Rice. A bland, four-letter word that does nothing to reveal this Asian staple’s flavour potential. The coconut rice at Irrawaddi Myanmar Restaurant is a perfect example of how much more there can be to this seemingly simple dish.
On first glance, it’s your typical bowl of pristine grains, with a few touches of cashews and dried fruits to pique your interest. But it’s nothing heart-stopping. After all, this is Asia and we’ve all seen enough rice in our lives to completely desensitise us from the starch bowl. So it seemed a bit premature when my expert eating companion proclaimed that this dish was a game-changer.
I shouldn’t have been surprised since rice is fundamental to the Burmese food culture, but somehow I wasn’t expecting such a heavenly experience. To be honest, I didn’t know what to expect. Burmese food doesn’t exactly top the charts in terms of global popularity. From a country that endured some of the worst isolation in recent history it’s justifiable that they focused on human rights issues versus an international marketing plan for their curries. But with the first bite of savoury, perfectly prepared rice that gracefully held the nutty, slightly sweet coconut flavour in each morsel, I found myself thinking that maybe they should begin to.
We went on to try their fish curry, chicken biryani and famous tea leaf salad (lahpet thoke), which all rivaled the rice reaction, and led our waiters to give us sideways glances as we entered into a sustained state of food bliss. The fish curry has to be broken down into a two-part analysis: one being the effortless way the Cambodian snakehead fish fell off the bone and the second being the curry’s exceptional union of salty and sour flavours.
The chicken biryani was a testament to the successful fusion of such a multicultural country and another tip-of-the-hat to the versatility of rice, working as the base and soaking up the bright saffron notes. Though a traditional Indian dish, the Burmese interpretation usually uses fewer seasonings with the result being anything but inferior.
Rounding off the meal, in Burmese fashion, we finished the lahpet thoke and discussed it at length. With its textural elements of crunchy beans and peanuts and its distinctly earthy, tea flavour—offset slightly by the heat of julienned, pickled peppers and shredded ginger and the citrus from a squeeze of lime—we could easily understand why this dish holds such importance to the culture. Though the flavour profile seemed completely foreign at first, noting the unusual main ingredient of fermented tea leaves, we quickly suspended our allegiance to any preconceived rules for preparing a salad and simply enjoyed.
Though we weren’t as taken with a fishy tasting eggplant and a somewhat bland fried snack, we still felt as though we’d found Phnom Penh’s hidden gem of an eatery. Sitting inconspicuously on Street 334, Irrawaddi is an easy miss, but having been in business for eight years they’re obviously not relying on location to garner customers. The owner, Cho Cho, warmly greets every guest, always serving up more than just her country’s cuisine to whoever walks through the door.
Irrawaddi Myanmar Restaurant, #24 Street 334