Hyakunincho, Tokyo's most polyglot district, is only a two-minute train ride from the heart of Shinjuku, but it almost feels like leaving the country. In the 1980s, when Southeast Asian food was still a novelty in other parts of town, this was where we came to forage, lured by the exotic perfume of lemongrass, galangal and durian, not to mention the heady whiff of late-night sleaze.
Things have changed in the old neighborhood. It is visibly smarter, and these days the aromas that assail the nostrils are predominantly Korean and Chinese. Despite the inroads made by the kimchi joints, there are still a couple of places that continue to fly the Thai flag, including an old favorite of ours, Khun Mae.
It too has gone through changes. No longer is it shoehorned into that tiny, fuggy front room with its cheerful folksy facade and seats wedged in so tightly together you could hardly breathe. The new premises, some 50 meters further down the same side street, are spacious and sparkling clean, with ample gaps between tables. The staff are as welcoming as ever, and just as overworked. Gaggles of hungry customers, many of them Thais (a good sign, of course), hover outside the front door on busy evenings, waiting for tables to free up.