I am of course opposed to elitism in every form. The very soul and purpose of LTH Forum is likewise opposed to it. Everything about this site is dedicated to the very idea of generous sharing of tips and experiences. There is no room here for snobbery, for oneupmanship, for "I ate something you can't have, na nana na na." As the text explaining the LTH name on our new business cards will shortly say, [i] "LTH stands for 'Little Three Happiness, a Chinatown storefront which one of the site's founders thinks is the best restaurant in Chicago. Others happen to disagree, but the point of the name isn't to honor one restaurant it's to pay tribute to the little happinesses waiting to be discovered in restaurants all over the city, and to honor the spirit that seeks to share them with strangers online."
Now let me tell you about what I had at Spoon that isn't on ANY secret menu. Let me tell you how we ascended to the FOURTH level of secret menus at Spoon Thai, and you can't. Probably. Maybe. Na nana na na.
To recap, at Spoon there is the first level, the regular menu. Second level is the "Tribune" menu, that is, a sheet offering some of the dishes which were discussed in the Chicago Tribune writeup where Spoon got four forks. Though called Secret, this menu is available to any person savvy enough to ask for it, and contains several outstanding dishes. You could do worse than eat your way through it, to be sure.
Next, at the third level, comes the "Gary" menu. Initially to get this one Gary was challenged by Chai to a duel of swords atop a mystical peak (located about three blocks away by the used car lot). Gary's prowess must have impressed Chai, for he gave him the menu, containing many more Thai dishes, and allowed him to place it on his website*. So it, too, is no longer secret, but is accessible to all. (Sometimes it's a little hard to get it from the waitstaff, so best to have your own copy.)
* See the Useful Stuff Thai Menus area.
But little did we know that there was yet another level, hidden. So when seven of us gathered for an impromptu lunch and ordered the usual retinue of standout dishes-- Thai fried chicken, pork neck larb, papaya salad, banana blossom salad, sour catfish curry, beef nam tok, etc.-- we had no idea that we would suddenly find ourselves bidden into a mystic realm where we had never stepped before: Staff Lunch.
Specifically, three-quarters of the way through our meal, Wanna came out with a dish of white noodles, fish balls, pounded dried shrimp, coconut milk and chopped pineapple, ginger, garlic, chilis, etc. "This is a special dish. This is what I had for lunch," she said, setting it down. And then she spoke the fateful words: "You can't order this. Not on menu."
Not on menu. It was like having the infinity of the Copernican universe flung open to our settled, Ptolemaic minds-- daring us to withstand the existential terror of knowing there is a land beyond all menus, which must remain forever irretrievable, beyond human ken. We ate it gratefully, somberly, the jokes stopping for a moment as we tasted the strange and provocative mix of sweet and fishy and spicy, knowing it would never be ours again.
Do we now brag that we had something you will never have? A bit, yes, but soberly, sadly, because we know that we will never have it again either-- and that each of us is capable of achieving such a moment if we put the effort into becoming not only loyal customers but genuine friends of a favorite restaurant. So let us be not elitists but humble pilgrims, grateful for having been offered one more glimpse into the infinite variety of wonderful food available-- or sometimes, NOT available but offered anyway-- to the adventurous.
P.S. I've been after Gary for a long time to write the definitive Spoon recap for LTH. He promises it soon, so I promise it publicly now to turn up the heat on him.