Eric V.
Yelp
When you see the sign out front, you may find it illegible. You may forgive yourself, it's not your fault.
Spicy Joi is the name. The people in charge here decided to creatively misspell "Joy." They then doubled down on creativity. The letters J-O-I are spelled out using hieroglyphics; represented with a chili pepper, a mortar, and a pestle, respectively. While the chili and the pestle are clear enough. The side view of a stone mortar and the letter 'O' bear about the same resemblance as an Eskimo and a Swahili.
Then, on the glass door, there is a diminutive, yet arresting photo of a cheesy looking Lao man. Presumably the restaurateur. If that is him, he knows how to run a counter service restaurant better than most, dorky photo aside.
Two women, one slightly younger, the other slightly older, both very pretty and friendly are in control of the front.
The dining room smells stinky in the right kind of way. The funk of fermentation tells you the food will be bursting with umami.
The khao soi is different from the khao soi you've eaten at Thai places. This is not an orange colored curry with coconut. The Laotian khao soi is a bowl of cut noodles (as the name states) in a lighter broth of fermented soy bean. The beans, caramel in hue, are anchored at the bottom of the bowl.
The soup exudes garlic. There's more garlic blast per mL therein than in any other soup known to man. Swimming too in the bowl are some of the most savory tomatoes I've ever had. A red oil slick covers the surface. It wasn't spicy: I wonder if that was oil from a tomato confit. The tomato flavor is amplified. There's also pork. Bits of what I gather to be pork but swim alongside minced pork. It's even been garnished with a candy bar sized piece of pork belly.
The khaopoon is reminiscent of Thai tom ka gai: broth rich with coconut, freshened up with kaffir leaf, populated with bits of chicken. This soup uses vermicelli noodles. The chicken is from the thigh. There's also stray bits of curdled blood and chicken gizzards. I assure you, it will be pleasant.
Very tasty are some housemade sausages, filled with a coarse grind that is enveloped with a natural casing that snaps under the pressure of your bite. You can choose to pair them with either sticky rice, steamed rice, or vegetables. You want the sticky rice. Sticky rice and grilled meat go like a hand in glove. I ordered mine with the hot and sour lime sauce. Very refreshing. Very delicious.
Maybe the best part about Spicy Joi is that the chef/patron, whose photo is stuck on the front door, is an individual. He has designed this place according to his own fashion. I love southeast Asian food, it might be my favorite. But most of the Thai and Vietnamese places in the suburbs are cooking by numbers. They all follow the same template. Go to one; you've gone to them all. Spicy Joi has individual personality.