Wednesday, May 19, 2004 | 8:33 a.m.
The article is a source of pride for both of them, but for radically different reasons.
For Suchay, it's an affirmation that his years of sacrificing his career and future, and living in relative poverty for more than a decade, were worth it.
For Saipin, who spent nearly three decades perfecting her cooking skills in Thailand, it's a reminder that if her food wasn't world class, she'd have a lot of angry ancestors.
Saipin and Suchay are the only children of their respective families to leave the protective hub of Thailand for America, and their backgrounds bespeak decades of discipline, sweat and perfectionism.
Both are propelled by a desire to do their families proud. Whether they've accomplished that, neither will say, but they've certainly made their mark on Las Vegas.
The Chutimas (pronounced "shoo-TEE-mas") will be the first to say their restaurant at 953 E. Sahara Ave. isn't meant to be an aesthetic experience. In fact, they didn't even change the name of the establishment upon taking it over in 2000.
A small entryway adorned with cloth flowers and statues leads to an average-sized eatery. Steam tables sit in the center for the buffet, and pictures of Saipin with various guests cover the walls.
Fold-out paper walls give guests as much privacy as possible in the snug setting, and glass chandeliers illuminate a seashell-pattern carpet and simple wooden tables and chairs.
Understated, yes, but everything at the Chutimas' restaurant is secondary to the food. What you see and smell at Lotus of Siam isn't prepared with the New York Times in mind; accolades are nice, but the Chutimas have never forgotten that hard work got them where they are and they intend to stay there a long time.
Serious food
One of the first things Suchay, 48, learned growing up in Thailand was the importance of food in Thai culture.
Most of the women he grew up with spent most of their time in the kitchen, and it wasn't because they loved to cook; it was because it was expected of them.
Saipin's grandmother, Tha, was one of the most respected cooks in her village of Chiang Mai in Northern Thailand, and she cooked for large groups and people in the temples, in addition to her family.
Suchay's grandmother, Anocha, and his mother, Pensi, were also renowned cooks. Sometimes it took them days to prepare one meal.
One such dish was rice in fragrant water and served with garnish. Suchay explained that because Thailand is so hot and humid, the rice must be put in ice-cold water. Jasmine and floating candles are added, and when the candles burn out, the infusion flavors the rice.
While Suchay remembers it as his favorite homemade dish, you won't find it at Lotus of Siam.
"Good God, you have to spend two days to cook that," he said, rolling his eyes.
"Cooking (in Thailand) is taken very seriously," he said, his warm smile suddenly vanishing. "If you feed a lot of people, you'd better make sure they're all happy."
Curiosity
In addition to home-cooked meals, Suchay was exposed to the restaurant industry at an early age. His father, Chatchuwan, was an adjustor for a financial institution and took his son everywhere he went.
While eating at some of Thailand's best restaurants, Suchay discovered he was seized with a limitless curiosity about the business.
"I wanted to know why this restaurant was successful and this one wasn't," he said. "I wanted to know why this guy can sell this thing for this price and this guy can't."
He proved quite the prodigy. Suchay quickly absorbed the laws of economics, and decided to make it a career. He received a bachelor of arts degree in personnel administration from Payap College in Thailand at age 20, and spent a few years after that helping his father in his business.
Suchay soon decided he wanted to achieve something of his own, and applied to -- and was accepted at -- Columbia University in New York in 1979.
His goal was a masters in business, after which he would either open his own business or teach.
Disappointment
Suchay immediately enrolled in English classes upon arriving in America, eager to get started in his new life.
America had other plans. Later that year Suchay received a letter from the Immigration and Naturalization Service, informing him he had to move back to Thailand, and that he was in the country illegally.
There was very little reason for him to stay. He could no longer attend Columbia. Living in the country illegally posed a risk to his safety. A good-paying job was waiting at his father's successful business in Thailand. And he could rejoin his family.
But Suchay wanted desperately to make it on his own.
"America is the land of opportunity," he said. "I've always been a stubborn person."
For more than 10 years Suchay put his future on hold, taking odd jobs wherever he could find them. He moved to California in 1981, and did "anything to keep myself afloat."
It wasn't until the Clinton administration that Suchay would become a legalized citizen. When the Amnesty program went into effect in the early '90s, Suchay showed up with his INS letter in hand. Instead of getting a ticket home, he got a green card.
