Has the popular Thai restaurant survived the move from Leytonstone to Shoreditch?
In London dining circles, Singburi carries a weight of history. The unassuming Thai restaurant opened in Leytonstone in 1999 by the family of Chef Sirichai Kularbwong and became one of London's most talked-about dining rooms thanks to elusive reservations, uncompromising cooking, and a lack of ceremony. For years, it was a local's haunt, where dinners were BYOB affairs, the blackboard specials drew diners from across the city, and getting a table became part of the thrill.
Singburi's move from Leytonstone to Shoreditch is a testament to success, now polished for a new stage at Montacute Yards near Shoreditch High Street. With his parents' retirement, Chef Sirichai has partnered with chef Nick Molyviatis and restaurateur Alex Gkikas to shape Singburi's next chapter. The question is simple: has the essence survived the upgrade?
The room suggests it has. The pared-back décor feels purposeful rather than pretty, with grey walls and exposed piping that allows the focus to remain firmly on what's on the plate. There are just 19 counter seats, all facing into the heat and smoke. It's industrial in palette, but not austere. The warmth comes from the energy at the pass and the raucous conversation.
From my perch at 9.45pm, secured almost two months in advance – the once-chaotic reservation system has been replaced by OpenTable convenience – the view is a steady choreography of woks, smoke and swift seasoning. Service is switched on and unflustered, despite a packed dining room. Plates arrive in quick succession; there's guidance on heat levels when asked, and the team seems genuinely pleased you made the effort to come.
The menu mixes Thai foundations with occasional twists and an emphasis on fire and smoke. With just 13 dishes, you can try much of the offering in one sweep. It's a smart move. We begin with Wild Ginger Chicken Thigh, the meat marinated to tenderness and glossed in a sauce that's aromatic rather than sugary, the bite of wild ginger cutting through with a pleasant hum. Grilled Lamb Riblets with Chilli and Lime land next and are sticky, smoky, moreish morsels, served on the bone.
A Radish, Kohlrabi and Chilli Jam Salad acts as the palate's reset button. It's crunchy, lightly sweet from the jam, with a measured heat that creeps rather than shouts. The salad's role as a cooling hinge between deeper flavours and spicier dishes is appreciated. From there, the kitchen steps on the gas with a fiery Aubergine Pad Phet that arrives with charred edges, soft centres, and a savoury paste that clings without clogging.
Carnivores may gravitate towards the Denver Steak Nam Dtok. Sliced to a blushing medium and seasoned with toasted rice powder, herbs and fish sauce, it leans into texture, offering tender meat. The standout of the evening is the Monkfish Cheeks Green Curry, where the herbs present cleanly and the heat rides in the background. The delicate monkfish cheeks are springy yet yielding, and the sauce carries depth without oiliness. It's the dish that most clearly demonstrates Singburi 2.0's clarity of flavour and respect for tradition. Be sure to order the fragrant jasmine rice to soak up every last drop of the green curry sauce.
One of the pleasures of Singburi's menu is its restraint. Heat is omnipresent but rarely overwhelming; each dish has its own identity, and nothing is needlessly sweet or greasy. There is no dessert list – a decision carried over from the original venue. What ties the meal together, however, is restraint. The Shoreditch setting could have nudged the restaurant towards trend-chasing, but it retains its essence and traditional flavours, while keeping the pacing considerate. You never feel rushed, yet tables turn with ease. There's theatre in the open kitchen, but no showboating.
Singburi now carries an alcohol licence, and the concise cocktail list, created in collaboration with Vassilios Kyritsis of The Clumsies in Athens, offers a succinct list ranging from a clarified Bloody Mary to a Makrut Lime Leaf Gimlet. Plus, there are 14 wines available by the glass.
Service merits its own note. Booking lead times suggest a certain mania, yet the welcome is calm and unfussy. Servers are quick to discuss spice levels and offer pairings from the bar without upsell.
So, does the relocation of Singburi deliver? The Shoreditch iteration has distilled what made the original an insider's favourite and presented it with sharper lines. The menu's brevity is a strength, as is the reasonable price point. Our meal for two (with alcohol) clocked in at around £160.
Singburi 2.0 stands on its own as a compelling, contemporary Thai counter that honours its heritage while embracing a broader audience. For those who once trekked to the suburbs to sample those blackboard specials, the wait for a reservation remains. But it's more than worth it. Set a reminder for the reservation drop and be ready to take the late slot. You'll be happy you did.
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