Water is eternal. Much like energy, it cannot be destroyed, only transformed. It freezes, it melts, it disappears into the air and it falls from the sky. It splits into hydrogen and oxygen during photosynthesis, yet it never fails to find its way back together again — after energising all life on Earth.
In other words, water remembers, even after countless metamorphic cycles. It carries memories of terroir, taste and tradition across the boundaries of time and space, in a manner not dissimilar to the culinary ethos of Thaninthorn “Noom” Chantrawan, head chef and founder of One-MICHELIN-starred Chim by Chef Noom in Kuala Lumpur.
“My philosophy is deeply rooted in the belief that food is memory,” he explains. “At Chim, which means ‘to taste’ in Thai, I strive to preserve the wisdom of traditional Thai cuisine while reimagining it through a modern lens.”
Every dish that passes through the hallowed halls of his artfully decorated restaurant in the heart of the city “begins with history — whether from royal kitchens, village wisdom or forgotten techniques — and evolves through refined interpretation.”
In partnership with MOMAwater, we wade into Chantrawan’s culinary inspirations, as made evident by the innovative, yet honest, takes on ancient Thai food heritage at his Bangkok flagship Chim by Siam Wisdom (also One-MICHELIN-starred) and Malaysian outpost both. Along the way, we stop to reflect on the little things that matter, recognising — as MOMAwater does — that the journey is just as important as the destination.
“My philosophy is deeply rooted in the belief that food is memory,” says Thaninthorn “Noom” Chantrawan, head chef and founder of One-MICHELIN-starred Chim by Chef Noom in Kuala Lumpur.
Though Chantrawan’s upbringing in the food paradise of Nakhon Pathom, a city in central Thailand, undoubtedly stoked his gastronomic flame, he lays his culinary aspirations and inspirations at the feet of his mother, his grandmother and the Thai matriarchs that preceded them.
“My greatest inspiration comes from Thai wisdom passed down through generations — recipes handwritten in fading ink, ingredients used not just for flavour but for healing too, and the quiet artistry of Thai grandmothers who cook without measuring spoons, but with instinct and heart.”
He honed his own instincts to a razor’s edge with a 14-year journey through some of London’s most notable establishments including MICHELIN Selected Zuma and 3-Star Sketch, culminating in a grand display of modern European wizardry on TV cooking competition, Iron Chef Thailand.
The chef came into his own in 2016 when he took over Chim by Siam Wisdom, where he quickly made his penchant for history and heritage known with a prominent turn to Royal Thai cuisine.
“The greatest lesson I’ve learned is that respect must always come before creativity. Whether it’s for an ingredient, a technique, a farmer or a forgotten recipe — true innovation only happens when you understand and respect the foundation first.”
For Chantrawan, authenticity acts as the guiding light for all that passes through his kitchens. It is easy, then, to see why his most famous dish comes from an ancient text dating back more than 200 years.
The Lost Recipe, a 200-year-old variation of Tom Yum once served as a royal delicacy in Siam, is reimagined by Chef Noom at Chim.
His signature Tom Yum Plachon Bo-Larn — also referred to dramatically as “The Lost Recipe” — is said to have once graced the royal kitchens of King Rama II, the second monarch of Siam under the Chakri dynasty.
“The soup was crafted for the king when he lost his appetite. Infused with Thai herbs, fish and seasonal fruits, it was nourishing, delicate and fragrant,” says Chantrawan, who first discovered the recipe hidden within a university professor’s collection of ancient royal Thai manuscripts.
“Turning this forgotten recipe into a signature dish was both a challenge and a calling. I began by studying every detail — ingredient ratios, seasonal availability, even how people of that era cooked,” says the chef. “Then came the testing. It took many iterations, as I balanced honouring the original essence with adapting it to today’s refined palate.”
Ingredients such as burnt shallots and burnt tomatoes lend an alluring smokiness to the dish.
The version of the dish served at his restaurants today is chunky, deeply red, fragrant and complex. It arrives at the table in a traditional clay tagine, laden with chunks of wild-caught freshwater snakehead, local citrus fruits, burnt shallots, burnt tomatoes and a housemade smoked chili jam.
“Its flavour is light yet layered; umami from the fish, citrusy brightness from local fruits and the depth of Thai herbs slowly simmered. Guests often tell me it feels comforting yet intriguing — like tasting a memory they never knew they had,” Chantrawan says.
“Turning this forgotten recipe into a signature dish was both a challenge and a calling. I began by studying every detail — ingredient ratios, seasonal availability, even how people of that era cooked,” says the chef.
“This dish represents everything I believe in: respecting the past, reviving lost flavours and connecting history to the present.”
Chantrawan is no stranger to the discipline and sacrifice his craft demands. Even now, he admits that he lacks both time for himself and his family.
In the moments of stillness which remain, the chef says he returns “to the simplest things — visiting local markets, talking with elders or flipping through old Thai cookbooks.”
“These moments reconnect me with my roots and remind me why I started. Sometimes, clarity comes not from creating something new, but from rediscovering something old.”
In a way, these moments of insight serve to power Chantrawan through the tireless days and nights of operating fine-dining restaurants at the highest level.
They might also be why the chef has never lost his passion for the culinary arts. “Cooking gives me a sense of purpose and connection,” he says. “It’s both meditation and storytelling. When I cook, I feel deeply rooted in my culture, yet also free to express my own voice. It’s my way of preserving heritage and sparking curiosity — one dish at a time.”
Says the chef: “Sometimes, clarity comes not from creating something new, but from rediscovering something old.”
Even now, when Chantrawan extends his constant self-reflections to the state of Thai cuisine outside of his home country, he believes there is much work left to be done.
“In Malaysia, where Thai food is often simplified, I see an opportunity to introduce guests to the full spectrum of Thai culinary identity,” he says. “Dishes like fermented fish curry, royal broths or durian sticky rice aren’t always expected, but when presented with context and care, they leave a lasting impression.
“My mission is to protect, preserve and elevate Thai cuisine — not by modernising it for trend’s sake, but by helping the world understand its depth and diversity.”
Written by
The MICHELIN Guide
Dining and Cooking