Koh Samui dishes out a disaster

It was a pleasant Wednesday evening as me and my mukka, boozy Suz, set out to find some tasty tucker. Thai was the choice so we hot footed it up Princess Street to the charming basement abode of one of Manchester’s originals. Koh Samui.

The Advertising Standards Agency would uphold any claims on this one as the description ‘Pan fried crispy scallops’ (£7.45) was deceptive. This was a complete bastardisation of batter making ability. It wasn’t cooked in parts. Large parts. Crispy it most certainly was not. And bland to boot.

Family-run, this restaurant has been one of my favoured venues, with a strong record in providing for clients with a penchant for fragrant food.

The basement location isn’t a detriment to the ambience either, especially if you’re looking for a quaint and chintzy, oriental home from home. It’s light and airy thanks to the wall of windows at pavement level with fixtures and fittings to suit the mood. The sunny staff makes a difference too. It’s all charming.

Seated and skimming over the offering we wondered where to begin. Thirty-five starters could spell trouble. When it comes to food I find it tough to make my up mind.

Eyeballing the options, we agreed on a sharing strategy.

First up for demolishing was the King prawn satay (£7.45). Oh dear. I reckon Pirelli would serve up something more palatable. With the first mouthful I had to double check we hadn’t ordered chicken. Nope, the telltale tails told me it was definitely prawn. Disappointingly chewy they had the consistency of overcooked poultry. Fail. The satay sauce however was suitably scrummy with a cheeky sour cucumber dish, but alas I’m not out for a feast on condiments.

Limp, premature and soullessly soft. No, this isn’t a description of a lacklustre lover. That was my take on the equally underwhelming scallop dish. The Advertising Standards Agency would uphold any claims on this one as the description ‘Pan fried crispy scallops’ (£7.45) was deceptive. This was a complete bastardisation of batter making ability. It wasn’t cooked in parts. Large parts. Crispy it most certainly was not. And bland to boot.

Horrifyingly having hoisted up the goo, we revealed beansprouts bathing in a big bowl of grease. Yuck. At least the scallops were cooked decently.

Semi-salvation was to ensue with the final starter. No fibs with the ribs. Described as slow cooked meaty pork, marinated in red wine and brandy (£6.45), the flesh parted company with the bone upon meeting the lips. A sublime sauce and delightful dish, I made sure I got the lion’s share of this one. Yum.

Willing the main event to wow us, we waited with baited breath. In the interim Suzy tucked right into a very reasonably priced Chateauneuf Du Pape (£19.00) I was still on the blurdy Confidential challenge (click here) so lime and soda for me. Yawn.

Veggies aren't limited in Koh Samui as there’s an extensive selection but as we know quantity isn’t everything. Suz chickened out on the Jungle curry when she saw the whites of the waitress’s eyes as she told us it was ‘very hot’. Still seeking to be adventurous she went for the red pork curry with morning glory (£8.45). Right. Now when I consider the boy banter in our office - pork, pork sword, morning glory and other phrases too rude to mention - the mind wanders to question exactly what pig’s parts were going to get plated up. But this didn’t deter Suz, she had a pass out and she was fulfilling it to the max. The glory part of the dish was ‘green vegetable’ to quote the waitress. An aromatic offering with a delectable sauce.

Shame I couldn’t say the same about my roast duck with tamarind sauce (£8.45). Explained as an ‘exotic’ sauce I wouldn’t want to see Koh Samui’s efforts at a lap dancing joint. This dish was drier than a nun’s (You’ve missed a word here Helen. If I’m guessing right then I don’t think you can criticise the boys in the office. Ed). There’s crispy and there’s Sahara Desert, this was the latter. It sucked every bit of spittle from my mush and there was nowhere near enough sauce.

Super greasy, soggy noodles were simply off-putting.

The evening ended on a high note as we shared a dessert and went for the apple and cinnamon spring rolls with vanilla ice cream (£4.50). A good end to a poor meal. Sorry Suz, I’ll take you on the next review and hopefully make it up to you. She was half pissed after singlehandedly polishing off the vino anyway, so am sure she went home happy.

I wanted to enthuse about this old friend. But as with people, restaurants change. It was a far cry from food I’ve had served up on its namesake’s island. I’m not sure what’s going on with Koh Samui but hopefully they’ll get their kitchen in order and revive the things I loved about it in a past life.

Venues are rated against the best examples of their kind: fine dining against the best fine dining, cafes against the best cafes. Following on from this the scores represent: 1-5 saw your leg off and eat it, 6-9 get a DVD, 10-11 if you must, 12-13 if you’re passing,14-15 worth a trip,16-17 very good, 17-18 exceptional, 19 pure quality, 20 perfect. More than 20: Gordo gets carried away