This one episode will give you a pretty good idea of what to expect from the Orchid Thai Restaurant: When I ordered kha prow, otherwise known as “Thai basil,” the chef forgot the basil.

I’d like to be able to say this was a rare oversight. But on this occasion, the chef denied that she had forgotten the basil, even though neither my server nor I could find any.

And on a previous visit, an order of Panang curry that promised eggplant and red bell peppers had neither — but it had plenty of white cabbage, of which the menu made no mention. And where was the lemon grass?

When I dine at a restaurant, I expect to get what I think I’m ordering. It is inexcusable for mistakes like these to have occurred on two consecutive visits.

Worse yet, the tall plastic glasses in which my companion and I were served Thai iced tea and coffee were visibly cracked and broken.

Orchid Thai has not significantly improved since its previous incarnation as the Angel Thai restaurant. A server assured me that when the restaurant changed its name in late April, in search of a new identity after closing a satellite cafe on College Way, it didn’t really change anything. The cook and the service staff are the same as before.

Change would have been a good thing.

Lunch for two

My dining companion joined me for a lunch at Orchid Thai. The restaurant offers a selection of 23 midday specials (served from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m.) on a very colorful menu, including not only traditional Thai dishes, but also Japanese teriyaki and yakisoba, and Chinese orange chicken and drunken noodles. Priced at a mere $7.95, these budget-priced dishes include a choice of soup or salad.

To start, we ordered an “Angel Wings” appetizer. A blend of ground chicken, cabbage, celery, carrots, yellow onions and glass noodles were rolled into de-boned chicken wings, which were then deep-fried to crispy and served with a sweet-and-sour sauce.

The flavor was good, but it was off-putting to find end-of-the-drumstick chunks of cartilage in two separate bites of the filling.

I followed with the soup of the day, described as coconut beef vegetable. Indeed, the broth had lots of veggies, including green beans, carrots, onions and especially cabbage. But if coconut milk went into the making of the soup, it was very little indeed.

My companion began with a simple salad. The mixed greens — not just iceberg lettuce — were fresh, but they were dressed with a watered-down peanut sauce that did nothing to complement the vegetables.

For her main lunch course, my friend chose pad thai with shrimp. As per the standard Thai recipe, rice noodles were pan-fried with bean sprouts, green onions and a bit of scrambled egg, then sprinkled with crushed peanuts. The noodles, she said, were pasty and flavorless — “barely palatable,” were her words — and she complained that “the salad had more peanut sauce” than the pad thai.

I held out hope for my Panang curry, typically a rich and creamy blend of red curry and coconut milk, fried (rather than boiled) with kaffir lime leaves and crushed peanuts. The one I was served was no thicker than my soup broth had been, with no more flavor of coconut. It was made with pork, as per my request, along with basil, green peppers and a lot of cabbage. But despite the menu description, it had neither red bell peppers nor eggplant, even though the latter vegetable was listed on a blackboard as a curry special of the day.

Plenty for dinner

My companion declined an invitation to return with me for dinner, so I visited alone, ordering three different plates from a selection of more than 60.

I began this meal with veggie fresh rolls, a standard at most Thai and Vietnamese restaurants. But here, the presentation was different than I’ve seen before: The two rolls were sliced into seven pieces each, then laid upon a plate as if they were sushi, with two dipping sauces.

I’m used to fresh rolls containing substantial rice noodles. These had none; rice paper was rolled around iceberg lettuce, basil leaves, shredded carrot, shrimp and a tiny bit of cilantro. They were fine and, yes, fresh, but I didn’t care for the overly vinegary sweet-and-sour plum sauce. The thicker peanut sauce was much more savory.

Larb gai is one of my favorite Thai dishes. Typically made with minced chicken, although other meats may be substituted, it also combines red onion and dried red chilies, basil and mint leaves. Some Thai restaurants present lettuce or cabbage on the side for wrapping. Here, it was served like a salad, on top of lettuce with two healthy sprigs of mint on the side. It was the best of any of the dishes I had at Orchid Thai.

It was my order of kha prow, which the menu subtitled as “Thai Basil,” that left me astounded. Here’s how the menu described it: “Choice of meats with sweet basil, chili, bell peppers, onions, carrots and garlic.” The dish had all of those — red and green peppers, yellow and spring onions, and sliced beef, per my request.

Never mind that the beef was very chewy; it was the total absence of basil that perplexed me. My server looked carefully and agreed. “Maybe she forgot,” she said of the cook. “I will mix for you.” She soon returned with fresh, but uncooked, basil leaves in the mix.

The cook insisted she had not forgotten the basil, I was told — “But I gave you more,” the server said.

Curious decor

The atmosphere at Orchid Thai, which hasn’t been altered with the name change, is curious if only because of the wall-length woodcarving of a pioneer railroad that hangs on the lava-rock south wall of the restaurant’s main room.

Perhaps it has something to do with the name of the small office complex in which the restaurant is central — the Whistle Stop Business Center. I was told only that it is a legacy of an establishment that occupied this space in the distant past.

Beyond that anomaly, decor in this wood-paneled restaurant is pleasant, if sparse. Seating is at booths, along both sides of the main room, and tables in the center of the room. Easy-listening Thai lounge music plays in the background. A second room with a view of North Division Street has large windows and Thai wall hangings. But given the name, wouldn’t it be nice to have fresh orchids on the tables?

Table service is very agreeable, although communication is a minor obstacle. And street access issues remain at Orchid Thai. Parking surrounds the office complex, but the nearest spots to this restaurant are on the far side from the main entrance, next to the Shepherd’s House shelter, and the main door is down a short corridor.

— Reporter: janderson@bendbulletin.com