Byline: Jody Hanson

Saunter through the massive doors, which may require using both hands if the doorman happens to be elsewhere, and take some time to survey the massive room that is both a bar and an art gallery. Built in 1903, it’s French colonial with Chinese influences. This historic building has reinvented itself a number of times – a warehouse, office, family residence – and been preserved in its original state.

Antonio Lopez de Haro and Gisela Salazar Golding, both from Venezuela, met in Shanghai in 2006 and have been friends and collaborators ever since. Three years ago they moved to the Kingdom. In true international style, they managed to marry South American with Mediterranean food and then make it a ménage with a pinch of Asian flavours.

Slide up to the bar and order a drink, like the mojito that uses homemade ginger syrup instead of sugar. Original cocktails ($4.50 to $5) focus on Asian accents with innovative tweaking, but the classics are also available. Beer comes in at $2.50 for Angkor to $7.50 for Moa Noir. Single-malt enthusiasts can order Laphroag at $5 or 21-year-old Glenlivet Archive at $21. Bar snacks are $4 to $7, but don’t eat too much because a gourmet feast is waiting upstairs.

The paper menu, which changes every six months, is a walk down foodie lane. Chef Gisela, with 13 years in the kitchen, brings a versatile approach to her art. “I like to be creative and play with flavours. Fish is particularly good for this.”

The appetisers/tapas offer a variety of choices: seafood (red tuna tartare with wasabi emuision, $9.50); meat (marinated lamb skewers with mojo rojo chili sauce, $7.50); vegetarian (pastelitos, pastries of cheddar cheese with fig confit, $5). The obvious solution is to go with friends so that you can better share.

Soups and salads have their place. How about the roast onion and parmesan cream with sautéed mussels and green asparagus ($6.50)? Or the marinated chicken and crouton salad with roquet and crispy bacon ($7.50)?

Move on to the mains. What does our chef suggest? Hard question, but she comes up with paella negra, the black ink which comes from the calamari ($28). This is baked, so a 30-minute wait is required, which is a perfect time to imbibe a bit of wine. The house white is Cloudia de Vallformosa at $4 a glass or $21 a bottle. Another choice is Pewsey Vale Riesling at $32.

The chef’s meat recommendation was Australian beef cheek. It’s braised for 12 hours in a mustard a l’ancienne and served with sweet potato puree ($19). A bottle of Scottbase pinot noir ($59) goes well, but if it is a third-or-so bottle, go for the very drinkable house Norton Malbac at $4 a glass or $21 a bottle.

Todd, my dining companion and photographer, gently dabbed his napkin at the corner of his mouth, pushed back the plate and announced: “This truly is world-class dining.” Agreed.

Tepui @ Chinese House, #45 Sisowath Quay (corner Street 84); 023 991514.

At Sophath’s the approach is simple: do what you do well and keep it simple. On offer is rice soup with chicken or fish (6000 riel). The main dish, however, is num banh chok – traditional Khmer noodles – with chicken or fish curry (6,000 riel or 9,000 with bread and extra meat) and prohok, traditional Khmer fish (5,000 riel).

Along with the last two dishes comes a tray of herbs to rip up and add to the food. “I don’t know what they are called in English,” Vanny tells me. Neither do I because gardening and I don’t get along. The unnamed greenery brings out the flavour of the curry and topped up with the green chillies escalates it to the near-inferno temperature I like. Among the herbs sits a bowl of pickles and slices of lime; condiments of spicy sauces grace the middle of the table. Available beverages include a few soft drinks, Angkor beer and fresh sugar cane juice. Got it? Good because that is the entire verbal menu – and there isn’t a printed one. Three choices of dish make it easy for even the most indecisive of diners.

To find this local eatery, go to the Cambodian-Vietnamese Friendship Monument and look West. Then head towards the pink plastic chairs and the silver-coloured tables. Sophath’s is about half a block from my apartment and I’ve become a regular. My hardest lunchtime decision is whether to have the fish or the chicken. While the rice soup is okay, I prefer the curry or the prohok with the herbs.

With the park and Sothearos as a backdrop – remember the capital is not known for its green spaces – it is reassuring to see some grass. Besides the predictable – but as spicy as you want to make it – food, Street 7 is a quiet place to watch the local people go about their daily business. And a chair at Sophath’s provides voyeur legitimacy.

