COCONUTS CRITIC’S TABLE – If only Bill Heinecke, founder of The Pizza Company, had listened to Bernard Trink. For decades, Trink, a podgy New Yorker, wrote the Bangkok Post’s Nite Owl column, an infamous rundown of the seedier side to Bangkok’s nightlife. It’s hard to believe now, given the Post’s unimpeachably PC modern guise, but the newspaper used to furnish its readers with a weekly guide to boozing and prostitutes. And it was – fancy that! – extremely popular. Trink was also the paper’s food critic, until his culinary column was axed. His crime? Describing a restaurant owned by an influential Thai family as “piss poor,” or words to that effect.
In December 1990, Heinecke was busy setting up The Pizza Company after losing the Thai Pizza Hut franchise. Writing in Nite Owl, Trink had this advice for the millionaire entrepreneur: “I’ve made this point before, that separating from Pizza Hut offers The Pizza [Company] the opportunity to change pizza recipes. It would be unfair to say the Pizza Hut variety tastes like cardboard, but it isn’t good. Madrid Pizza and Narai Hotel pizza in Bangkok… are very tasty, Bill. Emulating any one of them would be to your advantage… Think about it.”
It seems Heinecke did not think about it. Or perhaps, given the roaring success of The Pizza Company, he did – as a businessman, not a gourmet. The result was the range of garish pizza-like products still making a mockery of the word “pizza” today. I’ll let Not The Nation have the last word on that.
Nite Owl is now long gone, though Trink’s advice is still pinned to the wall of Madrid, an expat bar-restaurant slap bang in the middle of the lurid sexual theme park of Patpong. Madrid has been doing its thing since ‘69. That, according to numerous scholars – okay, drunks – makes it the oldest expat bar in Bangkok. And it’s still producing pizza that wipes the floor with the efforts of The Pizza Company. In fact, most of Madrid’s American fare is of a standard that puts most younger, hipper bar-restaurants in the city to shame. Who’d have thunk it?
First, some advice on how to arrive unscathed at this bastion of exiled Americana. From Silom Road, turn onto Patpong 1 and keep left. About 100 meters down the street – which famously hosts establishments with names like “Superpussy” and a night market hawking shiny garbage to tourists – you will find Madrid’s handsome threshold. Along the way, turn down all offers related to table tennis. I cannot emphasize this enough. (However, it is customary to count every time you hear someone say the words “ping pong” and, on entering Madrid, to knock back one shot of your favored poison for every time you heard the phrase. Seriously. Everyone does this.)
Like a lot of the best bars, Madrid is something of a mish mash. In the main, it’s US-style “dive”: a long stool-lined bar facing a phalanx of handsome leather banquettes. But black metal grills add a Hispanic vibe, cemented further by the back-wall centerpiece: a painting of a bullfighter. This could be a reference to Hemingway, the American expat against whom all American expats are measured. Or it could be a reference to, um, bullfighting. Take your pick, depending on how pretentious you are. There is a musty smell in the air, too. Charitably, let’s call that “the smell of history.”
You could well come to Madrid for a booze, though don’t expect bustle – it’s more often than not empty these days. What you should expect is a staff of older Thai ladies who will call you “theerak” (“darling”) and chat with you, should you so desire. As a sign behind the bar explains: “We are nice if you are nice.” One should always be nice.
Madrid’s famed pizzas are US-style thin crust and available in three sizes. The “small” will satisfy those of modest appetites, though the hungry will want to opt for “medium”. If you can put away a “large”, seek help from a medical professional. Stomach staples work wonders, you know.
The “special,” with generous helpings of ground beef, mushroom and pepperoni, is a good bet. It may be too meaty for some, and on on my last visit the base wasn’t uniformly cooked. Still, being served a pizza of this quality in a dive in the middle of Sleazeville, BKK never ceases to amaze. The more adventurous might like to try the laap kai pizza. All the flavors of the Northeastern spicy salad are present and correct, notably the toasted rice powder, chillies and mint. If anything, it could be sourer and spicier, though not all Western palates will agree.
Pizza aside, there is barely an item on the menu that isn’t tasty. There is the tuna, bacon and cheese sandwich, which looks like a wretched morsel using cheap sliced brown bread. But the book here is far better than its cover suggests and generous portions of the fillings in the right balance make it a worthy snack. And then there’s the gumbo. I have no idea how many Bangkok restaurants serve gumbo, but it can’t be many. The mediocre Bourbon Street is one such place, and Madrid’s appropriately gutsy version of the cajun classic is better, not least because it’s properly seasoned.
The burger, meanwhile, is a serious piece of work. Not best-in-the-city serious, but a player. The patty is firm and beefy. It comes with cheesy mushrooms, smokey American-style bacon and fried onions. The fried chicken steak, meanwhile, is like heroin on a dish. A good-sized breast is accompanied by fries (frozen, alas) and a sumptuous milk gravy that you can just lose yourself in. A friend from Mississippi claimed it “could only be improved with sausage crumbles.” This sounded to my British ears like high Southern praise.
I’ve only skimmed the surface of the Madrid repertoire here, as there is far more on offer: excellent-looking breakfasts, a fine Philly cheese steak sandwich and a range of Thai dishes. Madrid is not going to win any Michelin stars. But it does go to show there’s more to Patpong than ping pong balls and prossies. And by the way Bill, if you’re listening…
–
Coconut’s Critic’s Table reviews are written based on unannounced visits by our writers and paid for by Coconuts Bangkok. No freebies here.
Follow Dan Waites on Twitter: @DanWaites
