I\u2019m at Gaggan, the Michelin-starred restaurant in Bangkok, Thailand, that has made a name for itself by pushing the boat out and completely subverting preconceived notions around fine dining.<\/p>\n
Gaggan is a Michelin-starred restaurant. Photo \/ Molly Codyre<\/p>\n
Bangkok has, in recent years, established itself as a culinary stronghold on the global stage. <\/p>\n
The arrival of the Michelin guide in 2018 shone a spotlight on the city\u2019s exceptional restaurants, and they have quickly become mainstays on awards lists like World\u2019s 50 Best Restaurants. <\/p>\n
There is Thai cuisine masterfully represented through a fine dining lens; a three-Michelin-star German restaurant as good as any you\u2019d find in Munich; one of the world\u2019s few Michelin-starred market stalls; natural wine bars that feel plucked from east London; and exciting young chefs cooking modern Thai food. And then there is Gaggan.<\/p>\n
It might seem, at times, like a gimmick. But after spending well over three hours in the world of Gaggan, the restaurant seems like a unique commentary on the state of modern fine dining and a big middle finger to the circus it has become. It\u2019s also not the kind of meal that will be for everyone \u2013 but it will certainly delight those who embrace its madness. <\/p>\n
Many of the courses are served directly into your hands or without cutlery; one bite-sized snack explodes ungracefully when you endeavour to fit it in.<\/p>\n
The restaurant is led by chef Gaggan Anand. Photo \/ Molly Codyre<\/p>\n
Others arrive under the guise of gastronomical subterfuge; butter turned into a foam, scallops set in a lifelike edible shell, and, perhaps most famously, foie gras that appears glowing in the dark, shaped like a radioactive \u2018lizard brain\u2019 complete with rivulets of blood, and served under black light alongside a speech joking about how it was harvested from the monitor lizards in nearby Lumpini Park. <\/p>\n
If the concept makes you gag, I think in many ways that would delight chef and owner Gaggan Anand. It seems like that\u2019s kind of the point. That, and throwing a light on what he believes to be the ridiculous nature of our obsession with hyper-local dining.<\/p>\n
While most restaurants at this level feel formulaic, Gaggan takes the formula, rips it up and lights it on fire. It might even turn it into ash and serve it back to you as seasoning on one of the dishes. <\/p>\n
It\u2019s not meant to be comfortable. It hawks back to 90s-era molecular gastronomy when food says it\u2019s one thing and then tastes entirely like another. <\/p>\n
Many dishes are served without cutlery, while some must be eaten directly from your hands. Photo \/ Molly Codyre<\/p>\n
Gaggan himself also brings a certain 90s-era insanity to the experience; his humour is at times indiscernible, his rants impassioned, and his playlist firmly pre-2020s, with a big focus on rock. <\/p>\n
And to really hit that point home, the restaurant recently reopened post-renovation with a potentially controversial phone ban, which means diners are completely unable to document the experience. <\/p>\n
This hadn\u2019t come into place while I was there, but it was discussed as Gaggan approached a particularly snap-happy diner and proceeded to stick his own phone camera in their face with equal enthusiasm, the two phones snapping backwards and forwards as we all squirmed in our seats.<\/p>\n
Much like how 2022 film The Menu satirises fine dining obsessives, Gaggan, in many ways, seems to do that in real time. <\/p>\n
Gaggan. Photo \/ Molly Codyre<\/p>\n
Whether it\u2019s making each course as challenging to consume as possible, holding ear-splitting dance breaks between sections, or pushing diners to guess what meat has been baked under a completely impenetrable dome, many will leave the restaurant unsure if they even enjoyed themselves. <\/p>\n
That was certainly my takeaway. I sang my heart out, dripped sauce down my dress and leaned into the rollercoaster ride of it all, but I left feeling a little like, as someone whose career centres around pathologising food, perhaps I was the butt of the joke.<\/p>\n
At the end of the meal, one of the final dishes arrives as a series of dehydrated sherbet-style substances arranged impeccably in the spectre of a sunflower. <\/p>\n
It is to be eaten, Gaggan instructs us, by licking the plate. And so, 15 people who have paid $820 to be there, finish their meal doing the one thing we\u2019re all taught not to when eating. And that, I suppose, is exactly the point.<\/p>\n
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