SalaThai’s legacy lives on at Jay Nok

When the Flying Pig quietly closed its doors in Olympic Village, there were as many as 10 restaurant concepts vying for the space. Those of us who live in the neighbourhood hoped for something exciting (please, for the love of all that is holy, no more expensive omakase-style Japanese spots or restaurants touting “West Coast share plates”). Give us something bold! Something fun and unbuttoned!

Luckily, the winning bid came from husband-and-wife duo Bobby Kongsilp and Bumpen “Nok” Khangrang, who had a vision for a new-age Thai restaurant that built on the legacy of Kongsilp’s family, but took things in a decidedly fresh direction.

Kongsilp’s parents ran the legendary Sala Thai, which was a staple of the Vancouver food scene for nearly four decades and closed its downtown home in April 2024 due to an outrageous rent increase. Shortly thereafter, Kongsilp (who worked the front of house) and Khangrang (the restaurant’s long-time executive chef) went to Thailand—both to decompress and to get re-inspired. 

It worked.

What they dreamed up on that trip turned into Jay Nok: a contemporary Thai restaurant, located at 127 W 2nd Ave, that pays homage to Sala Thai while confidently forming its own identity.

“We wanted to bring in our home food and our style, basically,” says Kongsilp, standing in the middle of the empty restaurant exactly a week shy of its official opening date. “We’ve been working with my parents’ dishes and following their background the whole time [at Sala Thai]. So we’re stepping out and venturing our own way.”

At lunch, diners can expect casual and quick counter service, with a focus on classic Thai dishes that are priced under $25. Dinner, though, is where the team really gets to play. Khangrang, who grew up in Thailand and immigrated to Vancouver in 2012 to work at Sala Thai, created the menu with consultation from celebrated chef Clement Chan, whose resume includes co-founding Torafuku and working as the culinary director at Archer. The resulting dishes are vibrant and exciting: elegantly plated, but bold and unpretentious in flavour.

“We upped things a little—like instead of getting green curry chicken or beef, we did green curry oxtail,” says Kongsilp. “Some of the dishes where you know what you usually get, we changed out the protein and made it a little bit more personal. [And added] a little bit more spice, more flavour, more seasoning.”

Case in point: the soon-to-be-legendary chicken wings, which may just rival the iconic version from Phnom Penh. Perfectly crispy and coated in a hefty dose of salt and sugar (but no MSG), they are served with a garnish of green onion and basil. They’re truly addicting—no dipping sauce needed.

Or there’s the pomelo salad, which sees the textural citrus fruit mixed with sliced red onion and carrot in a tangy tamarind and fish sauce dressing. It’s served with betel leaves that are not, in fact, garnishes, as this author assumed, and are instead meant to be made into delicious little wraps. Then there’s the bone marrow curry noodle (Chiang Mai Khao Soi): a beautiful yellow curry served with egg noodles, fall-off-the-bone spare ribs, and decadent bone marrow. It’s comforting yet elevated.

For dessert, the mango sticky rice with house-made coconut ice cream is a must. Or, if you’d rather drink your sugar, opt for the Thai iced tea, which is deliciously frothy and offers more depth of flavour than the North American version.

The 3,900-square-foot, 126-seat room has plenty of subtle nods to Sala Thai, including the former restaurant’s chairs (which have been reupholstered) and old menus displayed proudly on a bookshelf. But Jay Nok definitely has a more urban feel—from the brick walls, painted deep red; to the 1990s R&B blasting over the speakers; to the large TV broadcasting bustling scenes of food markets in Thailand; to the portable turntable and karaoke machine that they can whip out as they please; to the bright graffiti wall that guides guests to the washrooms.

It’s an incredible feat, especially when you remember that Sala Thai just closed last April, and that Kongsilp and Khangrang only took over the new space in November—meaning they had a mere couple of months to design both the space and the menu. Even getting this far is something to be proud of.

At least, that’s an outsider’s perspective. When asked what his parents think, Kongsilp cracks a smile: “They hate everything,” he says, laughing. He pauses, then adds: “They’re warming up to it.”