Thip Khao
Naem khao, the crispy rice salad tossed with fermented pork and peanuts, sets Thip Khao apart from the Thai rooms around it: this is a Laotian kitchen first. Larb and sticky rice round out a menu built for sharing across a table, and the Columbia Heights dining room handles groups without losing the specificity of the cooking.
What to orderNaem khaoLarbSticky rice Book a table Call DirectionsFull review & visiting detailsRead the full review & visiting details
Laotian cooking on its own terms
Naem khao arrives as a crispy rice salad, fried rice balls broken up with herbs, peanuts and sour fermented pork.
Larb is the Laotian minced meat salad built on lime, fish sauce and toasted rice powder rather than lettuce and crunch.
Sticky rice is the hand-eaten counterpart to larb and naem khao, meant for scooping rather than sitting beside the plate.
Thip Khao is Laotian, not Thai, and the kitchen holds that line even where the menu might get filed under the wrong heading elsewhere. That distinction matters on a strip of Columbia Heights where Central American and Ethiopian rooms already do the work of naming their own food correctly, and it sets the terms for how this room should be read. Naem khao is the dish that keeps coming up, crispy rice tossed with fermented pork sausage, herbs, peanuts, lime; it is a textured, sour, funky plate that has little to do with the sweeter, more familiar Thai food most Washingtonians grew up ordering. Larb, the minced meat salad built on fish sauce, lime and toasted rice powder, shows the same commitment to sour and funk over sweet.
Sticky rice arrives as the plain, correct counterweight to both, meant to be pinched and used as a utensil rather than eaten as a side starch. The kitchen runs at a clear register above the neighborhood's counter-service pupuserias and taco spots, with table service, a full bar and a menu built for ordering several plates across a table rather than one entree per person. That format, along with the moderate pricing, makes it a natural fit for groups, and the room has built a following among people who live nearby and treat it as their regular higher-end option rather than an occasional splurge. Friday and Saturday nights get tight without a reservation, a sign the room turns tables briskly once it fills.
For a corridor that runs mostly informal, Thip Khao occupies a different slot: dressed-up enough for a celebration, but built around a cuisine, Laotian, that Washington still doesn't see nearly as often as its Thai, Vietnamese or Ethiopian neighbors. It rewards diners willing to order dishes they haven't had before instead of defaulting to noodles.
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Washington, DC, DC, 20010
Start with naem khao and a larb, split family-style with sticky rice for the table, and call ahead or arrive early on weekends since the room fills fast once service picks up.
