Lanna Thai Cuisine

**What sets Lanna apart from Sushi Ota's omakase discipline and Bay Park Fish Company's broad-menu execution:** personalization as the actual service model. While Ota expects you to trust the chef's choices and Bay Park Fish offers range without modification, Lanna's kitchen responds to direct requests — swap proteins, adjust heat, build something that's not written down. The regulars know this. The tourists don't, which is why the in-the-know locals keep coming back to the same small tables in the same unassuming corner of the same strip mall.

The space reads quiet even when packed — a handful of half-booth tables, subdued lighting, no theatrical open kitchen. Service runs brisk without being warm, efficient without hand-holding. It's not a place that over-explains itself. The chicken curry cups arrive as advertised: fun, different, designed to be shareable. The pad see ew and pad kee mao get consistent praise because the kitchen nails the fundamentals — wok heat, texture contrast, a sticky-sweet-savory balance that doesn't lean on sugar as a crutch.

The wild-caught citrus sea bass and yellow curry represent the menu's ceiling — dishes where sourcing matters and technique shows. The sticky rice with mango works as dessert not because it's novel but because it's executed correctly: warm rice, ripe fruit, the kind of textural interplay that closes a meal without feeling heavy.

Parking's typical Mission Bay strip-mall chaos. Go early or expect to circle. Reservations help on weekends. The vegan and vegetarian options aren't afterthoughts — multiple reviews cite them as a reason to return. If you're new, order the tom yum soup and pad see ew to calibrate expectations. If you're a regular, ask what the kitchen can do off-menu. That's where Lanna separates itself from the Thai spots running static playbooks.