This may be Ian Chalermkittichai’s first restaurant in New York, but his namesake Kittichai, in the boutique 60 Thompson Hotel in SoHo, has all the trappings of a New York celebrity chef franchise, from the David Rockwell design to the servers in tropical pajamas.

At the intimate bar, surrounded by very real-looking fake orchids submerged in cylindrical glass vases, bartenders carefully extract lemongrass innards to make natural straws for pricey cocktails.

A special “Watermelon Cooler” ($13) one night was a gorgeous pink concoction made with vodka, Grand Marnier, and watermelon puree, topped with Champagne. While it certainly tasted of watermelon, it had no other discernible flavor. A “Ginger Lemongrass Highball” ($11), made with Cointreau, fresh lime juice, and gin, however, displayed the balance necessary for a perfect cocktail, between sweet, sour, acid, and bitter.

Adherence to balance is evident throughout Mr. Chalermkittichai’s menu, and it is achieved with varying degrees of success (although, oddly, all of the serving bowls are off-balance, or at least appear to be thanks to asymmetrical sides on practically every piece of pottery).

Small plates and sharing are encouraged by the menu, which has both a “Thai tapas” and an “appetizers” section. On my visit, these were also encouraged by our very slick waiter, who urged us to over-order and upsold me on wine choices at every turn.

We began with the Thai tapas, which included beautiful, crispy jasmine-scented rice crackers served with a bowl of relish consisting of shrimp, chicken, and coconut milk that was creamy and sweet, with the slightest echo of cilantro in the background ($6). A similar amalgam of chicken, dried chilies, and coriander (cilantro seeds) was served in a bowl alongside a pyramid of empty tartlet shells ($6).Though the tartlets were flavorless, once filled with the savory-spicy chicken they proved the perfect mode of transport for the lightly sauced mixture. Tender, lightly fried fish cakes were quite good, too, paired with shaved cucumber and red onion chutney ($9), as was a “Northern-style” seafood soup composed of mussels, prawns, scallops, caramelized shallots, and straw mushrooms in a deceptively clear but powerfully flavored fish stock ($10).

The tapas were followed by appetizers, with the arrival of a banana-blossom salad that tasted mostly of artichokes kissed by a rather delicate roasted chili vinaigrette ($11). The Thai marinated beef salad with Chinese long beans and roasted sticky rice was deliciously salty on the beef side, but the shortened long beans and rice combo got lost in the shuffle, rendering the dish out of focus ($12). Crisp rock shrimp with Thai eggplant ($11), on the other hand, was on target, the focus being on perfectly fried shrimp and a complementary chili-lime sauce. The best starter of all was the oddest sounding: chocolate back ribs marinated in Thai spice ($9). The Thai spice, it turns out, included apple butter and A1 steak sauce for a glaze, and the chocolate came by way of a judicious dusting of cocoa powder – a fantastic addition to the fall-off-the-bone ribs.

Main courses included an exemplary preparation of black cod braised with shitake mushrooms, lime, and coriander; the flesh of the cod tasted as if it had been caramelized before sitting in the savory steam bath ($22). Chiang Mai imported honey was used to glaze a somewhat gamey-tasting sliced breast of duck, but the micro bok choy that accompanied it was fantastic, tasting meatier than the duck – and not the least bit gamey ($21). Braised short ribs with green curry and sweet basil ($20) were perfectly fine, but, like the watermelon cocktail, didn’t taste like a composition as much as separate parts.

Side dishes confirmed my suspicion that Kittichai’s small plates are more interesting and better executed than many of its entrees. The coriander-and-ginger-scented jasmine rice ($5) was exactly as sticky as it should have been and smelled wonderful. The long beans sauteed with lime leaves and chile peppers ($6) were great, too.

And that’s where I’d end the meal, just as I would at any real Asian restaurant, where desserts are not part of the culture. Desserts here fuse traditional notions with Thai flourishes, none of which convinced me to broaden my repertoire. The flourless chocolate cake and cherry compote ($8) was dry and weirdly savory, tasting of dried tea leaves. A frozen white chocolate and jackfruit parfait ($8) with tropical fruit salad tasted like a meringue, which is basically flavorless. The prettiest but strangest of all was the tapioca pudding with iridescent green and red pearls ($8).To be honest, it tasted fine, but like my slick waiter, I couldn’t take it seriously.