Shauna Lyon: Rule-Breaking Thai Food at Uncle Boons, in Soho: The New Yorker So many Thai joints are the same old mix-and-match variety - noodles or curry, chicken or beef - and function as delivery systems for a few variations on one basic, albeit delicious, theme. At Uncle Boons, a subterranean den of wood panelling and curated kitsch, the married chef-owners, Matt Danzer and Ann Redding, who met while cooking at Thomas Keller's Per Se, diversify the repertoire. They decide what goes with what. Fried rice, for example, gets fresh crab - pillowy and sea-salty and comforting - and the deep-brown gravy of a massaman curry is made explicitly for tender beef cheeks. But on a menu full of earthy curiosities - like creamy chicken livers and pineapple cubes, served with sublime roti, and a smoked-catfish-and-pork spread that sounds horrible but tastes wonderful as a dip for market crudités - adventure is its own reward. First, there are shandies, betel leaves, and blowfish. Without a hard-liquor license, Danzer and Redding got creative with two drinks that are tailor-made to tame heat: a tamarind shandy (pomelo bitters make it taste like grapefruit beer) and the Hi-So, a galangal-lime-white-wine spritzer. For mieng kum, a common snack in Thailand, betel leaves are topped with mounds of dried shrimp, chiles, and toasted coconut, to be folded, dipped into a galangal sauce, and popped into your mouth. The spicy wraps, which are subject to the availability of betel leaves (these were from Florida), have a darkly vegetal crudeness and bring to mind a giant Thai caterpillar. Blowfish (yes, that blowfish, as in fugu, as in it can kill you) comes grilled, but it's only the tail, which, the waitress assures you, is not the poisonous part. Turns out it's just a mild white fish, best enjoyed alongside caramelized grilled octopus. Two innocent-looking dishes vie for the title of spiciest: yum kai hua pli, a chicken-and-banana-blossom salad (in coconut-milk dressing, with a slow-building, long-lingering burn), and the lamb laab (designed to set your mouth on fire, mixed with cucumbers and mint, which do nothing to help). The menu plays down the heat factor, and when one waitress took an order for both, she balanced wariness (I don't want to be blamed if you can't handle it) with daring (let's see what you're made of). In spite of the owners" serious culinary pedigree, Uncle Boons has a charmingly unpolished air. The dim lighting and the décor - Thai thrift-shop paintings of pretty ladies and hugging monkeys - add to the festivity, and for now the wait can stretch to an hour. Most people won't order the blowfish, but some will be pleased to discover that the garlic-and-soy frog legs taste a lot like fried chicken. ♦