intentionally consume.
As its use in cooking spread across Asia, Africa and the Indian subcontinent, spicy food did not see as much adoption in Europe. Even today, we still see the remnants of that. A popular trend on TikTok in the U.K. is for Brits to post their Chinese takeaway favorites — and an even more popular trend is for Americans to mock those videos relentlessly for the inclusion of mushy peas, the omission of color and the lack of spice. Even so, the average American restaurant-goer has never experienced traditional spice without training wheels.
Rachawadee, in a delightful move, does not attempt to dissuade you from the higher spice levels. I requested my phad see ew ($17.95) very spicy – I was told they went from zero to four, but could go above that if I chose. Not being a complete moron, I told them to keep it at a four.
But that willingness to go hotter should endear this restaurant to anybody with a palate for heat. A common method of getting that level of spice is to ask for “Thai spicy” — a not-so-subtle acknowledgment that the average kitchen is pulling their punches.
While we dined on that aforementioned flaming hot phad see ew, with breaks in the heat courtesy of the zero spice garlic sauce chicken ($16.95) and medium spicy ka-prao over rice with a fried egg ($15.95 + $2.50), Austin Berthelote, manning the wok, regaled us with tales of chili-heads who doubted Rachawadee’s ability to bring the heat.
The secret, he says, is in their picking of hundreds of pounds of fresh peppers from carefully selected farms in Eastern Washington. Once picked, the peppers are processed and frozen to ensure the flavor isn’t lost or diluted with time. Accenting the flavor, not overpowering it, is the goal.
Rachawadee does this effortlessly. Dunking my artfully prepared goong ka brok into some chili sauce — shrimp and chicken, mixed with spices and herbs and wrapped in a wonton skin with a shrimp tail for a handle ($11.95) — is a savory-sweet break from the heat of the phad see ew. But this break is short-lived, and I can’t help but go back for another bite of the velvety noodles and finely chopped steak.
The heat returns, but I push through. They have something for everyone, but for those of us wanting to push our palates to the ragged edge of tolerance, there’s nothing better.
Rachawadee Thai Cafe is open 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. and 5–8 p.m. Tuesday–Friday, and Saturday 12–5 p.m. Info: rachawadeethai.com.
