A voice from the plate: Chef Pam and the silent revolution of Thai cuisine
EBRU ERKE
At the most thrilling awards night of the World's 50 Best Restaurants, the spotlight lands not just on a chef, but on a story woven with culture, gender and memory. Chef Pam’s voice speaks for far more than just herself
At the most eagerly anticipated awards ceremony in the restaurant world, the stage lights suddenly fall on a chef from Thailand — one who weaves past and present into one. In her eyes lies not only success, but the burden of a culture, a gender and a history she represents. The first words that come from the mouth of Chef Pichaya “Pam” Soontornyanakij on stage go far beyond the personal: “This award is not only for me, but for the unheard women of Thai cuisine…” she says. Her words were not a thank you, but a call. Because Pam is not only someone who cooks well — she possesses a mind that considers where the food comes from, who passed it down and who it will reach in the future. The Women for Women scholarship fund she established is the strongest sign that this award is a seed planted to create women who owe nothing to anyone.
Chef Pichaya “Pam” Soontornyanakij being selected this year as The World’s Best Female Chef became one of the most striking indicators of Thailand’s unstoppable rise in fine dining. As is well known, the world’s leading gastronomic centers spoke with a European accent for many years. French culinary techniques, Italian seasonality, Scandinavian minimalism — they all turned into methodologies. But at the same time, Asian cuisines were undergoing a silent transformation. This transformation was not cooking over the flame under a wok, but simmering within identity, historical layers and global modernism. The transformation that began with steam rising from street food in countries like Thailand, Vietnam and Korea has now moved into chef’s kitchens — and this signals a gastronomic stance.
Chef Pam is one of the strongest examples that this transformation will no longer remain silent. She defines Thai cuisine not merely as an exotic and aromatic one, but as a cultural field with structural depth, blended with technique and legible in historical context. Her menu at Potong is both an aesthetic and conceptual rewriting of traditional Thai dishes. She recodes local flavors — not by making them resemble the West, but by highlighting the layers of meaning the West has forgotten to see. Chef Pam’s kitchen proclaims that Asia is no longer imitating — it is writing new recipes with its own identity. This isn’t so much the beginning of a new era as it is the unveiling of a labor long made invisible. The fact that six restaurants from the country have entered the World’s 50 Best list is a clear example of this.
Chef Pam’s restaurant Potong ranked 13th in this year’s list of the world’s best restaurants. Born in a 120-year-old Chinese pharmacy owned by her family in the heart of Bangkok’s Chinatown, Potong today is more than just a restaurant; each floor is a different layer of the past. From the kombuchas that greet you at the entrance to the five-sense menu on the upper floors, every detail is woven with references from Pam’s own family, cultural roots and contemporary Thai cuisine. But this is not merely a ‘fine dining’ experience. This is an attempt to reproduce memory as flavor. The fact that Potong takes its name from the Thai word meaning “transformation” is no coincidence. Here, Chef Pam is not only transforming recipes, but also time, space and the senses.
The Pad Thai served at Chef Pam’s Potong is perhaps one of the dishes that best expresses her kitchen ideology. One of Thailand’s most globally recognized dishes, Pad Thai is often perceived as a touristy, quick street food. But when Pam included it on her menu, she subjected it to a “rereading.” Because in her kitchen, to represent a dish means not only to cook it beautifully, but to present the memory, political significance and cultural weight it carries. Her minimalist interpretation of Pad Thai at Potong is not merely done through a “fine dining” aesthetic; it is also a reconstruction that questions its past. That’s because Pad Thai was developed in the 1930s as part of a nationalist project in Thailand — it was a dish pushed onto the streets to build national identity. In this sense, it was not just a street classic, but a government policy. Pam, without forgetting this past but without being bound by it, is constructing a new Thai identity.
But if Potong’s narrative were to be built around a single dish, it would undoubtedly be duck. The dish titled “Signature Aged Duck” on the menu is not just a cornerstone of the restaurant, but also of Pam’s culinary journey. What makes it so special is not just the ingredients or technique, but the idea of time behind it. Chef Pam first subjects the duck to a dry-aging process. This process softens the fibers of the meat, intensifies its natural umami and thanks to the naturally dried layer formed on the outer surface, creates extraordinary depth in both aroma and texture. The presentation of the dish is extremely simple yet ritualistic. This duck dish is also an expression of Chef Pam’s deep connection to her roots. As a third-generation member of a Chinese-Thai family, she often mentions how duck held a central place in her family celebrations during her childhood.
In Chef Pam’s kitchen, nothing traditional remains exactly as it is. Yet nothing is entirely abandoned either. This delicate balance allows Potong to be not just a place that serves great food, but a bridge between past and future, a platform for cultural continuity. The language of the menu represents not only Thailand’s touristic face but also its multilayered, multilingual identity that moves between times. And perhaps this is why spending a few hours at Potong is not merely a dining experience, but more like a journey through the memory of geography. Each plate is a paragraph, each aroma a subtext. Chef Pam’s kitchen rereads, rewrites and retells the history of Thailand with its own voice.