The tuk-tuk drivers on the corner gossip and play cards as they wait for the next fare. Across the street are a couple of drink carts where the woman saves the cardboard for the ajay, who ply the streets with their pull-carts.

Right next to the portable toilets in the park is a family who live under a rather up-market blue tarp. The people look after the toilets and do some of the gardening for the park. Grandma and the child stick close to home. A man sleeps in the hammock, protected from the midday sun by a leafy tree. The digs are getting better all the time and a little shrine has been set up.

Who eats at Sophath’s? Students from the nearby university, office workers and people who live in the neighbourhood. Only the occasional tourist wanders in after visiting the Royal Palace. It doesn’t get much more local than eating at Sophath’s and watching Phnom Penh go by.

Sophath’s, corner of Street 7 & 264.

Pulled, plied and pulverised by hand, the noodles materialise before your very eyes. The young chef from Takeo province smiles as he stretches the dough as far as he can reach. Then he twirls it into a curl and slices off what he needs to put into the pot of boiling water. Even if the food wasn’t wonderfully good, the production performance at David’s Fresh Noodle on Street 13 is more than worth the entry price.

The choices – listed on a big plastic menu that sways in the gentle breeze outside – offers the noodles in soup, fried or cold. What caught my attention and turned me into a regular, however, were the dumplings. Jiaozi in Chinese, gyoza in Japanese or perogies in Eastern European speak, these steamed or fried dough-filled concoctions hit the spot. Good peasant food that sticks to the middle, rather than the ribs.

While the dumplings are in the cauldron, a plastic bowl with enough garlic to ward off all the vampires in Transylvania appears. Add a personal formula of chili and soy from the condiments tray in the middle of the table and the dipping sauce is ready. The price varies, depending on the filling, from $2 for vegetarian to $2.75 for seafood. Noodle soup with pork dumplings comes in at $2.50, and the squeeze of lime adds a tasty touch.Those wanting traditional Khmer food can consult the regular menu: curry for $3.50, chicken or fish amok for $3.90. Western food die-hards can tuck into a burger with bacon and cheese for $3.50 or a shrimp basket for $2.90.

David’s – named after the owner’s eight-year-old son – is truly a family operation. The kids get involved and deliver menus then retire to play computer games at the next table. The restaurant opened about a year and a half ago and may yet expand to a sister operation in Siem Reap because the food formula seems to work.

Sam Bath, the father of this fourth-generation Chinese family, was born in a poor rural area in Takeo province. Now that his situation has improved – he also owns a car and deals in real estate – he is involved in the Spirit of Cambodia, Tom Village Project. This small operation is in a remote area and the project does what it can with the money it gets from Australian and Portuguese sponsors.

Pictures of the school that teaches foreign languages, how to use computers and sewing decorate the restaurant walls. Older students come into Phnom Penh to learn how to cook and, judging from the noodle production, they are doing well. While learning skills that will help them get a job, they live with the Sam family.

Next time you’re strolling down Restaurant Street, stop in at David’s and enjoy the dumplings. And don’t forget to ask more about their charity work and how you can get involved.

David’s Fresh Noodle, #213 Street 13.

The tree was there first, so it stayed while Jenny and Patrice built the restaurant around it. It cuts into the seating space during the rainy season, but they figure the green is worth it. “When people in a Lexus drive up and ask if we have air-conditioning I point to the tree,” says Patrice, “Air-con is expensive and we would have to increase our prices.”

Who do they want to attract? Beatles fans (three of their albums play non-stop) who want to eat spectacular Khmer and European food. Patrice, born in France, refers to himself as a European cook and is inspired in the kitchen. From time to time he ventures out of his domain to personally check whether folk are enjoying his food. Jenny – waitress, cashier, manager and owner – runs the front operation. Her first language is Khmer, but she is also fluent in English and French and will soon add German to her polyglot portfolio.

A meal at L’Orchidee starts with a cold, wet towel. Could anything be more refreshing than wiping your hands and mopping your neck on a hot, sweaty day? Next comes the complimentary spey chrok, a cross between Ukrainian sauerkraut and Korean kimchi. The pickled cabbage perks up your taste buds with a hit of vinegar.

According to David, a dedicated regular, the chicken amok is “like a party in your mouth”. It follows a traditional recipe Jenny got from her grandmother. Mirka, from Slovakia, adds that the food is: “Beautiful. Really tasty and perfectly spiced: not too much, not too little.”

