You’re driving down Bergen Avenue, dodging the usual Jersey City traffic, and if you blink, you’ll miss it. It's just a storefront. It doesn't have the neon flash of a downtown bistro or the curated "industrial chic" look of a Hamilton Park brunch spot. But Prince and I Jersey City is arguably the most interesting culinary experiment happening in the city right now.
Most people walk in expecting a standard pad thai. They leave talking about the chef’s philosophy on spice and why the "I" in the name matters just as much as the "Prince."
It’s small. Intimate. Some might call it "no-frills," but that’s a lazy descriptor. It’s intentional. Chef Thitiwat "Prince" Patchimsiri isn't trying to build a franchise; he’s trying to feed you like you're sitting in his own kitchen. Honestly, in a city where dining is becoming increasingly corporate and predictable, this place feels like a rebellion.
What is Prince and I Jersey City Actually Like?
The first thing you need to know: this isn't a "sit-down and linger for three hours" type of establishment. It’s a kitchen first. The space is tight. It’s cozy. Sometimes it’s chaotic in that way only the best neighborhood joints are.
Chef Prince brings a pedigree that doesn't quite match the humble exterior. He spent years in high-end kitchens—we’re talking Michelin-level environments and New York City institutions like The Tyger—before deciding to do his own thing in the McGinley Square area. That’s the "Prince" part. The "I" represents his partner, and together, they’ve created a menu that is aggressively authentic.
Don't come here looking for "Thai-fusion" where everything is dampened down with extra sugar to appeal to a generic palate. They don't do that. If a dish is supposed to be spicy, it will make you sweat. If it's supposed to be funky with fermented shrimp paste, it’s going to be pungent.
It's honest food.
One day you might find a classic khao soi that rivals anything in Queens. The next, it’s a specific regional curry that Prince felt like making because the ingredients looked good that morning. This fluidity is why the locals obsess over it. You aren't just ordering off a laminated sheet; you're eating what the chef is excited about.
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Why the McGinley Square Location Matters
Location is destiny in the restaurant world. Had Prince and I opened on Newark Avenue near the Grove Street PATH, the prices would be 30% higher and there would be a line of influencers taking photos of the wallpaper.
By choosing Bergen Avenue, the restaurant remains accessible. It serves a mix of St. Peter’s University students, long-time residents, and foodies who are willing to travel "up the hill" for something real.
The Menu Staples (And What to Avoid If You’re Scared)
Let’s talk about the Khao Soi. It’s the unofficial mascot of the menu. It’s a Northern Thai coconut curry noodle soup. The broth is rich, deep, and layered. You get the crunch of the fried noodles on top and the tender bite of the egg noodles buried beneath.
- The Spice Levels: When they ask how spicy you want it, be humble. A "medium" here is a "Thai medium," which translates to "bring a glass of milk" for many casual diners.
- The Crispy Pork: If it’s on the specials board, get it. The texture is a masterclass in heat control—crackling skin and fat that melts.
- The Curry: They make their pastes. You can taste the difference. There’s a brightness from the lemongrass and galangal that pre-packaged tubs simply cannot replicate.
Is there a downside? Sure. Because it’s a small operation, wait times can be unpredictable. If they get a rush of delivery orders, your dine-in experience might take a minute. If they run out of a specific herb or protein, that dish is gone for the night. That’s the trade-off for fresh, non-commercial cooking.
The Chef’s Background: From High-End to Home-Style
Chef Thitiwat Patchimsiri’s journey is worth noting because it explains the precision of the food. He didn't just learn to cook from a family recipe—though those roots are there—he trained in the rigors of professional French and international techniques.
This shows up in the "back-end" of the flavors. The stocks are clear. The cuts are uniform. The balance of salty, sweet, sour, and spicy (the four pillars of Thai cuisine) is calibrated with a level of expertise you usually only find in restaurants with white tablecloths.
He’s often seen behind the counter, wok in hand, flames leaping. It’s dinner and a show, but without the pretension. He’ll talk to you about the ingredients if he has a spare second. He’ll tell you why he uses a specific type of chili or why the lime juice has to be fresh-squeezed right then.
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Dealing with the Logistics of a Small Shop
If you're planning to visit Prince and I Jersey City, you need a strategy.
First, check their social media or call ahead. Their hours can sometimes shift based on staffing or private events. Because they are a small team, they prioritize quality over "always-on" availability.
Second, parking on Bergen Ave is... an adventure. If you’re coming from downtown or out of town, consider a rideshare or the bus. It saves you thirty minutes of circling blocks looking for a spot that isn't a hydrant.
Third, bring an open mind. This isn't the place to ask for "no fish sauce" in a dish where fish sauce is the literal backbone of the flavor. Respect the craft. The "Prince" knows what he's doing.
A Contrast to the "New" Jersey City
Jersey City is changing fast. Luxury towers are popping up everywhere, and with them comes a specific type of polished, corporate dining. You know the ones—the places where the menu is designed by a marketing firm.
Prince and I is the opposite of that.
It feels like the Jersey City of ten or fifteen years ago—gritty, authentic, and driven by personality rather than profit margins. It’s one of the few places left where you feel like your money is going directly into the hands of the person who cooked your meal.
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There is something deeply satisfying about watching your food being prepared five feet away from where you’re sitting. You hear the clank of the metal spatula against the wok. You smell the garlic hitting the hot oil. It’s a sensory experience that a delivery app can never fully capture.
The Future of the Spot
There are always rumors about expansion. People want Prince and I to move to a bigger space, maybe open a second location in Hoboken or Manhattan.
Honestly? I hope they don't.
The magic of Prince and I Jersey City is the constraint. The smallness allows for a level of quality control that disappears once you start managing fifty employees and a massive floor plan. Right now, every plate is essentially a signature from the chef.
If you haven't been, go. But go because you want to taste what real Thai food—unfiltered and unapologetic—tastes like. Go because you want to support a local business that puts flavor above branding.
How to Get the Best Experience
To truly appreciate what they’re doing, don't just order the Pad See Ew and call it a day. While their classics are great, the real gems are in the regional specialties.
- Ask for the Chef's Recommendation: If Prince is there, ask him what he’s excited about today. Often, there are ingredients he’s sourced that aren't even on the main menu yet.
- Try the Crab Fried Rice: It sounds simple, but the way they handle the delicate crab meat without overcooking it is a testament to their technique.
- Go During "Off" Hours: If you want to chat or have a more relaxed meal, 3:00 PM on a Tuesday is your best bet. Friday night is a gauntlet.
- BYOB Rules: Check their current status on this. Usually, a crisp, cold lager or a dry Riesling pairs perfectly with the heat of their curries.
Jersey City has plenty of places to eat, but it has very few places that feel like a soul-project. Prince and I is exactly that. It's a reminder that the best food isn't always found in the most expensive zip codes or the flashiest buildings. Sometimes, it’s just a guy in a small kitchen on Bergen Avenue, making the best curry you’ve ever had.
Actionable Next Steps for Your Visit:
- Check the current "Specials" board: This is where the most authentic, seasonal dishes live.
- Verify hours on Instagram: They are more active there than on their official website regarding sudden closures or new menu drops.
- Order the Khao Soi: It is the benchmark by which all other Thai soup in New Jersey should be measured.
- Be patient: Good food takes time, especially when it's made to order in a tiny kitchen. Give yourself an hour for the full experience.