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The first test of any Thai restaurant is whether or not the staff puts out chopsticks--Thais traditionally use forks. Thailand Cafe fails that test, and also compromises with the food to please middlebrow-American tastes and expectations. The peanut satay sauce is rich, thick and spicy, but the chicken it's served with is bland and dry; the summer rolls are a refreshing medley of crisp vegetables, mint, and mango, but are jarringly topped with fried jicama; and the dessert menu includes shamelessly inauthentic (but thoroughly enjoyable) fried ice cream. On the other hand, the jungle curry isn't shy about being spicy, and is sure to raise a sweat, though the lime leaves and galangal are almost non-existent, leaving what tastes like a black-pepper broth. A good choice is the drunken noodle--broad rice noodles with egg, chili, onion and basil--which gets the ideal balance of sweet, salty, sour and spicy just right. Appearance-wise, the decor follows the now-standard Asian-fusion MacBook aesthetic: Simultaneously retro and futuristic, bright hues playing off gleaming white plastic. Gone is the garish neon sign that once bathed this bustling East Village block in a sickly green light. — Michael Y. Park

Shrimp pad kee mao, $10