Quick hit: Spicy, energetic Thai where the action never stops.
Details: Walk-in only. Soho. ££.
Restaurant website. More on Instagram and from Michelin.
Find it on Google Maps. 58 Brewer St, W1F 9TL.
Growing up in the U.S., counter dining was essential part of life. When I was really young, my grandmother used to take me for lunch at the counter in Woolworth’s. I particularly remember the crinkle cut fries and not liking the off-brand ketchup.
My mother loved the hot dogs at the counter at Angelo’s in the basement of Thalhimers Department store. I thought they were an odd colour, but the chilli was incredible. And the ladies working the counter would shout orders into the kitchen. “Two all the way with fries,” was the most common.
In high school, my best friend and I loved the counter at Doc’s, the tiny pharmacy near our school. Their grilled cheese was so good that I would typically eat two.
At university, I frequented Walker’s Diner in Farmville, Virginia. Tuesday was fried chicken day, and people would queue down the block. I preferred Wednesday for pulled pork, and actually shaped my class schedule to ensure I could be there, on my stool, at 11:45 a.m.
Most of those places are long gone. But even now, every city and town has at least one place with a counter. Usually staffed by lovely people who care deeply about the food and drink they serve.
There’s something wonderfully social about counter dining, too. You sit down next to someone you don’t know. You might or might not wind up in a conversation. But you’ll know something about them by the time you’re finished.
I was reminded all of this when I sat down for lunch at Kiln to meet up with
, the excellent author of Bald Flavours.Like any good counter experience, a meal at Kiln is a spectator sport. Our end of the counter was nearest the DJ station — a record player and selection of records — and the drinks station, where the team paired fantastic wines with delicious delights. The action was constant and fast-moving. No one on the working side of the counter lingered long over anything. And the eavesdropping potential was strong.
Kiln does fantastic Thai and soaks up influences from across Southeast Asia. But this isn’t like AngloThai, with its Michelin star and tasting menu.
This is intense and informal. Street food with a convenient place to sit and watch the show. We opened with skewers, as though we were wandering through a market in Bangkok. The flavours as interesting and busy as the counter. Loads going on. But well balanced. Spicy.
The Kiln team helped us find a wine that would pair well with our order. A little more funky and on-trend than I might normally choose, but it was great, and lifted the whole experience.
“Tamworth & Mussels” was another highlight. Strongly spicy, as it should be, but room for the mussels to shine.
Then a refreshing salad of radish som tum. And not a moment too soon. It helped me battle back from my initial fiery encounters.



The highlight: Bavette and tongue nahi d’tok. A Thai specialist cooking site describes this as a “salad” … “made almost entirely of steak; no vegetables, just lots of fresh herbs and a spicy, tart dressing.” That’s exactly what we got, and it was absurdly good. More salads should skip the vegetables.
I had a ball chatting with Sam about food and writing while watching the action behind the counter. Sam was kind enough to share tips on food photography and his journey into writing. He’s got a fascinating perspective, and, although his day job is slowing his output at the moment, you should definitely subscribe to his newsletter, too.
Near the end of our lunch, a solo diner sat down next me, and after a few minutes, we got chatting. He’s a regular in Kiln and works nearby. He told me that it was his favourite place for lunch. And every time he goes, he meets someone interesting.
I hope that whoever took my stool after we left measured up to his expectations. I won’t assume that I did. But it was a classic counter moment. A pleasant chat that brightened my day and, I hope, his.
Places like Kiln do that. With great food, huge energy, a lot of spice, and the right vibe, they make any day better.
Thanks for reading this week’s review. I’d be grateful if you would subscribe if you haven’t already. And I’m curious where else you’ve had a great counter-dining experience. Let me know in the Comments.
As a solo diner, I too love counter dining and I was pleased to see Kiln was already in my Google Maps list. I now just need to stop making the lists and actually visit! Thanks for your reviews. Always excellent and a must-read amongst my many Substack subs.
We ate twice at Emilia in Ashburton, on the way on holiday and on the way back. Great food but enjoyed the one on the counter best. Lots of gossip with the owners, and I learned so much from watching them cook.