While on a chef’s training trip to Bangkok, Thailand, Nil Mutluer—London’s most creative, self-taught chef, known for feeding fashion crowds from Miu Miu to beyond—moved through the city one meal at a time. This is her diary.
Arrived straight into luxury, fully jet-lagged. Coconut waters, pillow menus, spa immediately. Massage every day, no negotiation. Honestly, do both: one proper hotel situation and then a random massage in the middle of the day.
The markets here are actually insane. 24-hour energy. Always moving, always cooking. Nothing is staged, but everything looks perfect. Chefs are obsessed with mise en place on a level I’ve never seen. Every herb, every chili, every lime cut like it actually matters. Even on a random street corner. Or on a literal boat. You can eat constantly: noodles, river prawns, broths— things you don’t fully understand, but trust anyway. Fresh-cut fruit is the best snack ever. Cold, sweet, slightly messy. It’s chaos. But also precision.
The Japanese quarter in Bangkok is a whole different world. Everything gets more precise. Quieter, cleaner, slightly surreal. The food is kind of unbelievable—proper Japanese level. Matcha bakeries, coffee spots, everything done properly. Even the convenience stores—there’s a 7/11 every two seconds. And somehow the snacks are actually good. Like… dangerously good.
Also the secondhand stores: vintage Chanel, designer pieces, almost affordable. And then, at the same time, girls and ladyboys offering erotic massages on every corner. So it’s that mix again: softness and chaos.
Bangkok, but through the people I met there. Not really a guide—more what actually stayed.
Met chef Kannika at Phra Nakhon. Everything felt quiet, precise, rooted. So delicious. Went to a low-key supper club at Haawm—chef Dylan Eitharong’s menu. Insanely delicious. Smart. One of the most inspiring meals I’ve had in a while.
Chef Kat and Diego showed me around the city, which is honestly the best way to understand anywhere— being taken to places you’d never find on your own. We ended up at Delia BKK: smoky, citrusy, full of flavor. Mexican and Thai actually make so much sense together. But the thing I kept noticing everywhere was the mise en place. Doesn’t matter if it’s a boat, a street stall, or a luxury kitchen—everything is prepped perfectly. Every herb, every chili, every lime cut like it actually matters.
There are always those things you end up eating every day. Not intentionally. It just happens. For me: anything with lime and chili, iced drinks in plastic bags, soups that are somehow light and heavy at the same time. You stop questioning it. You just keep going back.
Everything looks chaotic at first. But it’s not. Every movement is precise. Every station is set. Every flavor is balanced. It’s just fast.
Bangkok isn’t somewhere you figure out. You just move through it. Eat what’s in front of you. Follow whoever knows where they’re going. And somehow, it all makes sense after.
