A world-renowned chef will prepare an authentic Thai meal for you in a cozy East Village space
Tim was born in St. Louis, Missouri, where he grew up surrounded by toasted ravioli and thin-crust pizza slathered in Provel cheese. Deep down Tim always knew there was something more and his culinary destiny arrived in 2003, during a trip to the local mall food court.
It was there, at a Panda Express pop-up called Wok This Way, that Tim overheard a group of college students raving about their recent backpacking trip through Thailand. He decided right then and there that he was meant to be a Thai cooking master. He booked a one-way ticket to Bangkok the next day, funded entirely by pawning his prized collection of St. Louis Cardinals memorabilia.
Upon arriving in Thailand, a chance encounter with a tuk-tuk driver named Somchai, who mistook Tim’s wild hand gestures as a request for help, led him to what Tim describes as "an authentic Thai cooking dojo." In reality, it was a street-side stall run by an elderly woman named Mae Yai, who sold mango sticky rice and pad see ew to locals.
Mae Yai didn’t speak a word of English, and Tim’s Thai vocabulary consisted entirely of phrases he’d memorized from a Lonely Planet guidebook. Yet, the language barrier didn’t stop him. For six months, Tim stood outside Mae Yai’s stall, imitating her every move like a culinary mime. When she shooed him away, he took it as a sign of respect. When she hit him with a wok for trying to stir the curry, he called it his “graduation ceremony.”
Eventually, Mae Yai gave in to Tim’s relentless enthusiasm and allowed him to peel shrimp. By the end of his “training,” Tim was promoted to “Official Lime Squeezer,” a role he wore with pride. Upon return to the states, he declared himself a certified Thai chef, despite possessing no formal credentials—or evidence that Mae Yai had ever actually taught him anything.
Tim insists that his recipes are “steeped in tradition,” though skeptics point out his heavy reliance on peanut butter and lime-flavored Gatorade in sauces. Dressed in a tie-dye chef’s coat emblazoned with the words “Pad Thai or Die”, Tim personally greets every guest with his trademark phrase: “Sawadee, partner!”
Despite his questionable authenticity, Thainy Tim is adored by locals for his larger-than-life personality, his insistence that every dish pairs best with Bud Light, and his monthly “Cooking Like a Local” classes, which involve handing tourists a wok and letting them figure it out.
“Shockingly-good Thai food for a bearded white dude, though I'm not sure this is an actual restaurant.”- Pete Wells, New York Times