Look, the whole best-ness industry is fraught with definitional problems. Take Thai dining. You want a nice, sit-down, how-about-I-pick-you-up-at-seven-and-we-get-some-Thai-food meal, Baltimore has plenty of fine options. You and your date can sip cream-laced iced tea in the just-gaudy-enough-for-ethno-authenticity décor of any one of a half dozen dining rooms around the city. Any. That's just it--none of them up and kicks the ass of the rest. And neither will any of them make you forget the Thai meals you've had somewhere else, in D.C. or Boston or Los Angeles. On the other hand, wherever we roam, in Baltimore or beyond, we always think fondly of Thairish. The Mount Vernon food counter and takeout joint is cramped and underdecorated. There are no oil paintings or gilt chairs. The menu is short. If you dine in, the food arrives on scruffy plastic cafeteria trays. But the meals that proprietor Kerrigan Kitikul bangs out on the roaring Thairish range stick with us. The sundry panangs are soul-warming. The pad thai, tossed from pan to plate before your eyes, is a feat of alchemy--substantial and light, soft and crisp, all at once. The crab cake or catfish specials more than make up for the limited regular menu. You wouldn't schedule a first date at Thairish, no. But you'd pick up dinner for someone you love.

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