How Chef Thai Changthong Turned His Mom’s Home Cooking Into Austin’s Most Sought-After Street Food

When chef Thai Changthong first opened his P Thai’s Khao Man Gai food stall in July 2023 at the Hong Kong Supermarket, he set out to do one thing – Thai Chinese style chicken rice – and do it exceptionally well.

“Basically, this is three-way chicken. We never throw away anything,” Changthong explained. “It’s fucking genius, whoever come up with this.”

The broth is made. The chicken is cooked in the broth, fortifying it. The rice is cooked in the broth. “And the [chicken] skin you fry,” he adds.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

“Everything becomes food, it’s so delicious!”

Austinites agreed. Changthong’s food stall was packed. Enthusiastic eaters and a who’s who of legit chefs and industry folk from all over the country flocked to experience the stall’s signature dish, consisting of poached Thai chicken, perfectly cooked chicken-fat rice, a house-made fermented bean chili ginger sauce, crisp cucumbers, and a side of hot, clean chicken consommé.

Inspired by the Thai Chinese food his mother cooked for him and super-powered by decades of experience, P Thai’s was a hit.

Then P Thai’s first home, the Hong Kong Supermarket, announced it was closing after nearly 20 years, and on the last Saturday in January 2024, P Thai’s served its last khao man gai there.

Origin Story

Changthong’s back-of-the-house pedigree holds serious weight, with stints in the best kitchens in Austin, where he earned the respect of his peers – the consummate chef’s chef.

Hailing from Bangkok, he moved to North Hollywood when he was very young and first worked in the industry as a dishwasher. Around the age of 15, he relocated to Austin and was picking cilantro and doing basic prep for Satay off of Anderson, one of the first Thai restaurants in town, which closed in 2016.

He was a teppanyaki chef for a time at a Benihana-like flat-top grill joint. He said he would get off the floor some nights after being slammed and then go to the kitchen to break down cases of whole chickens, still slightly frozen, with a ramekin of hot water in front of him to keep his fingers from completely numbing. With a laugh and a large grin, he boasted he can break down a whole chicken in less than 20 seconds.

In 2004, he was hired on by Tyson Cole at Uchi, moving to Uchiko after it opened in 2010. He then went on to help open SPIN Modern Thai (2012-2013) in Cedar Park with Ek Timrek, an Uchi alum and one of the founders of East Side King.

Changthong helped Paul Qui open the short-lived Qui in what is now the Ramen Tatsu-ya space on East Sixth. He then went on to open Thai-Kun with Qui, who is now a silent partner. The original food trailer was first parked at Wonderland, and eventually landed at Whisler’s. A brick-and-mortar Thai-Kun on Rock Rose opened two years later, in 2016. Two more Thai-Kun locations followed – at Tributary Food Hall and Drinkery in Denver (opened in 2019, now closed) and Thai-Kun POST Market in Houston (opened in 2021). Changthong said the initial success of Thai-Kun gave him the confidence to venture in a more singular, less Western-familiar, direction with his food, those first seedlings of P Thai’s sprouting. And, of course, some of Austin’s most lauded chefs were already big fans.

“Honestly, he makes some of the best Thai food in the country, and I’ll tell anybody from New York or L.A. that,” his longtime partner Qui said.

“It’s not even close.”

Comedor chef/owner Philip Speer worked with Changthong at Uchi and Uchiko. “I always knew that Thai was an amazing cook at Uchi, because when he made a family meal it was the best meal ever,” he said, referencing the meal cooked for staff before service at some restaurants because it is too busy and hectic to take breaks to eat.

Speer said that he told Changthong back then that he understood “that, culturally, you can just eat a handful of Thai chiles, but the rest of us can’t! You have to tone this down.”

“And to this day, that’s kind of like the running joke,” Speer said.

“'Oh, is it too hot, Philip, is it too hot?’ He always gives me shit about that.

“'I’ll make it not too spicy for Philip.’”

Bringing the Heat

Some may say it’s commercial suicide to offer a menu with basically two items as an initial business venture, but throughout Asia and the Asian diaspora this is de rigueur. Very limited offerings, but what is offered is done very well.

Changthong went all in with his concept, which he began working on before the pandemic. The original P Thai’s was both homage to his mother and an affirmation to himself that he could cook what he likes. He equated the venture to gambling, but the positive early response convinced him the town was ready and that eaters were eager to educate themselves, and in turn be educated by new foods.

Late last year, we sat across from each other at one of the white laminate countertops of the P Thai’s stall during the lull between the lunch rush and the early dinner crowd. Two seats out of a dozen or so, snaking the perimeter of his stall, made up his corner of the Hong Kong Supermarket. P Thai’s logo on the west wall – a Lego-like cartoon chicken man holding a large cleaver embossed in red – is, one would imagine, a nod to his general disposition: humble, hardworking, deeply funny, his whole positive cosmic vibe zinging around him like you just ate a handful of Thai chiles.

Dry yellow batter was splattered on his right forearm as he continually wiped the clean countertop with a neatly folded kitchen towel. We talked about his ethos and drive.

“I don’t know how to do American style,” Changthong told me. “I’m all about passion not fashion.”

I asked him if there was any peril to essentially focusing on a single dish at this stall. “If we are going to do this, don’t touch my heat,” he replied. “I think Austin is ready.”

“Don’t touch my heat” succinctly sums up what Changthong is all about – bringing that fire, literally and metaphorically.

“Let’s sell what we eat,” he said. “Give them our culture.”

Family Meal Finds a New Home

P Thai’s in Hong Kong Supermarket was open less than a year, but Changthong’s passion for Thai Chinese cuisine, and for conjuring his mother’s recipes, never waned. Changthong is part Chinese on his mother’s side, and she has been the catalyst for his drive in this direction. In May, it pointed south, to the old Vamonos! space at 4807 Airport.

Still in its soft launch, the newly minted P Thai’s Khao Man Gai & Noodles rolled out the original menu from the food stall and added a handful of noodle dishes and appetizers. The fiery Boat Noodles in a pork five-spice broth is something you just need to keep slurping, because it is hot, and doesn’t quit. It’s delectably complex and rich, but without being heavy, and like most of Changthong’s food it is simple, elegant, and layered. The Pig Tongue Salad, too, is sublime.

The new P Thai’s is counter service for the time being. Changthong knows that a brick-and-mortar brings different challenges, but it’s not his first rodeo.

“Hong Kong Supermarket was good for me to find out if Austin is ready for this kind of food,” Changthong said, reflecting on the path from there to here. “For the new space, I am expanding my menu bigger and this will be my challenge.”

The focus, Changthong said, will remain on Thai Chinese street food – “dishes that will bring you back to Yaowarat/Chinatown in Bangkok.”

Photos of his mother holding one of her dishes, and of his father transcribing her recipes, wave goodbye to you as you exit the dining room, a testament to Changthong’s ethos of family, and sharing that with the community he cooks for.

He makes you feel like you are at his table, and that’s a special thing.