Speaking of palatability, there's no reason why Time Kaan does not deserve an accolade.
While the two-month-old Thai restaurant may need more time to learn, endure and mature, its future is promising.
Nonetheless, before arriving at Time Kaan I had qualms about trusting a fresh-faced aspirant trying to "revive bygone recipes", let alone expecting to like the results.
Bangkok currently has several would-be saviours of age-old Thai cuisine. Only a few of them, however, are genuinely authoritative. Among the rest, some are overconfident.
I doubted Time Kaan was one of the latter but still had qualms.
From left: Deep-fried fish roe with chu-chi curry cream; The complimentary sesame biscuit.
During my dinner visit there last week, it was the subtlety of flavours, revealed in the dishes one after another as a part of a well-balanced tasting menu, that turned me into a profound admirer.
All other points were just trivial.
The name Time Kaan, or tam kan in Thai, has double meaning. Usually, I would disregard the story behind a restaurant's moniker especially when it involves wordplay.
But this one may be worth explaining.
Time Kaan can mean "king of time", as khan is a title of Central Asia ruler. Meanwhile, in Thai, the word tam means "according to" and kan is "time".
So the name that reads "according to time" aptly matches the culinary concept "Time travelling through the chronicle of Thai repast".
Set in a lovely two-storey house 200m into Sukhumvit 8, the 53-seat restaurant is the work of new-generation entrepreneurs and chefs whose years of experience include world-famous Michelin-starred restaurants.
The grilled Australian lamb cutlet with karaked sauce and betel leaf tempura.
The cuisine here is built around historically documented dishes of the Suvaṇṇabhūmi region.
A fine-dining degustation dinner is priced at 3,500 baht per person, with wine pairing available at an additional 1,700 baht.
The inaugural 14-course menu, which will run until April, revisits ancient recipes that date back as far as 1,200 years ago.
The meal kicked off with a complimentary sesame biscuit, which was so good I wished they sold them as takeaway goodies.
The first course is presented in the form of an aperitif. It features a sweet, spicy and aromatic fermented rice drink inspired by a 700-year-old manuscript of a Chinese consul to Siam. It was one of the best palate-enlivening drinks I've ever had.
Dish number two: the crispy rice noodles with crab was described as a popular food served to guests at aristocratic households in the 19th century.
Various textures and flavour depths were achieved through delicious layers of chives, red ginger jelly, deep-fried rice vermicelli, blue crab leg and fish-sauce caramel.
From left: Surat Thani oyster with tangy calamansi sauce; The charcoal-grilled river prawn with fermented Thai olive sauce.
The larb pla kraphong, or spicy salad of red sea bass, features supple and springy, sashimi-grade cubed fish meat tossed with roasted rice powder in sour and spicy dressing and served on a cha-muang leaf. The tangy leaf as well as a mamuang bao (mini mango) cracker help lend a perfect refreshing contrast to the fish.
The fourth course celebrated the deep-heat pepperiness in Thai cuisine with grilled chicken meat alongside a serving of seasoned rice topped with dried fish relish.
As the centrepiece of the course, the rice has been lightly seasoned with peppercorn emulsion which gives a lingering spiciness. The chicken acts as a scrumptious soother.
Grilled marble sand goby in mild curry came next. The fish, chosen for the recipe because of its firm meat, exhibited its delicate texture and juiciness and went deliciously with the sour curry made with northern wild tomato, cumin, galangal and lemongrass. Providing the dish with a creamy sweet balance is coconut milk-poached phak khayaeng (rice paddy herb).
All my dining companions loved the oyster course. I was satisfied with the fresh quality of the shellfish but not the fact that the delicious calamansi sauce was presented in a form of crusty ice -- the greatest enemy of my sensitive teeth.
Next up was a true delight. Deep-fried, lightly battered roe of pla chon (snakehead fish) came in a creamy pool of chu-chi curry to showcase a well-rounded combination of brininess, sweetness, fieriness and also bitterness from crunchy fruits of shatavari (rak sam sib).
The meal continued to allure through the eighth course: the black chicken consommé with bird's nest, which proved very sublime, soothing and addictive.
The main seafood course is noteworthy for its sizeable river prawn, charcoal-grilled and served with Thai olive sauce. There's also the creamy cheese-like prawn tomalley, the quintessence of the dish and which enhanced the meat superbly.
But the real highlight is the sauce, a salty sweet and tangy house-fermented concoction of fish sauce and ma-kok olive. The sauce was so addictively good that I suggested the chef serve it over ice as a drink.
The main meat course was grilled Australian lamb cutlet with karaked sauce. According to the staff, karaked is a coconut cream-based curry made with shrimp paste, turmeric and lamb juice. Complementing the succulent and flavourful lamb is a brittle betel leaf tempura.
Sweet finales are presented through a contemporary take on pla haeng taengmo; a sesame-rice cake coated in charcoal powder; and candle scented sampanni biscuit with cranberry. All of them were flawless.
Throughout the two-hour-long dinner there was a constant showcase of complements and contrasts in the dishes. Yet despite such a fanciful, detail-orientated sequence, palatability never lacked. That is what I would say is star quality.
Time Kaan is open daily for dinner. Reservations are a must.
