Tucked in a corner of the Shops at Exit 24 in Phoenix is a Thai restaurant offering an alluring and authentic array of Thai dishes.

The sign and front door for Charm Thai Kitchen are tucked so deep in the furthest back corner of the strip mall that my husband complained he didn’t know where in the parking lot to go. I guided him by pointing to the unique steeple-like structure rising above the restaurant. Approaching the front door, I was concerned by the trendy, hipster-looking interior. Was this the kind of place that relied on cuteness and gimmicks to get by, or is the food serious?

We wandered past the warm polished wood tables to a counter where a waiter was prompt to offer menus and seating. I asked to sit outside, noticing the quaint courtyard just beneath the steeple, strung with lights and comfortable-looking bistro tables. Upon sitting at the table, we were quickly aware that it was either on uneven footing or had uneven legs. I finally had to stomp my foot down on one of the legs of the table to prevent any further wobbling. 

The thick brown paper menu was cute, but more importantly, the list of options filled me with indecision. I sent the waiter away to circle three times. I finally asked my dining companion to stop teasing me and be silent while I deliberated. Should I try their spin on the ubiquitous, nearly universally beloved Pad Thai? Preserved radishes were an intriguing addition. Thai curry has a special place in my heart, and the favorites were laid out from green to massaman. But there were so many unfamiliar dishes.

Koong Plaa, a shrimp dish with lemongrass, kaffir lime leaf and onions sounded fresh and bright — perfect for the end of a hot day. Another dish that sounded good was Kao Kai Jiew, a Thai omelet with green onion, white pepper and “authentic sriracha,” available with either shrimp or pork.

Ordering an appetizer bought me some time. We went with a classic — fried vegetable rolls ($9). Informed by enthusiastic Google reviews for Charm, I also ordered the Yozu lemonade ($4). My husband decided on another classic, Singha beer ($5).

When the appetizer arrived, the waiter asked again if we were ready to order — this time with hesitation and hopefulness in his voice. It was time. I decided ordering the most unusual thing on the menu was as good a way to choose as any other.

Pla Krob Noom — deep fried swai fish with housemade apple sweet tangy sauce, red onion, chili, lime and cashews — a Charm specialty — was my choice. The dish is the most expensive on the menu at $20. My husband ordered Rad Nah, a meat and noodle dish with Chinese broccoli and “brown gravy sauce,” for a milder price of $15. I appreciated the waiter asking me how spicy I wanted my Pla Krob Noom; very spicy, of course.

The appetizer arrived, and the table rocked between us as we alternated moving our arms across it to snatch at the rolls. The plum dipping sauce was a promise of good things to come. I almost forgot about the table bobbing like a drowning man as I dipped the shatteringly crisp rolls into the sauce. It was there, the perfect balance of acid and sweetness that is the hallmark of exceptional Thai food. 

My plate arrived and surprised me. Two large pieces of crispy fish. In a separate bowl was a bright colorful thing, looking like a salad. I must have betrayed the surprise on my face as the waiter asked, “Uh, have you ever had this before?”

He kindly explained that I was supposed to stir an amber colored sauce at the bottom of the bowl into what I then realized were julienne sliced granny smith apples and red onion with a smattering of diced bird’s eye chili and garlic. I was to spoon the stirred mixture over the crispy fish and eat it all together.

The menu’s description of an “apple sauce” had conjured a completely different, pureed vision in my mind. I was pleasantly surprised by the fresh, crispy apples. We sat waiting, but my husband’s dish did not come.

I attempted to balance grace against my greedy hunger in stirring the long apple slices into the sauce at the bottom of the bowl. They seemed determined to flop over the rim and down the lattice holes in the bistro table. As I concentrated on this, I couldn’t help but notice a minor drama at the table across the courtyard from us.

The waiter delivered a dish after the large group at the table had already finished eating everything else. One of their party asked the waiter with measured politeness why the 45-minute wait for the dish? They were already full and had been ready to assume it was forgotten and forgive the oversight.

I also noticed — with the hawk-eye stare the hungry can have for waiters — another dish was delivered to them with a significant time lag as well. The waiter attempted to explain, which I could not overhear, and it seemed the customers accepted the explanation with graciousness.

Informed by this little episode, I moved my fish into the middle of the table and invited my husband to share it. Fried food never tastes good cold, may as well share what comes as it comes, we decided. Within 10 minutes, a bowl was delivered to his side of the table and we continued to share our meals.

One taste, and nothing else mattered. I was bewitched by the Pla Krob Noom.

The apple “sauce” once stirred coated the porous granny smiths in a rich umami and spicy sauce. The equally rich fish was not battered or greasy — a thin, crispy coating covered a flaky fresh filet. The smattering of cashews throughout the dish were a buttery and welcome addition to the sweet-tart of the apples, the heat of the peppers, sour of the lime and the meaty umami of the fish and its coating. With every bite, I was increasingly convinced it was one of the best things I’ve ever ordered in a restaurant and something I will now hopelessly crave.

My husband willfully pushed his bowl toward me and pulled my plate toward him. With two large fish filets on the plate and an ample helping of apples, I was content to share.

The Rad Na tasted like something a mother would lovingly make for a sick child on a rainy day. Another trap — this dish could serve any comfort food need and would also be setting up shop in my imagination. The rice noodles were the same soft, pillowing variety used in Pad Kee Mao. They floated in a rich, meaty and yet slightly sour silky brown sauce that was abundant enough to be called a broth. The steak pieces were thin but toothsome. The Chinese broccoli was verdant and crunchy, a nice foil to the other soft elements in the bowl. Much as I enjoyed it, I was still eager to pull back the Pla Krob Noom.

When we were finished, the waitress smiled and said “See you next time” as we paid the bill. She seemed to know they hooked two new regulars.

Charm Thai Kitchen, located at 205 N. Phoenix Road #E1, in Phoenix is open 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. and from 4:30 to 8:30 p.m. Mondays through Saturdays.

The restaurant has a website, charmthaioregon.square.site with a convenient menu featuring photos of many of the dishes; however, ordering through the website is currently disabled. Take-out orders can be made by phone at 541-897-0301.