Chim by Chef Noom – A Luxurious Tasting of Thai Tradition in KL
Chim by Chef Noom — A Luxurious Tasting of Thai Tradition in KL
A Place That Whispers Grandeur
Hidden on the second floor of Menara TSLAW, Chim by Chef Noom feels like entering a private gallery, where each tray and table setting is curated for both the eyes and soul. It’s Thai fine dining sculpted with precision and reverence.
From Bangkok’s Stardom to KL’s Elegance
Created by the Michelin-starred Chef Noom — the same visionary behind Bangkok’s Chim by Siam Wisdom — this flagship in KL brings his signature storytelling through food to Malaysian diners.
A Tasting Journey, Not Just a Meal
The menu unfolds like chapters in a cultural memoir — each course is a dialogue between Thai street flavors, royal heritage, and modern mastery. Take “The Lost Recipe,” a 200-year-old royal tom yum rediscovered and reimagined, its balance of herbs and tang still lingers on my tongue.
The price tag reflects its rarity — around RM600++ per guest for the tasting menu. Private dining, ideal for special celebrations, starts at RM5,000 for six people.
Why I Was Moved
Atmosphere — refined, understated, and drenched in muted elegance.
Culinary Craft — each dish balances Thai tradition with creative plating and Japanese ingredients.
Emotion — it’s food that speaks history, culture, and innovation in every bite.
Details at a Glance
Location: L2-03, TSLAW Tower, 39 Jalan Kamuning, Imbi, KL
Price: ≈ RM600++ for full tasting menu
Reservations: Credit card guarantee required, business/smart casual dress code, no children under 12 (private rooms available)
My Last Thought
Chim by Chef Noom isn’t just a meal—it’s a moment suspended in time. It’s where heritage becomes tasting notes and history becomes heart. If you want Thai fine dining that resonates, this is your destination.
Warmly, Mike – capturing culinary moments at Onalulu.com
7 for 7 KL, Episode 1: Chim Brings the Heat (and the Soup Refill)
A night that started with dry ice and ended with a bonbon — Chim by Chef Noom delivered theatre and substance in equal measure.
Seated by a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the KL skyline, the evening opened gently with a passion fruit kombucha, a wobbly piece of lychee suspended inside it like a tiny surprise. From there, three amuse bouche bites set the tone: a crunchy, lightly sour tuile cup; a rice taco with crab and a whisper of fish sauce; and best of all, a cool capsicum cup with raw fish and flying fish roe, leek leading at first sip and a satisfying crunch of roe to finish.
Then came the Harima Oyster — and the table fog. A Hyogo Prefecture oyster, kaluga caviar, pickled Japanese cucumber, and chili mayo, served in a "shell" so convincingly squid-ink black I was certain it was real. Eaten by hand, in one or two bites, with dry ice curling out of the bowl. Pure theatre.
The Gai Tod surprised me most — deep-fried boneless chicken stuffed with enoki mushrooms, crispy yet remarkably subtle, with a chili mayo that had just enough kick. The betel leaf and papaya salad on the side brought the heat down gradually, almost gracefully.
By the time the Hang Wua Consommé arrived, I was sweating — and the kitchen had noticed. They quietly toned down the spice level for this course. Argentine oxtail, simmered 72 hours with barley, carrot, and watermelon radish, in a broth carrying ginger, chili, and galangal. It tasted like a warm hug — reminiscent of South Indian rasam, though it's actually a northern Thai cold-season dish. The oxtail collapsed at the touch of a spoon, the flavor so light I barely registered I was eating oxtail. I asked for a refill. That should tell you everything.
A guava sorbet and jicama palate cleanser reset things nicely before the mains: a flaky Tiger Grouper in a spicy sauce (bold enough that it slightly overshadowed the fish itself), and the showstopper — Green Rock Lobster (upgraded from river prawn) in a sweet coconut curry sauce, served alongside a mixed grain rice so fragrant with chili and herbs it deserved to be its own dish. I kept it separate rather than mixing it in.
