Pom Thaï’s long-awaited May reopening in Ibiza feels like the revival of a beloved island ritual — the kind that locals whisper about and seasoned travellers guard like a secret. After a dazzling first winter in Courchevel 1850, the cult Thai restaurant slips effortless
ly back into its natural habitat: the warm, late‑night pulse of the White Isle.
There is a particular kind of glamour that Ibiza does best — not the polished, over‑curated kind, but something looser, more instinctive, threaded with music, art, and the promise that the evening might take you somewhere unexpected. Pom Thaï has always understood this rhythm. Since opening in 2014, it has been the place where dinner stretches into midnight, where DJs drift in after sets, and where regulars return year after year because it feels like home, only better dressed.
The restaurant’s founders — French restaurateur and wine devotee Johnny, and Thai head chef Pom — built Pom Thaï around a simple idea: food that sparks conversation, a room that encourages lingering, and an atmosphere that feels like a party without ever trying too hard. Their Ibiza outpost has long been a magnet for the island’s creative crowd, a place where the playlist is as carefully curated as the wine list, and where the terrace hums with the kind of energy that can’t be manufactured.
This summer, the experience unfolds once again on Carrer de Cala de Bou, where guests drift first through the restaurant’s boutique — a treasure trove of fashion and lifestyle pieces that echo the brand’s aesthetic — before settling into a dinner designed to be shared, tasted, passed around, and enjoyed with abandon.
The menu remains a love letter to contemporary Thai cuisine, bold in flavour and generous in spirit. Signature dishes return in all their sensory glory: the Kwyteiyw Neux, a slow‑braised oxtail and beef cheek creation that has become something of a legend; the Moo Van, caramelised pork lacquered in a black mushroom sauce; and the ever‑vibrant Som Tam Thaï, a green papaya salad that delivers the perfect balance of freshness and fire. Even the Toung Tong shrimp dumplings — golden, delicate, and dangerously moreish — feel like tiny celebrations in themselves.
What sets Pom Thaï apart is not just the food, but the way the evening unfolds. There is no rigid structure, no sense of being hurried along. Instead, the night moves in waves: a cocktail on the terrace, a table filled with dishes that demand sharing, a bottle of wine chosen with care, and finally, the slow shift into late‑night drinks as the room grows louder, looser, more alive. It is dining as theatre, but without the pretence — a place where the island’s nocturnal soul comes out to play.
For those who discovered Pom Thaï amid the snow‑dusted glamour of Courchevel this winter, the Ibiza reopening offers a sun‑soaked continuation of the story. The same community, the same spirit — only now with the scent of sea air and the promise of long, warm nights.
Pom Thaï’s return last month is more than just a restaurant opening its doors; it is the unofficial start of summer for those who know where to be when the inimitable island begins to wake up. And for anyone seeking a dining experience that blends flavour, atmosphere, and a touch of magic, this is the place to begin.
