Ilham Tower's new Gaia’s retraces the Langkasuka kingdom’s centuries-old currents, bridging the Malay Peninsula and Pattani, breaching Malaysian and Thai borders with flames and flair.
A salvo of small plates sets a triumphant tone in this 37th-floor space, with a terrific team marshalled by chef Shohei Matsui, propelled by binchotan charcoal and mangrove wood grilling.
Representing Malaysia, satay shimmers as hawker haute: Supple cuts of chunky charred kampung chicken, belacan-marinated for six hours, richly creamy with peanut sauce.
Thailand takes its turn with toro miang kham, topped with tremblingly tender tuna belly, lively with galangal caramel and chillies, cushioned with oba and betel leaves for two-bite wonders.
Main courses bring the burn in sultry style.
Wagyu beef ribs echo the sweet smokiness of daging salai, seasoned with kiwi, pear and ginger, paired with fermented chilli and chimichurri, while black cod bakar gleams in Gaia’s house miso, spiked with sun-dried tomatoes, woven in ginger leaves for a floral perfume.
Perak-sourced roast duck, house-aged for seven days, peaks succulently with longan, Thai basil and rustic red curry, while beautifully braised beef cheeks meet a robust, rustic massaman with meltingly mouthwatering roasted russet potatoes and lemongrass.
Need noodles? Gaia’s pad thai, wet and wok-kissed, slick as a Silom street in the monsoon, twirls prawns, young mango and tamarind in a bright, balanced embrace, while Sai Buri claypot glass noodles steam up like a Sukhumvit back-alley with hand-picked crab meat in green curry paste with eggplant.
Desserts nod to nostalgia: Pandan chiffon cake layers coconut mousse in tribute to kuih talam, lush with kitchen-stirred kaya, while sambal-laced chocolate fondant sparkles with the tang of assam boi and kaffir lime, soothed by iced cham ice cream. Kuih ketayap brims with compressed pineapple, lined with tamarind gel and coconut cream suffused with the smoulder of oven-fired wood chips.