The menu lists the prices in riel and offers small and large portions. Highly recommended is the amok fish served in a banana leaf (18,000 riel; 27,000 riel) and fried chicken with lemongrass (14,000 riel; 21,000 riel). Carnivores can tuck into the lok lak – fried beef with onion, tomatoes and a fried egg (16,000 riel, 24,000 riel) – or the French style filet in cracked Kampot pepper (32,000 riel). Dessert hounds will drool over the crème brulee (8,000 riel).

Want to try a truly local dish? Order the cow’s tongue (1,800 riel; 2,700 riel) or the duck feet salad with glass noodles (12,000 riel; 15,000 riel). According to Jenny, “Khmer people really like cow’s tongue and we slow-cook it for hours.” The bar has what you want and there’s a focused wine list. Non-tipplers can imbibe fresh coconut (4,000 riel) a smoothie (8,000 riel) or soft drinks.

“We aren’t going to get rich quickly because we want to build up relationships,” Jenny confides. “People are important and we want them to come back and to bring their friends. We want our customers to stay with us forever.”

L’Orchidee, #82 Street 464; 010 998123.

The clear bright eye of the sea bass stared up at me. On the other side of the counter, the chef reached for the whole fish. His knife flashed in the kitchen light that bounced off the pots and pans as he skillfully sliced it into fillets. How did I want it done? Grilled, please, with the lemon aspen vinaigrette.

The beauty of the recently launched Fish Market buffet at the Sofitel is that you pick the seafood you want and then you watch it being cooked. Choices seem to go on forever: sea bass, grappa, crabs and clams are sourced locally; the oysters are from France; the octopus and tuna from Japan; the langoustines and prawns from Vietnam and the salmon from Norway.

The adage ‘You wouldn’t eat here if you could see the kitchen’ doesn’t apply to the open stoves where the production process is part of the dining experience. As well as cooking, the white-hatted chefs are performers who flip and stir and drip sauces across the well-presented plates. Their culinary acts add a theatrical note to the evening. Blue-and-white-striped sailor types clear the dishes as people saunter back for the next course. Like a well-run ship, the dining room at La Coupole sails along smoothly.

If you aren’t a seafood fan, don’t worry because there are other options, including a pasta section, meat offerings, salads and cheeses. The choice of bread cuts across all types and grains. The dessert station is so tempting you will have to promise yourself  you’ll go to the gym every day next week to make up for being excessive. No shortage of food choices and to eat your way through it might take a week.

“This buffet is absolutely amazing,” offered Todd, the photographer and my dining companion. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. The prawns were unbelievable.” Despite consuming a hefty portion, he sauntered back to the dessert station three times. “The chocolates are exquisite.” True. Bite-size dark chocolates that squirt the liquid centre in your mouth without being too oohey-gooey sweet.

The ambience at La Coupole makes you want to hang around for the evening. The dining room has a high ceiling, spaciously placed tables and various food areas. No rush; no hasty decisions. Pick, nibble or tuck right in, depending on the course.

The Fish Market is an ideal place to take someone you want to impress or to celebrate your special family whatever. Reservations are recommended for large groups so they can be accommodated. Plan on making an evening at the Fish Market an ‘event’. Expect to pay $38 per person, whinh includes a glass of white wine.

La Coupole, Sofitel Phnom Phen Phokeethra; 023 999200.

When I asked Adrian if I could see the menu, he handed me an airmail envelope. Caught in the headlights, I obviously looked a touch stunned. He smiled and explained that in Spanish, ‘menu’ is carta – the same as the word for ‘letter’ – so they decided to do a double innuendo and deliver the choices in that format. And a good idea it was, too, because the offerings change daily to reflect what is available at the market. What is on offer on Tuesday may not be there on Wednesday, so never worry about same-same at Quitapenas (pronounced key-ta-pa-nes, it translates as ‘take away your sorrows’).

The modus operandi? Wake up early, go to Central Market to get the freshest of the fresh, figure out which dishes to offer, print the menu at 4pm and open the doors. The menu is short and snappy and – like a good letter – never more than a page and a half.

