Long Beach, Wash. – I’ll admit it: I’m drawn to this place. Fact is, I’ve enjoyed Thai food immensely ever since my first taste in Portland almost two decades ago. No, I’ve not visited Thailand, but I’ve familiarized myself enough with its cuisine to know that it’s flavorful and unfussy. And balance is all important: The four essences – hot, sour, salty and sweet – should be evident in every meal.

At a time when a majority of Americans considers Chinese food mainstream (according to the National Restaurant Association), Thai food hasn’t become as formula-oriented. One reason is that Thai cuisine is relatively unfettered by Western influences (Thailand is the sole southeast Asian country that hasn’t been colonized). And many Thai restaurants in the U.S. feature homegrown Thai chefs. So too, Thai food fans generally are anticipating something exotic when they dine out; knowing that, Thai chefs seek to accommodate them. And authentic Thai food certainly has tantalized many American palates.

Mine was rocked and rolled by Tom Yum Goong, a simultaneously hot and sour soup well-stocked with prawns and swimming with lemon grass, kaffir lime leaves and some type of Asiatic brown mushroom caps that my dining companion David, an expert fungi forager, couldn’t identify. “It looks like an Impressionist painting,” he commented. Sure enough, our yellow-orange soup was dotted with tomato wedges and sprinkled with cilantro leaves that – imagination willing – could pass for lilly pads.

Thai spicing is varied, and Long Beach Thai chef/owner Utit Phumphuangkeaw is no slouch with seasonings (when I initially wrote about Long Beach Thai – March 20 Coast Weekend – I inadvertently reversed the order of Phumphuangkeaw’s name). Sundry ingredients, such as nam pla (an anchovy-based fish sauce), chili pastes, coconut milk, dried chilies ranging from mild to incendiary and ample quantities of garlic, kick up the flavor quotient in most preparations. Phumphuangkeaw is no stranger to the “stinking rose.” Thais are said to consume more garlic per capita – about a pound per person per year – than any other people except Koreans.

We specified a three-star heat rating (one star is “mild”; four is “very hot”) for our soup, a concoction David pronounced “very refreshing.” A bowl of the same gustable potion handily cleansed my sinuses. Phumphuangkeaw proudly showed off his favored enhancer, fiery Tom Yum paste, a condiment that’s sold in jars at the front counter.

Want to sample something tropical? Try Mango Fried Rice. Blended with prawns, bits of scrambled egg, cucumber slices, tomato wedges and onions, plus hefty chunks of pineapple and mango, this rainbow-hued platter of goodness faithfully exemplified the Thai notion of exquisite culinary equilibrium.

More exotic still was Plig King Salmon, a hulking platter of varying textures – crunchy green beans and plush salmon tidbits, to name two. At first bite, we thought the serving a bit mild. Then we delved beneath the surface and discovered unrecognizable green chilies aplenty that upped the temperature but didn’t overpower the dish.

Long Beach Thai’s eight-page menu lists 125 different appetizers and entrees; many are variations on a theme, but they all make for interesting reading. Portions are hearty and preparations are gorgeous, while prices are spare. Two could eat well here for $25, tax and tip included.

Certainly, diners aren’t paying for the atmosphere. This former steak house (and before that, a Chinese noodle restaurant) with lots of windows is modestly appointed. A couple of weavings and wooden carvings decorate the wall, and three ponderous – and apparently healthy – potted banana plants guard the entrance. Don’t sit in the table adjacent to the door if you want to avoid a draft every time someone enters or leaves.

With the exception of the bland deep-fried tofu paired with peanut sauce, all six preparations we sampled were noteworthy. None were flawed with the inconsistencies – food that’s too hot or too mild, for example – we heard a couple of previous diners comment about. Servers are well-acquainted with the menu, but progress bogs down when the eatery gets busy.

Whether Phumphuangkeaw’s repasts can go fork-to-mouth against meals served in Bangkok (where he worked as a chef), I can’t say. There are no whole fish, roasted duck or coconut milk-based seafood stews on the menu, three dishes you’d likely find in Thailand, where dining out is popular.

But then Thais are renowned for their feisty independent-minded sprit and, in the United States at least, their entrepreneurial know-how. Phumphuangkeaw seems no exception to these admirable national qualities. After all, opening a Thai restaurant on the Long Beach Peninsula in the “off” season is about as entrepreneurial as a person can get.

Contact the Mouth at The Daily Astorian, P.O. Box 210, Astoria, OR 97103 or phone (503) 325-3211 or e-mail mouth@dailyastorian.com

Long Beach Thai CuisineTwo and a half stars (out of four)

1003 Pacific Ave., Long Beach, Wash.; (360) 642-2557

Hours: 11 a.m. to 9 p.m. daily

Prices: Inexpensive. Appetizers start at $4.25; entrees top out at $13, but most cost $7 to $9.

Superior selections: Tom Yum Goong (soup), Mango Fried Rice, Plig King Salmon, Eggplant Delight, Basil Vegetables

Atmosphere: Wonderful aromas of Thai food (and three banana plants) spice up an otherwise commonplace dining area.

Service: Friendly and knowledgeable; slow when busy

Kid-friendly: The setting is fine for children, but nothing on the menu compares to pizza or corn dogs. Kids will like the sweet Thai tea.

Vegetarian options: This region’s best selection – 21 choices

Alcohol: None available

Access: The entrance and the restroom are accessible to wheelchairs.

Credit cards: Discover, Mastercard, Visa

Personal checks: Accepted

Reservations: Not necessary

Smoking: Not permitted

Pacific Rim eating utensilsAmericans eat with forks, spoons and knives, and many of us assume everybody on the eastern side of the Pacific Rim uses chopsticks. That’s not necessarily so. The Chinese, of course, invented chopsticks and still use them, along with spoons. Ditto for the Japanese and the Koreans. Cambodians and Laotians, on the other hand, rely on fingers and spoons. Indonesians and Malaysians use fingers, spoons and forks. In Vietnam, fingers and chopsticks are popular. Thai diners reserve chopsticks for noodles and otherwise use spoons and fingers to transfer food from plate to mouth.