Asia major

There was an obvious group of repeat customers in the booth next to me at A Taste of Asia.

“I love this stuff,” said a man in shirt sleeves, chewing. He wiped his brow. “I know I ought to try something else, but I always come back to the same thing.” His buddies nodded. A few minutes later, a threesome arrived and the same scenario unfolded. Regulars. But I had no trouble eavesdropping in the sparkling restaurant, since, at high noon, only four tables were full.

I’m not sure why, because when my silver dollar fish cakes flecked with kaffir lime leaves arrived, it was clear that A Taste of Asia’s beyond-buffet concept was fresh and interesting.

The vibe is serene and minimalist, with granite-topped tables and earth tones throughout. Think sushi restaurant before the wave of hyper-coolness.

The menu is ample, but not overwhelming. The starters include sweet and savory pick-ups from Thailand and Vietnam. Main courses feature treasure duck, soft-shell crab in tamarind sauce, orange beef and other specialties from China. There are a handful of Thai curries and homemade soups like pho, coconut and Tom Yum. There is also pad thai, bun and other noodle-centric fare.

And here’s something noteworthy: The menu says A Taste of Asia uses shrimp exclusively caught off the Louisiana coast—impressive, given the flood of imports in the restaurant market.

During my first visit, we started with grilled lemongrass pork summer harvest rolls, spring rolls with fresh mint, lightly charred pork strips and thin slivers of fried egg roll skin hidden inside cool vermicelli ($4.95). The flavors and textures were a nice departure in what can be a routine dish. The Japanese golden pouches, deep-fried lipstick-sized rolls with caviar and avocado topped with eel sauce, were delectably salty and assertive ($6.95). The pounded pork on skewers, a/k/a Bangkok street satay, was slightly tough, but accompanied by thick, punchy peanut sauce ($6.95).

We worked our way through some wonderfully musty, pumpkin-hued Thai iced tea and a handful of quality sakes (including a sparkling one) while we waited for our entrees, chosen with help from our server and her boss. He had scurried over as we went back and forth on selections, politely concerned we’d end up with dishes of varying flavors.

We opted for both of that night’s specials, the honey wasabi shrimp and the fresh salmon in lemongrass ginger broth. They ended up being table favorites. The shrimp were lightly fried and coated in a floral, barely spicy glaze. And the salmon, fresh and springy as promised, was buttery and fragrant. I noticed on a later occasion this dish was featured with escolar—always a nice find.

We also tried an off-menu duck with creamy, fiery red curry served with vegetables over a bed of vermicelli. The skin-on slices of duck were toothy and flavorful and played well with the silky blend of coconut milk and curry paste. The duck arrived a good bit later than the other dishes.

We had received a caveat about the intensity of the traditional South Vietnamese catfish in a clay pot, but we ordered it anyway ($11.95). It’s prepared by simmering fillets in fish sauce, a classic brew made from salted, fermented fish. That should reveal something about the dish’s characteristic saltiness and fishiness, which is further intensified in the cooking process by black pepper, then softened somewhat by the addition of sugar. Scary reputation be damned, we really enjoyed its earthy, dingy-tasting aggressiveness.

Later, at lunch, I started with larb, which I found not as moist as some varieties, but lovely in its citrus-mint-chili simplicity ($6.95). The groovy Cantonese birdnest with combination meats featured a fist-size serving of sautéed vegetables, chicken, pork, beef and shrimp ladled in a nest of intertwined fried egg noodles so big I could have worn it as a wig ($10.95). On top, the noodles stayed crispy, but underneath, the clean brown sauce made them spongy and tender. The textures were interesting, and the flavors, simple and uncomplicated.

Nha Trang’s steak, like the curries and other Thai dishes, can be spiced mild, medium or hot. I found medium well-balanced. Nha Trang’s steak featured large hunks of peppers and onions with chewy strips of beef in a thick, mellow red sauce made of cooked-down tomato paste, sugar and spices ($9.95). The sauce was sweet and punchy, but there was too much of it.

Desserts here are simple and palate-cleansing. Ice creams include the requisite grassy green tea, coconut and the best of the three, adzuki bean, which tastes subtly like berries ($3.95 each). A scalloped oval of sponge cake, painted with just-foamy pale pink sauce and squirts of aerosol topping was light and fun ($4.95). If ever there was a dessert for a little girl, this is it.

During both my visits, I had the same efficient, timely and knowledgeable server.

So where were the crowds? Were they worn out by Sherwood’s traffic or glazed over by the restaurant’s nondescript name? My guess is if you plopped the place down in the orbit of a kindred spirit like the chain eatery P.F. Chang’s it would do bang-up business. Meanwhile, it’s worth a trip.