A glowing red sign welcomes us to Little Saigon. The cityscape outline on the sign looks vaguely European but never mind. Inside the restaurant has a glossy veneer, right down to the extensive menu with over 150 items. Soups, entrees, chicken, beef, seafood…any which way you want it, you can probably find it here. Mongolian beef? I am starting to doubt Little Saigon’s authenticity.
I am intrigued by the table setting. A spoon and green chopsticks form a cross on a red serviette. A meeting of East and West? Some sort of feng shui? Am I supposed to be thinking about Christmas? I don’t know if it is the feng shui or my hangover but my bowl keeps ending up on one side of me.
We are asked if we want ice with our soft drink. Steph and I both have a moment where our minds panic about ordering ice in an Asian country. Hang on we’re still in Melbourne.
The waiter (manager?) is at best suggestive, at worst pushy. He shows us the daily specials and recommends the san choi bao and dumplings, his logic being that they had been approved by a table of young white girls behind us. Does our appearance scream ‘give us bastardised Asian food’? At another point he tries to talk us into drinks. Yes a coke is just what I needed. Wine? Mmm wine, muses Luke, slowly bending to the power of suggestion but is quickly shut down by the rest of the table.
The sparkling plasma screen is distracting. An Asian version of ‘Celebrity Dancing’ is soon replaced by Michael Jackson music videos. I find myself mesmerised by the scale and theatricality of these mini films and start pondering the role MJ has played in the evolution of contemporary music culture. Hmmm but back to the food…
Number 27 this week is crab meat and asparagus soup. There is one word that screams to mind when tasting this soup: gelatinous. It is very crabby. So crabby in fact that Penny deducts half a point for the crab shell she finds. The asparagus is surprisingly white and suggests tinned product.
The rice paper rolls are dry and even with the satay dipping sauce, difficult to swallow. Andrew is unfazed, announcing he is “a sucker for prawns” and happy gives them a high rating for the juicy prawns inside.
Our daily special choice (yes ironically the dumplings) are flavoursome. They are oddly triangular, reminiscent of wontons. Apparently fried, means deep fried, unlike the plump Chinese pot-stickers we are used to but the steamed ones have a delicate pastry and succulent filling.
The pho is good but the other mains we order are rather unmemorable, unlike the spelling mistake. ‘Sizzling chicken with honny and black pepper’, anyone?
We are stuffed, piles of dirty plates lay in front of us, the feng shui is all out. Why are we still talking about food? Buffalo wings, double fried chicken, prawns, curries. Luke is trying to unload a George Foreman grill and breadmaker. Penny starts clearing the space in front of her, unable to take the mocking scraps of food any longer. It’s a sign that it’s time to bust a move but not before playing with the mystical, smoking fountain at the door.
Ratings
Beef Pho 7/10
Pork and prawn rice paper rolls 5.8/10
#27 (Crab meat and asparagus soup) 6.2/10
Daily special (Pork and prawn dumplings) 7.1/10
Average per person: $18
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