From Bangkok to Bengaluru: Why Thai Cuisine Feels Like Home in India

Not too long ago, Thai food in India was limited to five-star hotels or buried in pan-Asian menus. Today, tom yum is what my friends order when they’re sick, mango sticky rice is a summer favourite, and Thai boba is as common as cutting chai. The cuisine, once exotic, now feels like familiar comfort—even to our parents. As Thailand became more accessible—with budget airlines, visa-on-arrival, and cultural ease—its food lingered in Indian memories. Even for those like me who haven’t travelled there yet, dishes like Massaman curry from Nara Thai or Krathong Thong from Bengaluru’s Muro feel instinctively recognisable. Thai food isn’t just restaurant fare anymore—people are cooking curries from scratch at home, tracking down imported sauces, or adapting them with locally available ingredients.

Authenticity, Fusion And The Growing Global Palate Of Indians

“The common culinary language between Thai and Indian cuisine gave us confidence,” says Abhishek Bindal of Nara Thai, which launched in India with help from its Bangkok chefs. The menu adapts for vegetarian and Jain diners, but the cooking techniques remain authentically Thai. “Even our tweaks are rooted in Thai culinary methods,” he adds.

In Bengaluru, Muro takes a more experimental route. “We’re not doing fusion for the sake of it; we’re respecting ingredients and presenting them differently,” says co-founder Niharika Raval. The restaurant offers Massaman lamb in a banh mi sandwich and Thai curry in savoury pastries, which chef Somporn Chaisuntorn especially highlights. Since it’s Bengaluru, cocktails are never far behind the cuisine. At Muro, they riff on Thai flavours—think tamarind, mango, and chilli, with a tropical punch. “The question we ask is: Does it taste Thai? If yes, we go with it,” adds Raval.

The Post-Pandemic Turnaround Of Thai 

“When we launched Thai Soul in 2018, people in Kochi didn’t know what to expect,” says Johny Joy, Director of F&B at Grand Hyatt Kochi Bolgatty. But curiosity turned into consistent demand, especially post-pandemic. “When we reopened after lockdowns, the restaurant was full almost every night.” They soon introduced Thai Drunch Market evenings, reimagining Bangkok’s night markets with food carts, flambé stations, and plastic-bag cocktails. Chef Bussarin Choksiri brings sauces and rice from Thailand, but often uses local produce—like Alphonso mango for sticky rice. “Indians already love spice and strong flavours,” she says. “I don’t need to change much.”

Elsewhere in Kochi, Café De Bangkok was born out of familiarity. Founders Santosh Baby and S. Sujesh, both in the seafood export business, often travelled to Thailand. “It reminded us of home—rice with multiple curries, coconut milk, eating with hands,” says Santosh. They work with Thai chef Satiti Chaimano to ensure consistency. When they launched in 2022, some customers were unfamiliar with the menu. “We had to rename dishes and adjust prices,” Santosh recalls. “But Gen Z has caught on fast—now they order by the Thai name.”

From Restaurants To Home Kitchens

For many Indians, Thai food is now a home-cooked favourite. For Sonia Thomas, it’s tied to childhood in Saudi Arabia, where a tiny local joint was the default for family celebrations. “The flavours stuck,” she recalls. Now based in Mumbai, Pad Ped Gai with sticky rice is a dish she loves to indulge in with her family—whenever they can, for old times’ sake.

For Suman Doogar, it was a trip to Thailand that transformed her into a Thai food devotee. “Thailand fed both my soul and curiosity,” she says. At home near Kochi, she recreates yellow curry and som tum using store-bought sauces and local produce. Her Kerala-born partner finds the flavours familiar, thanks to their shared coconut base.

Designer Annah Chakola now considers Thai food a staple in her Kochi home—but it all started with $7 drunken noodles during art school in the U.S., and learning to make it herself on a student budget. “I take cooking classes every time I visit Thailand,” she says. “There are so many simple tips that lifted my home Thai game.” Instagram, she adds, has been a great way to discover recipes. “I always make sure to bring back Thai curry pastes on each of my trips.”

Berlin-based Vanya Lochan began cooking Thai food during the pandemic, recreating a vegetarian Massaman curry she’d first eaten at a restaurant in Cambridge. “It felt like a stand-in for Indian food when I was homesick,” she says. Her background in history adds another layer of intrigue: “South India and Thailand share historical and culinary roots—coconuts, spices, curries. It makes sense why the flavours feel so close.”

Making Thai Cuisine And Its Comforting Complexity Our Own

According to culinary consultant Gautam Krishnankutty, Thai food’s tropical profile—coconuts, dried fish, umami—already feels familiar in the South. “With so much travel to Thailand and Vietnam, even folks in the North have stopped seeing it as exotic,” he says. But he notes the “missing middle”: “Too many Thai options are either luxury dining or buried in pan-Asian menus. We need more stand-alone, mid-range Thai spots.” Kutty, who once ran a Thai cloud kitchen, observes that more Indians are now making their own curry pastes, growing Thai herbs, and cooking elaborate meals at home. “People are not just consuming Thai food—they’re making it their own.”

That adaptability might be the biggest reason for Thai cuisine’s resonance in India. Not because it’s trendy or exotic, but because—like the best food cultures—it is multifaceted: balancing regional innovation with familiar tropical flavours, freshness and tart notes with the depth of herbs, and continuous reinvention while staying true to its roots.

As for our generation of Indian diners, Thai food is no longer something you only eat on vacation. It feels like something you remember, something you learn to cook, something you pass around the dinner table with loved ones.

It feels, in a word, like comfort.