In the West Village on Seventh Avenue South, where another restaurant once stood, it now smells of jasmine rice—not just a side dish, but the center of the plate. At Hommali, white rice is served free with every dish, and its aroma—light, floral, with notes of popcorn—immediately sets the tone for the whole meal. Three friends from Bangkok opened the place for this very rice: chef Chattchakorn “Benz” Khajornchaisan, manager Kritayanee “Air” Promsarin, and operations director Pichalak “Picha” Srigungvarl.
Hom mali is Thailand’s national rice variety, which grows best in the alkaline soils of the Thung Kula Ronghai region in the northeast of the country. There, the arid climate and special soil composition give the grains that very softness and persistent aroma that cannot be replicated elsewhere. In New York, this rice remains the main character: it is served with northern larb made from dry-aged beef heart with crispy tripe cracklings, with panang curry of beef cheeks, and with tom yum seafood cocktail.
In Greenpoint, Brooklyn, on McGuinness Boulevard South 55, another story—smoke and meat. Kirbee’s was opened by two Texas pitmasters: Chuck Charnichart from Barbs B Q in Lockhart and Johnny White from Goldee’s in Fort Worth. Their menu is divided into two parts: Charnichart’s Mexican-Texan accents (ribs with lime zest, spiced brisket, green spaghetti with poblano) and White’s more classic Central Texas style (brisket, turkey, potato salad, and coleslaw).
In Texas, smoking is not just a technique but a way to preserve meat in the hot climate while also giving it depth. Post oak, the local oak, imparts smoke with a slight sweetness and vanilla notes. In New York, the pitmasters switched to cabinet smokers instead of traditional offset smokers to achieve consistency, but they kept the same wood and spices. The result is meat with the same texture and flavor as in Lockhart or Fort Worth.
Both establishments appeared at a time when the New York scene is seeking authentic regional techniques, not just “fusion.” Hommali emphasizes rice as the foundation of Thai cuisine, while Kirbee’s brings the culture of queuing for smoked meat, where lunch is the main event of the day. Both projects rely on specific people who brought with them not recipes, but an understanding of why these ingredients and methods work only in a certain context.
In these new places, New York gets not just food, but pieces of soil and smoke from other worlds that now live here thanks to those who remember them and know how to reproduce them.
