Some people have to pass rigorous tests before you fully trust their skills: it really helps to have an accountant who's been certified, and the Harvard diploma on your doc's wall should ease your fears when he asks you to cough, until you remember he's an orthodontist. For a Thai resto that's already proven itself, hit up Siam Rice.
Dropped in the former Spyro spot and retaining some of the old joint's spartan charm (minus the weird piano guy, plus some Asian kitsch), Siam's the effort of a Thai woman who spent years in Bangkok plying the family trade of creating delicacies that're all the rage in street markets, more than solidifying her stateside cred, although her Chris Quinn jersey didn't hurt, either. The menu's beyond vast, carrying both Japanese and Thai classics plus some off-beat selections: you can get slurping with soups like miso and Thai faves Tom Yum and Tom Kah, before moving onto fried stuff like Cheese Maki (a fried spring roll w/ melted cheese & sweet chili sauce inside), and the family specialty, a catfish salad in which the fish is finely shredded, fried until fluffy, and drenched in fish sauce/lime juice/chilis spilled from a martini glass -- a job your dry cleaning bill suggests you could excel at. Entrees bring it with noodle classics like Pad Thai, Singapore Noodles (skinny pad Thai w/ chili powder), and Pad See Ew (a sweet, fat pad Thai); house specialties like deep fried whole red snapper or boneless half duck, each with sauce choices like ginger-pineapple, chili-basil, sweet & sour, or garlic-black pepper; and a dish with steamed shrimp, lobster, scallops, and mussels in a foil wrapper called the Ginger Seafood Pouch -- also a needling nickname The Professor had for his island-mate's midsection once she stopped working out, and continued to not sleep with him.
There's also Japanese action like lobster teriyaki, thin-sliced tuna or steak tataki (both served cold with ponzu sauce and scallions), an assortment of classic sashimi and maki, and an app of baked squid rings stuffed with salmon and asparagus called Tiger Eyes, which you could've sworn your orthodontist flashed you right before he gave you the gas.