Many friends who have visited Thailand have told me about this place in the pavilions on Jana Pawła because they all say the same thing: “It tastes exactly like the food I ate when visiting Thailand!” or “It is the greatest Thai restaurant in Poland!” Naturally, I had to check it out for myself.

There are a lot of Thai restaurants in Warsaw, and for me, I’m used to a certain standard based on what I have eaten outside of Thailand. I do have a bias against places that make Pad Thai overly sweet, like something from a jar, without going through the steps of making it properly with fresh ingredients. On the other hand, I have had amazing Pad Kra Pao in some places, which made me eager to put this restaurant to the test.

From the outside, MADAMe Thai looks very generic, with a red sans-serif sign on a white background—giving it a distinctly Polish “biało-czerwony” aesthetic. But walking through the door is like stepping into an aromatic teleportation device, instantly transporting you to the streets of Bangkok. The open kitchen, positioned right at the entrance, feels like walking into a family home through the back door, where you’re greeted by a quick glance up from the stove. The clashing of woks and the rhythmic chopping are enticing, immediately prompting me to order.

The handwritten menu board behind a Thai auntie-looking woman lists all the staple dishes, almost as a reminder not to forget to order mango sticky rice for dessert. The homemade spring rolls are also tempting, as is the daily special—one I’d never heard of before: morning glory. The anticipation is overwhelming, and my senses are heightened as I wait to taste what so many have called the best of the best.

I order from the lady of the house, who is super polite but hesitant about making my dish too spicy. Maybe she doesn’t want to kill me, or maybe too many people have complained before about the heat level. Regardless, I go full Rambo-masculine and assure her that I can handle it.

Walking to the back, I pass a row of shelves that resemble a grocery store or a bunker supply station for surviving a zombie apocalypse. But I’m not here to shop—I’m here to eat. I take a seat under a funny sign that reads, “No WiFi, talk to each other.” It has that endearing, motherly “I told you so” energy, which makes me chuckle. Around me, diners are doing exactly that—talking, interacting, and sharing their impressions of the food. A couple across from me seems completely in love with their meal, their faces reflecting sheer satisfaction. It dawns on me that this mom-and-pop restaurant is a gem—like many of its kind—because the people running it are on the frontlines doing what they love, with their reputation as their livelihood. More often than not, this dedication pays off for the casual diner.
I sit beneath an open skylight as my pork Pad Kra Pao arrives, trailing a fragrant cloud of spice. The matron of the house delivers it with a smile, having carefully added the peppers in sauce—still concerned it might be too hot for me. Like a loving auntie, she encourages me to try a little at a time. One spoonful in, and I immediately pour the rest of the sauce over my rice, mixing it with the perfectly seasoned pork and the crispy fried egg. I start calculating how many more bites I can savor to make this meal last as long as possible.

I truly enjoyed my visit to this little slice of Thailand on Jana Pawła and will be returning again and again—determined to check off every dish on the menu. Hopefully, next time, I’ll be joined by the friends who first told me about this place, so they can share their own memories of Thailand—brought back to life, one bite at a time.