Good No Thai! customers are astute when it comes to the art of purchasing No Thai! food. They scoff pretentiously at those they overhear pondering what a restaurant called No Thai! would serve (“Why would a restaurant make a point of telling people what they don't serve?”). They smile to themselves when novice customers contemplate the meaning of the question mark following “medium” on the menu’s list of spice levels. (Though to be fair, “medium?” isn’t the best assessment of the spiciness it stands for.)

The whimsicality of No Thai!’s misnomer, casual use of punctuation and foreign cuisine make it the perfect place to grab a deliciously filling meal while feeling totally indifferent about how hipster, indie, scene, urban or bohemian you look (or whatever else you youngsters are currently striving to be these days).

For those who claim they judge restaurants based on food quality and aren’t concerned with their image: You’re not fooling anyone. In all seriousness, though, two remarkable qualities of No Thai! cuisine keep customers satisfied and ensure return visits.

First, No Thai!’s food smells almost better than it tastes, and it tastes great. If you’re low on cash, you can get roughly the same satisfaction from standing outside the restaurant and enjoying exotic scents as you can from actually indulging in its flavorful dishes.

But No Thai’s best achievement lies is its ability to create meals that survive collegiate conditions. Surprisingly, the week-old No Thai! leftovers lying in your refrigerator will taste just as good after two minutes in the microwave. Thank goodness for large portions, take-out boxes and those newfangled radiation machines.

More hip than Jimmy John’s, but void of Bubble Island’s predominately freshmen patronage and mysterious food-like substances (what are those bubbles made of anyway?), No Thai! is the best eatery on South University.