You will not find Pad Thai here. No Thai Green Curry either. At TOA 66, Mumbai's first all-vegetarian Thai restaurant, co-founder Ishaa Jogani has made it her mission to unlearn everything you think you know about Thai food. So, when a diner innocently asked if the tofu could be subbed with paneer, the response was stern: Absolutely not! That's how this place rolls. Here, tofu stays tofu, and the flavours don't pander.
Thai food comes with a reputation for being a meat lover's dream. Blame it on those Khao San Road escapades where skewered entrails and deep-fried insects are served with buckets of chilled beer to bleary-eyed backpackers who come home and swear they have done Thailand. The perception has stuck that Thai = meat. But it's a half-truth at best. Here’s the secret: there exists an entire community thriving, vibrant and deeply-rooted that has grown on vegetarian food. From Buddhist monastic diets to bustling markets in Chiang Mai that sell more greens than gristle, Thailand does have a rich vegetarian culinary backbone that rarely gets the spotlight.
That’s where TOA 66 succeeds.
The space itself is small, just 26 seats, but every inch is layered with intention. There's a whiff of speakeasy mystery as you walk in, the kind of place that doesn't yell for attention but knows it's about to blow your mind. Through a cut-out glass window in the kitchen wall, the chef duo, Kanchit and Natanong Vongvichai, beam at you like food wizards who know what's coming. They are perched higher, their elevated kitchen helps them to see your every expression.
This Thai husband-and-wife chef duo previously created their magic at Vong Wong in Nariman Point (which has now shut down). They are back in Mumbai after a long hiatus of 15 years, with their 35 years of culinary mastery.
Over 200 dishes trialled since November last year, until the final seven-course vegetarian menu was finalised. We begin with Miang Kham, the Thai paan. A paan not for after-dinner toothpick duty, but a glorious single-bite crescendo to kick things off. There is, to be clear, no dainty way to eat it. You go all in. The result is a riot. Toasted coconut, peanuts, ginger, chillies wrapped with the earthy and peppery flavour of Chaplu leaf dipped in the sweet and sticky house sauce is a start you won’t be expecting.
Onwards to the Thai-style protein in Tom Yam sauce. The acidic punch and shrill is in all the right places. You feel the citrus. You feel the heat. The Larb Tofu, served with sticky rice and crisps, is where it starts picking up. The minced tofu version, suspiciously meat-like in its robustness, dressed in herbs, red onion, mint, served with sticky rice and crisps, is lively and fresh. You pair both with the minced tofu and the crisps, you eat both. You love both. You don't want to choose. Let's just say, I don't remember the last time I enjoyed tofu so much.
Next up is the Kway Teow Lod. Handmade rice sheets splayed across the plate, dunked in Penang sauce, thick and sweet with a hint of red curry. There's coriander oil slicked like perfume and fried onion crisps too. It is comforting and dramatic in equal measure, and you will be deeply tempted to lick your plate.
Now, it's time to make some space for the Kway Teow Naam, a bowl of soft rice noodles bobbing in slow-brewed broth. It's quiet food. Delicate food. A gentle, drawn-out murmur of umami, like the deep sigh you let out on a good day. The broth tastes like someone's been nurturing it. You finish it slowly, with reverence. We also tried the Khao Phad Krapow with Tom Kha. The Thai Basil fried rice is chaos in a good way - herby, peppery and the coconut galangal soup works really well with it.
Desserts now. Thap Thim Krop is a mood. Ruby-red water chestnuts jiggling in coconut milk and sala syrup. It's cold, sweet, and has the sort of texture that makes your brain pause - jelly-like, then crunchy, then gone. And if you thought it's all over, wait for the Kra Pow to arrive. A dark chocolate crumb holding court beneath a swoop of Peruvian chocolate mousse, flecked with pistachio praline and slathered in pandan cream. It's deeply satisfying. The mousse is rich, the crumb sharp enough to cut a glass, and the pandan gloriously green and nutty.
At the end of the seven courses, you lean back. You sigh. You would do it all again if your stomach didn't beg you for mercy.
Where: Churchgate, Mumbai
Meal for two: INR 7,000 plus taxes