James Syhabout’s homey chicken.

James Syhabout doesn’t need a recipe — this stew’s just like mom used to make

Facing a pile of woody lemongrass stalks, tiny round eggplants, Thai chiles and chicken, James Syhabout flashes a smile.

“I’ve never made this before, actually.” Wait, what? “Don’t worry!” he laughs, seeing my expression. “I’ve eaten this chicken stew a million times. I know what it should taste like. So we’ll just cook our way there.”

Were it someone else offering me these assurances, I’m not sure I’d believe them. But Syhabout is the chef-owner of three Oakland restaurants — a fine dining spot, Commis; the more casual the Dock at Linden Street; and Hawker Fare, an homage to the home-style Thai and Laotian food he grew up eating, served in the same spot where his mother once operated a Thai restaurant.

A second outpost of Hawker Fare, and Syhabout’s first San Francisco restaurant, opened on Valencia Street earlier this week.

He’s already proven he can cook his way there.

He sets the mood with Thai pop music, then begins by pounding an aromatic mixture of lemongrass, sliced shallot, Thai chiles and garlic in a monstrous mortar that once belonged to his mother. She raised her family in Oakland, but returned to Thailand two years ago.

“Maybe I should call her and ask her how she makes this,” he half jokes, before realizing that it’s the middle of the night in Bangkok.

The dish in question, a chicken stew with vegetables, thickened with rice, is served in both Laos and Thailand. Syhabout’s family comes from northeastern Thailand, a couple hours from the Laos border; that proximity means the cuisines bleed into each other. A version of the stew, made with pork ribs in place of chicken and other vegetables, depending on what’s on hand, is a popular home-style dish in both places.

After Syhabout briefly sautes the pounded mixture, he adds the chopped chicken and water, along with two types of fish sauce to give the stew its savory spine. The eggplants go in and simmer for a bit, then the cabbage and long beans. Suddenly, Syhabout realizes he’s forgotten to turn on the rice cooker, a mistake he can’t forgive himself for when we sit down to eat the stew.

The chicken meat still clings to the bone but has gone soft and supple; the addition of soaked, pounded sticky rice has thickened the fragrant broth just slightly, and the vegetables still retain some body and crunch.

Syhabout takes a bite. “At Commis, I focus on innovating, experimenting,” he says. “At Hawker Fare, or when I cook Thai food at home, I’m soulsearching, cooking with instinct.”

He pauses, lifts another spoonful of stew to his mouth.

“This tastes right, like I remember. Tastes like home.”