Servitude
Saipin, also 48, makes no secret of the fact that she was forced into a cooking apprenticeship at the age of 5 under her grandmother, Tha.
"I was not interested in cooking at all," said Saipin, who speaks no English and whose comments were interpreted by the restaurant's manager, Bank Atcharawan. "I wanted to work in a beauty parlor."
The apprenticeship lasted until her grandmother got too old to teach her. During that time, however, "I grew to love it," Saipin said.
At age 14 she began to divide her apprenticeship between Tha and Suchay's grandmother Anocha, who had heard about Saipin through the grapevine.
For a few years she commuted 45 minutes between the two women, doing little but cooking and studying cooking.
She eventually became Anocha's full-time apprentice and, at age 17, met her future husband, who was always hanging around his grandmother's kitchen.
"I'm a busybody," Suchay said, laughing. "I was nosing around and met her."
They fell in love almost immediately, and Suchay had planned to send for her shortly after arriving in America. His decision to stay in the U.S. illegally, however, affected both their lives, as Saipin had planned to open a restaurant once coming stateside. It would be seven years before she saw Suchay again.
Her apprenticeship in Thailand would last nearly 26 years.
The main thing she learned during those years, and the best advice she can give budding cooks, is "to take care of yourself. Do it yourself first, and don't let anybody help you."
Smell of success
When Anocha died in 1987, Saipin, who at that point had little reason to stay, gave Suchay an ultimatum.
"She said, 'I'm not waiting anymore. It's now or never,' " Suchay said. They were married that year, and spent the first few years of married life raising their daughter, Penny. Suchay, who had been moving wherever he could find work, suddenly found himself anchored in Los Angeles.
The restaurant plans, which remained on hold after Saipin's arrival until Suchay got his green card, became a reality in 1994. The couple purchased Renu Nakorn, a Thai food restaurant, in Norwalk, Calif.
Saipin finally got to put her skills to the test, and the rave reviews began almost immediately. In addition to the aforementioned New York Times sound bite, Vogue, the Los Angeles Times and other publications all ran positive write-ups.
Her specialties included kha-nom-jean-nam-ngyow (rice vermicelli curry), kang-hung-lay (pork stew Northern curry), mee krob (crispy noodles mixed with sweet-and-sour sauce, chicken and shrimp) and nam kao tod (minced sour sausage mixed with green onion, fresh chili, ginger, peanuts, crispy rice and lime juice).
There was only one tiny problem: the restaurant was only 500 yards from a not-so-fresh-smelling dairy.
"That was very interesting," Suchay said, laughing. "People would go outside to smoke, and then come back inside very quickly. Regardless of our write-ups, a lot of people tried to stay away from us."
The Chutimas kept their eyes open for other opportunities, and when a Las Vegas restaurant went on sale, they wasted no time.
"No dairies in Las Vegas," Suchay said.
Secrets of the trade
Lotus of Siam has since become synonymous with quality Las Vegas dining. Gourmet Magazine called it "the single best Thai restaurant in North America."
While Saipin's cooking is the restaurant's signature, Suchay's contribution is much more subtle: He's a "mole" who visits the competition and keeps Saipin up on the latest trends.
His natural curiosity about the restaurant industry as a child has served him well into adulthood. He travels not only around Las Vegas but around the world.
Suchay is so meticulous about his work that he declined having his picture taken for this article (no pictures of him hang in Lotus of Siam), and he always uses a different name whenever he visits a competitor.
"It is a very competitive market," he said. "You have to have knowledge of who you compete with. I know what to buy and where to buy it. Most people say, 'They have a great chef,' but where do those chefs get their supplies?"
As for his secretiveness, Suchay said it's "no different than a food critic who goes incognito."
His job requires him to be apart from his wife and two daughters, Penny, 16, and Sabrina, 7, for sometimes months at a time, but he said his family understands.
"I'm like the family man, so if the wife and kids are happy, I'm happy," he said. "And they know I love them."
When at home -- and sometimes at work -- he tries cooking himself every now and then, but it never quite turns out as good as his wife's.
"You can't compare a Toyota to a Mercedes," he said, shooting a sly grin. "I do whatever I like, but then she comes in and says, 'No, this is what I do,' and I say, 'OK, go ahead. You have that sharp knife in your hand.' "
archive
