Sukho Thai Extraordinaire

While Kin Len commits to Bangkok street-cart funk and Underbelly riffs on fusion ramen, Sukho operates in the register of proper Thai cookery: techniques that take time, seafood that matters, spice levels calibrated across a legit ten-point scale. The Miang Kham—lettuce cups packed with peanuts, coconut, lime, shrimp, and a tamarind-heavy sauce—signals kitchen priorities. This isn't assembly work. Neither is the signature sole fillet, which reviewers call cooked-to-perfection with the reverence of people who've ordered too much overcooked fish elsewhere.

The green curry earns mentions even at level two spice, which tells you the kitchen builds flavor before it builds heat. Pad See Ew gets the wide-noodle treatment right—reviewers flag the noodles specifically, not just the dish. The passion fruit tea with flowers reads like a small flourish, the kind of detail that separates spots running on auto-pilot from ones still paying attention.

The room runs small and warm—indoor seating plus a patio that handles North Park's year-round outdoor default. Counter service keeps things moving; Becky gets name-checked in reviews for actually smiling, which shouldn't be notable but somehow is. The vibe skews neighborhood-staple more than date-night destination, though the cooking holds up either way.

Practical notes: reservations accepted, which matters when the room's this compact. Spice scale goes to ten and they mean it—level four vegetable soup gets a parenthetical warning from someone who ordered it. Spring rolls arrive large with peanut sauce; order them if you're sharing, skip if you're saving room for curry. Lunch and dinner both; no posted hours means call ahead if you're planning around specific timing.