Dessert leaned into a Thai-inflected tiramisu — ladyfinger, coffee, mascarpone, coconut crumble and coconut ice cream, finished with a delicate chocolate honeycomb tuile. To close, Thai Petit Fours: a chocolate-mango bonbon, a pandan dessert with lemon cream where the lemongrass note stood confidently on its own, and a sesame macaron with sesame cream.
Throughout the meal, the non-alcoholic pairing held its own: a frothy jasmine tea and pandan cocktail, a root beer-like cola and calamansi cooler, and a mint-coriander-curry drink that tasted, unexpectedly, like sugarcane juice.
Service was attentive without hovering, and the kind of place that notices when you're struggling with spice and quietly adjusts. A memorable night of Thai fine dining in the heart of KL.
Manesh Rao
in the last week7 for 7 KL, Episode 1: Chim Brings the Heat (and the Soup Refill) A night that started with dry ice and ended with a bonbon — Chim by Chef Noom delivered theatre and substance in equal measure. Seated by a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the KL skyline, the evening opened gently with a passion fruit kombucha, a wobbly piece of lychee suspended inside it like a tiny surprise. From there, three amuse bouche bites set the tone: a crunchy, lightly sour tuile cup; a rice taco with crab and a whisper of fish sauce; and best of all, a cool capsicum cup with raw fish and flying fish roe, leek leading at first sip and a satisfying crunch of roe to finish. Then came the Harima Oyster — and the table fog. A Hyogo Prefecture oyster, kaluga caviar, pickled Japanese cucumber, and chili mayo, served in a "shell" so convincingly squid-ink black I was certain it was real. Eaten by hand, in one or two bites, with dry ice curling out of the bowl. Pure theatre. The Gai Tod surprised me most — deep-fried boneless chicken stuffed with enoki mushrooms, crispy yet remarkably subtle, with a chili mayo that had just enough kick. The betel leaf and papaya salad on the side brought the heat down gradually, almost gracefully. By the time the Hang Wua Consommé arrived, I was sweating — and the kitchen had noticed. They quietly toned down the spice level for this course. Argentine oxtail, simmered 72 hours with barley, carrot, and watermelon radish, in a broth carrying ginger, chili, and galangal. It tasted like a warm hug — reminiscent of South Indian rasam, though it's actually a northern Thai cold-season dish. The oxtail collapsed at the touch of a spoon, the flavor so light I barely registered I was eating oxtail. I asked for a refill. That should tell you everything. A guava sorbet and jicama palate cleanser reset things nicely before the mains: a flaky Tiger Grouper in a spicy sauce (bold enough that it slightly overshadowed the fish itself), and the showstopper — Green Rock Lobster (upgraded from river prawn) in a sweet coconut curry sauce, served alongside a mixed grain rice so fragrant with chili and herbs it deserved to be its own dish. I kept it separate rather than mixing it in. Dessert leaned into a Thai-inflected tiramisu — ladyfinger, coffee, mascarpone, coconut crumble and coconut ice cream, finished with a delicate chocolate honeycomb tuile. To close, Thai Petit Fours: a chocolate-mango bonbon, a pandan dessert with lemon cream where the lemongrass note stood confidently on its own, and a sesame macaron with sesame cream. Throughout the meal, the non-alcoholic pairing held its own: a frothy jasmine tea and pandan cocktail, a root beer-like cola and calamansi cooler, and a mint-coriander-curry drink that tasted, unexpectedly, like sugarcane juice. Service was attentive without hovering, and the kind of place that notices when you're struggling with spice and quietly adjusts. A memorable night of Thai fine dining in the heart of KL.
Noemie K
a week agoEverything was perfect ❤️
Afzae Nizae
a month agoThe food was amazing I had the best wagyu in my life Tom yam was perfect The only let down was the gai tod. Sorry not a fan Overall 5/5
cheng guan tan
a month agoFrankie Lim
a month ago