The new Kalaya restaurant in Fishtown is bigger, with even more Southern Thai magic

In the spring of 2018, when Chutatip “Nok” Suntaranon was still unknown to most Philadelphians, she ran into an old friend, Greg Root, at a restaurant in Queen Village with his business partners at Defined Hospitality.

“Hey, do you guys want to invest in a small Thai restaurant?” she said jokingly to Root, whose Thai-born wife, Danee, had also become Nok’s close friend. She knew Root and his partners, Al Lucas, chef Nick Kennedy, and developer Roland Kassis, already had their hands full. They’d just opened the 165-seat Suraya in late 2017. A supersize new edition of Pizzeria Beddia and Condesa were also in the works.

Still, Nok couldn’t resist: “One day I’m going to be very famous and you’ll regret it!”

“We all laughed,” Root recalls, although not because he doubted Nok. He knew from tasting her home cooking that she was talented. He even lent a hand early on — offering logistical advice and temporary front-house staffing — as Nok, her husband, Ziv Katalan, and another partner launched the original Kalaya as a 37-seat BYOB in Bella Vista.

With a stunning display of flower-shaped dumplings, profoundly spiced curries, and fiery cauldrons of tom yum crowned with majestic river prawns, Kalaya dazzled from the start with Southern Thai flavors most Philadelphians had never tasted. Nok, who named the restaurant after her mother, presented bold levels of chile heat, bracing sourness, and fermented seafood umami as an unapologetic badge of cultural identity.

No one could have predicted the acclaim that would follow for a chef who, after a two decade career as a flight attendant, went to cooking school, worked various kitchen jobs, and opened her first restaurant at age 50. She was named The Inquirer’s 2019 Chef of the Year, and Kalaya earned Esquire’s Best New Restaurant award for 2020, multiple James Beard nominations, and a featured stop on Netflix’s Philadelphia-themed Someone Feed Phil.

Nok has, indeed, become famous. But there will be no regrets for Defined Hospitality. They may have passed on opening a small Thai restaurant — but have instead opened a giant one in this soaring Fishtown partnership with Nok.

“How do you like our glow-up?” says server Lindsay Smith, one of a dozen longtime employees who made the move to Kalaya’s new 140-seat location where the staff now numbers 80.

With arching glass windows that will open in fair weather, cream-colored walls hung with modern Thai art, tropical drinks flowing from the bar, and multicolored orbs of shaved ice landing on every table for dessert, there’s a glamorous energy to the new Kalaya that befits Nok herself. She lends a glow of ebullient hospitality to the dining room, greeting guests and stripping their grilled river prawns from the shell tableside for goong phao, mixing the sweet tail meat and rich orange fat into jasmine rice with fried shallots, bitter neem flowers, and splashes of tangy-sweet nam pla waan tamarind sauce — her ever-fabulous haute couture outfits be damned.

This grand new Kalaya, which opened here in late November, even comes with a cluster of 14-foot palms that rise toward a skylight at the center of the renovated warehouse space. The timbered rafters of this century-old industrial room sometimes remind Nok of the market in her village of Yantakhao, where she’d fall asleep as a little girl behind the tubs of shrimp paste at her mother’s vending stall — a reminder of how far she’s come.

It’s not a stretch. I saw that market for myself when I followed Nok to Southern Thailand last spring as she went in search of inspirations for this next chapter. It’s a world away from West Palmer Street and Frankford Avenue. But Kalaya’s magic has always been Nok’s ability to transport the flavorful essence of her childhood to America without compromising its boisterous soul, from fiery duck laab crunchy with fried skin and roasted rice powder to the stinky sator beans that lend a camphoraceous punch to the complexity of khao yum turmeric rice salad with dried anchovies and coconut.

I worried something might be lost in the transition from the unplugged intimacy of Kalaya’s starter BYOB to the high fidelity razzle-dazzle of a Defined Hospitality production. But those fears were unfounded. Every one of the signatures from Kalaya’s South Philly debut is at least as good in Fishtown, if not more consistent, from the exquisite blue flower-shaped shaw muang chicken dumplings to the array of complex curries made from vivid spice pastes. There’s the peppery goat and lamb stew rich with collagen, toasted coconut, and curry leaf that’s a heady homage to Nok’s father. The tom yum broth offers a tart and spicy contrast of lime juice, tamarind, and galangal to the sweet seafood treasure of prawns and barramundi. A stir-fry of colossal crab meat, pu pad pong karee, is luxurious with evaporated milk, crab roe, and chili jam.

