How a 90-year-old ‘grumpy dragon’ taught chef David Thompson all about Thai food

The world’s worst cook I was born in Sydney in 1960. My mother was one of the world’s worst cooks. A lovely woman and smart, but she hated being a cook and that dislike showed. That I survived her cooking is a miracle. I finished a degree in English literature and my parents were abso­lutely horrified when I told them I wanted to go into a kitchen. At 22, all of a sudden, I became obsessed by food and compelled to read and eat as much as I could. I also worked in restaurants. I was an appalling cook and made so many mistakes – I was hopeless – and then it all started to come together.

Bangkok bound In 1986, I went to Bangkok on holiday. I loved the unpredictability, the irrationality of it; it was dangerous and unknowable to me. Add to that the charm and sweetness of the Thais and their food – I was enthralled. I was lucky, my parents had bought me a house when I turned 21 and I did the clever thing – I sold it and lived off that for a while. I look back and can understand why they weren’t happy I did that, but I used the money to learn. As it happens, it was an investment.

Many people find that when Thailand gets under your skin, it’s the most deliciously engaging and enticing of places. For me, it wasn’t just about the people and how pretty they are, it was the culture and, to a lesser extent, the food, because at that stage, I thought Thai food was green curry and fish cakes and all the clichés that still litter Thai restaurants around the world.

Tastes of Thailand I met Tanongsak (Yordwai, his partner) in a cheap bar in Bangkok drinking tequila shots – that was 30 years ago. He was a classical Thai dancer and came in with some friends. It was the night after my birthday, so I’ve never forgotten our anniversary.

Through Tanongsak I met an old woman who introduced me to a cuisine that is one of great depth and breadth of prov­enance, of fantastic ingredients, of cultural significance. I went to her house for six months and Tanongsak often translated for me. I’ve still got the book of notes I took when I was with her. It was my introduction to what I now know as Thai food. She was 90 and grumpy and an old dragon, but she was an heir to an ancient tradition of cooking. She had been brought up in an old palace. Those old palaces were like finishing schools for girls of a certain class who would go there to learn the finer points of finesse that women should have, according to Thai culture. I remember my surprise when she said she could smell whether a dish was too salty. Now I know what she meant. Thai food isn’t just about following recipes, it’s about chasing tastes.

Success in Sydney I went to school in Thailand to learn the Thai language and I started to read and collect old recipe books. They, along with eating and tasting and meeting people, became the basis on which I learned my craft. I not only stayed in Thailand for two years but had money left over to open a restaurant in Sydney, the Darley Street Thai, in Newtown (in 1991). When we moved the restaurant to Kings Cross, that’s when things started to kick off. It was one of the first beautifully designed restaurants I had, and one of the first that had a proper architect designing it rather than a restaurateur fitting it out. Then we opened Sailors Thai in Sydney in 1995.

London calling I moved to London in 2001 and started working with (Singaporean) hotelier Christina Ong, who owns the COMO chain. We opened Nahm in her Belgravia hotel (The Halkin). It was around the time of Cool Britannia. I loved it so much I became British – my grand­parents were British, so it was easy. I did think I’d stay there for quite some time. Then in 2010, we moved Nahm to Bangkok.