The sultans of smallisimo have struck again. The place is Harry’s, and it’s the Norbert-Munns brother’s latest instalment to Bassac Lane, the capital back alley turned boozy-hip hangout. Downstairs the bar sells beer and wine and an eclectic mix of James Bond accessories: cufflinks, pocket watches, aviator shades. Upstairs is Harry’s martini bar, which serves the classic cocktail half a dozen ways, including a Chicago 1951 and a Winston Churchill. The former comes with gin-soaked anchovy-stuffed olives, the later with but a “glance” of vermouth. All are served in frozen glasses with a heavy-handed gentleman’s pour. Always shaken, never stirred. Because Harry would have wanted it that way. Harry’s Phnom Penh, Bassac Lane.