Laotian pop-up blows up

Joi Simmaly, the driving force behind pop-up restaurant and catering company Spicy Joi Lao Food, cuts a striking figure. Tall and lean with a chiseled jaw and defined biceps—one of which is ringed by a tribal tattoo, he frequently sports a tank top while advertising his company, the better to show off his guns. He often tops off the look with a black cowboy hat and mirrored sunglasses.

On a warm day in the deep South Sacramento parking lot of Restaurant Anh Hong Bo 7 Mon, Simmaly chats with families and hands out menus at his monthly pop-up, working the line, which often swells to a wait of an hour or more. The hosting restaurant also serves a mix of Lao and Vietnamese food, and it offers up its space, including beverages and seating for the patrons.

The Spicy Joi Lao menu is filled with rustic fare that reflects the greatest hits of Laotian cuisine: fatty Lao sausage laced with lemongrass; an addictive, cilantro-heavy crispy rice salad studded with soured pork; and of course the quintessential Lao dish, papaya salad. The latter is made to order with a mortar and pestle by a team of smiling family and friends, including Joi’s wife, Noelle Simmaly. Each patron can specify the level of desired spice and funk, controlled by the addition of fresh chilis and padaek—chunky, fermented Lao fish sauce.

Although papaya salad is perhaps the most iconic Lao dish, Simmaly says he’s a “nut job” for jeow, a spicy dipping sauce with many variations. He uses his great-grandfather’s 120-year-old recipe, which was passed on to him by his mother, from whom he learned to cook at the age of 6.

His family emigrated from the northern Xiangkhouang province to San Francisco in 1981, when Simmaly was 4. They lived for a short stint in Stockton with an aunt who had sponsored them, and then moved to Modesto, which Simmaly considers his hometown despite having moved at least 20 times since then.

Simmaly has experimented with “suit-and-tie”-type jobs in real estate and finance, but found them unfulfilling. He would come home from a day at work and cook for three hours, and he garnered more happiness in the kitchen than the office. Although he had assimilated into American culture as a child, he is very passionate about nurturing his connection to Laos through cooking traditional dishes.

“I believe the cultural aspect of it and the vibrancy of the food culture are the part of the culture worth preserving,” he says. “These second-generation kids are not cooking as much, they are highly assimilated, which is not a bad thing. But to just completely ignore our vibrant culture and our food culture … it’s worth preserving. Later in life, they will look back and remember those flavors.”

In 2011, upon the advice of a Lao fortuneteller, Simmaly spent three days in a Buddhist monastery. It profoundly affected him. After leaving, he searched for a Laotian charity to support and became involved with the Jai Lao Foundation, a nonprofit that builds schools.

His wife Noelle is the sister of one of the founding members, and they connected over Facebook when he messaged her about the desserts in one of her posts. Noelle, who emigrated from Southern Laos as a child, is an accomplished chef and baker in her own right; they were married in 2013.

Joi and Noelle are both committed to giving back to their community, and they often make their Bomb Platter appetizers for charity events. They are also burgeoning social media stars: 6,000 Facebook followers tune in for their playful videos revolving mostly around the delicious feasts of pun pa (glazed catfish) or aw moo (pork stew) that Joi cooks for “wifey” Noelle.

Their social media savvy and heartfelt passion for the cuisine likely account for the strong response to their pop-ups, which invariably sell out in Sacramento. The couple live in the Bay Area, but they’re currently searching out a Sacramento location for some type of brick-and-mortar establishment—whether it will be catering or a restaurant is currently up in the air.

Sounding a bit weary from the grind of events, and the “many weeks, many hours, many people” it takes to prepare for each one, Simmaly muses about the support for Spicy Joi Lao food in Sacramento.

“I never imagined it would be the way it is now,” he says. “It’s overwhelming. I’m very humbled by it, and that’s why we are looking for opportunities to be a fixture in the area. … Our best supporters and the people who love and appreciate the food are in Sacramento. So we are taking the next step.”