The new location has obvious benefits. There’s an expansive bar, not only accounting for a 30% boost in revenue, but also serving creative takes on ya dong whiskey shots infused with 11 Tigers herbs, a churning barrel to freeze Grolsch beer slushies, and festive Thai twists on daiquiris, negronis, coladas, and spiked tea. The service has been well-tuned and enthusiastic, save for a frosty hostess who unapologetically greeted us with news of a wait despite being on time for our reservation.

The small delay was worth it, not to mention the hassle of reserving 30 days in advance. With the extra capacity here to serve 300-plus diners a night, Kalaya 2.0 is a complete package that has also retained the essence of Nok’s passion to keep evolving — and potentially becoming Philadelphia’s most impactful restaurant since Zahav.

An expanded kitchen team under chef de cuisine Will Flemming and executive sous-chef Jonathan Rodriguez has allowed Nok to focus on menu development and quality control. And it’s clear, given the new capabilities a bigger kitchen has afforded, with a half dozen people alone dedicated to its sensational dumplings, that Nok’s full vision of Southern Thai cuisine has only just begun to bloom.

Among the most important additions has been the charcoal-fired grill, not only for those prawns, but for the chickens marinated in fish sauce and lemongrass that are roasted with their feet on and glazed with a curried coconut milk sauce whose palm sugar sweetness has been dialed back — just enough — from the similar grilled birds we ate at a roadside stand near Trang.

Fragrant green curry, a labor-intensive process Kalaya now has the resources to continuously make fresh, lavishes a bowl of tender shrimp beside glass noodles turned purple with butterfly pea leaf flowers, exuding the vibrant hues Nok covets in her food. Wok-fried chicken, steamed fish, and hand-pressed noodles are in the works.

There are tangy relishes — grilled shrimp paste with lime and garlic; and ground pork with tamarind, miso, and coconut cream — that serve as essential condiments to unify the multiplate collage of bright flavors typically served in a family-style meal. And there are other small wonders to cherish, like the crispy gui chai chive cakes that we snacked on in Bangkok’s Or Tor Kor Market. The greens must be massaged with oil and seasonings, then rest for 30 minutes before they’re carefully drained and mixed by hand into a green batter that’s steamed and then fried into crunchy squares with sweet soy dip: ”No shortcuts!” Nok says.

If left to Nok’s traditionalist tastes alone, dessert would simply be sweet sticky rice topped with buttery monthong durian, whose distinctive aroma of flower shop and petroleum is a taste I’ve finally acquired. But splashy new Kalaya also deserves a finale with drama. And Defined Hospitality pastry chef James Matty collaborated with Nok to create playful, oversize riffs on shaved ice whose bowling ball-size orbs of fluffy crystals are streaked with brilliant-colored sauces and hide creamy surprises at their cores.

Eating one is like a snowy treasure hunt as you burrow with a spoon through one side saturated with sweet Thai iced tea and tangy guava syrup to find chunks of jackfruit and then banana panna cotta at its heart. Or chocolate panna cotta inside coconut-passion fruit ice; or lime leaf cheesecake beneath a tangy drift of yuzu-Thai basil ice.

Eat them fast, or you’ll be left with a lychee-flavored puddle, making me wonder if it really needs to be 2 pounds of ice? It’s one of the few exceptions to the rule at this remarkable new edition of Kalaya: Bigger has actually turned out to be better.

4 W. Palmer St., 215-545-2535; kalayaphilly.com

Dinner Monday through Thursday, 5-10 p.m.; Friday and Saturday, until 11 p.m.; Sunday, 4-9 p.m. Weekend lunch coming soon.

Reservations on Resy open up 30 days in advance (new seats post at midnight). There are 14 seats for walk-ins at the bar.

Wheelchair accessible.

Almost the entire menu is gluten-free, except for desserts that can be modified.

Street parking only.