The rain came down like it meant it—fat, warm drops rattling roofs and drenching the soil in minutes. No umbrella tonight; the shop was only three minutes away. Two gas burners hissed under giant woks out front, their flames licking with purpose. The place was called Pad Thai 50 Baht—easy to miss if not for the smell of caramelizing noodles cutting through the monsoon steam.
The cook had vanished, then rolled up moments later on a scooter like a fried‑noodle cowboy, arms loaded with bags of ingredients. No pretense here. Just two people—husband and wife—running a tight ship fueled by tireless motion and a chorus of scooter pickups. The printer on the wall never stopped; tickets kept spitting out orders for some unseen city beyond the downpour.
I ordered the shrimp Pad Thai and mussels on the side. While waiting, I crunched on cucumber, watching him toss noodles with a wrist that’s probably seen a thousand dinners just like this. Then, in a flash of steam, my plate arrived—banana leaf underneath, heat radiating like a warning.
Fresh lime, crushed peanuts, a quick stir. The mussels hit first: crisp edges, chewy centers, clean brine that tasted like the Gulf. Nothing fancy, just fresh and fried enough to earn respect. The Pad Thai itself was rustic—more umami than sweet, the tamarind hanging shyly in the background instead of leading the charge. Noodles slightly uneven in thickness, perfectly cooked. The shrimp were small, local, a couple still in shell—more work than reward.
But the mussels—those were the standout. Scooped with the noodles, they turned the dish into something unexpected. Honest food cooked hard and fast by people who don’t have time to philosophize about it. It wasn’t the glossy, sweet‑tamarind version you find in Bangkok’s tourist haunts. This was the local street brawler of Pad Thai—rough, smoky, a little uneven, but entirely real. Not perfect, but perfect enough on a wet night under tin and the soft orange wash of the...
Read moreI had the Pad Thai + Fried Mussels for 70 baht. The Pad Thai here is more like the Char Kuey Teow (Fried Noodles with Soy Sauce), with a slight tamarind sauce sweetness. The pad thai tasted great, without any spiciness, and with a zest of line juice.
You can adjust the spiciness with the red chilli flakes provided. I highly recommend adding the ground roasted peanut to the pad thai, as the roasted peanut flavor enhanced the overall enjoyment. You can smell that the ground roasted peanut is roasted and ground by owner.
The Fried Mussels uses the local mussels, with its freshness in taste and texture. The fried mussels batter is slightly too hard, which took away some of the crunch.
It is a little shop, comfortable for a simple meal.
Many locals are here for dinner, as well as many takeaways and deliveries.
Highly recommend for a local Thai...
Read moreAt first glance, 50 Baht Pad Thai might look a little unusual — it’s not your typical fancy restaurant, and you might even wonder if you’re in the right place. But trust me, don’t let appearances fool you. The moment you take your first bite, you’ll understand why this humble spot is a hidden gem in Krabi!
The Pad Thai here is absolutely incredible — perfectly balanced, flavorful, and cooked to perfection right in front of you. It's honestly some of the best I’ve ever had, and at just 50 baht, it’s a steal. Every dish is made with care, and you can really taste the love in the cooking.
On top of that, the service is so sweet and welcoming. The staff treat you like a friend, always smiling and making sure you’re happy. It’s the kind of place that makes you feel right at home, even if you're just...
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