Fortunately, Joaquin – the master chef behind it all – has identified some signature dishes you can count on. Leading the list are the goat-cheese balls with caramelised onion that I raved about for days after the opening. Okay, okay so I confess to stalking the waiters carrying trays with large white spoons. Also included in this select niche of constants is the pisto manchego with hiroshima oysters, codfish in raspberry aioli and the American beef tenderloin with fresh Roquefort and oxtail sauce. Insider tip: ask for a bit of bread to soak up the sauce drizzled across the plate of duck liver with port sauce. It was enough to make me revert to sucking my thumb.

Moving on from the menu obsession, the bigger picture at Quitapenas is tapas, wine and the lounge. Tapas – the only choice – are small dishes that beg to be shared and they range from $5 to $10. Depending on how hungry you are, expect to pay roughly $10 to $20 per person or $20 to $30 if you opt to imbibe some accompanying wine. On the topic of wine, Adrian notes: “We have wines from around the world, not just Spain, but Australia, New Zealand, America and France. If you are looking for a versatile choice I would recommend Canepa Reserva Privada Sangiovese-Carmenere at $26 a bottle.”

When you finish eating, go upstairs to the lounge to digest and relax. A cut-and-paste of private spaces, each of the three rooms opens onto the balcony.  Sit back and enjoy the DJ and the vinyl music. Yes, that’s right. Real records. The type that were around before MP3s, cassettes and even 8-tracks. Classic.

Final comment: this food may not be organic, but it is close to orgasmic.

Quitapenas, #14b Street 264 (corner of Street 19); 088 8222880.

“I think I feel a cholesterol attack coming on,” stage-whispered my friend Antonio Pineda, actor, musician, poet and general man-about-town. We were standing at the door of the recently opened Bistro Corner and Kelvin Lemishka was telling us about his evolving menu.

First up was the penne with spicy Italian sausage, sundried tomato and artichoke. Next was the cheese toast spread made with cheddar and Danish blue. The bread is home-made, of course, as is all the food at The Bistro Corner. By the time he got to the pepper steak with a lashing of Swiss cheese and whiskey sauce, Antonio and I looked at each other and groaned softly.

We had just eaten our way through the weekend all-you-can-eat buffet that runs from 8am to 2pm and costs $4.50. After scrambled eggs and sausages and toast and perogies (dumplings of unleavened dough), the mere thought of more food was overwhelming. But we would be back. Nothing on the menu is over $5, so it’s an affordable eatery.

Kelvin is a fourth-generation Ukrainian chef who hails from Alberta. For the geographically challenged, that is plonk in the centre of Canada – read ‘in the middle of nowhere’ – and one province over from where I was born. Since my Norwegian grandmother lived in a Ukrainian village, Kelvin and I speak the same food language: perogies, borsht, verekeki, kublisah, petihere.

From this Eastern European base he introduces a fusion with Greek, Italian, Khmer and Filipino dishes. Combinations that don’t sound like they would work in fact do: take perogies with Italian fillings, for example. Or how about pork adobo with a cabbage roll rather than rice? And the beer-marguerites. Careful, though: the Cambodian beer and tequila come in equal measures and this concoction is best classified as downright dangerous.

“It is all about the quality of the ingredients and making things from scratch. Take our maple pork sausages, for example. I grind the meat myself and use real maple syrup. We plan on setting up a kurobuta (Black Berkshire pig) farm. It will keep us supplied with the best gourmet pork in the country. The French fries are cut by hand. Our bread is baked on the premises and follows a recipe handed down from my grandmother.”

Having run restaurants in Calgary, Hong Kong and New York, Kelvin has the kitchen in his blood. He wants to get The Bistro Corner up and running and then step back to concentrate on other business projects. The plan is to train  Khmer staff. Somaly is his manager and he plans to set up a profit-sharing plan. “Give the staff a vested interest in the business. They will see that when it makes money they do, too. Simple.”

If you’re going to waddle up to The Bistro Corner weekend buffet marathon for seconds or thirds, wear pants with an expandable waistline. Those perogies like my grandmother used to make are tasty and you will keep going back for more.

The Bistro Corner, #63 Street 172; 097 2617875.   

Standing at Do Forni, a ristorante Italiano, at 11:30 on a Friday morning with a flute of Prosecco in hand I smiled. My darling friend Anthony – a senior psychiatrist in Sydney – once quipped: “Hedonism and decadence come naturally to you, don’t they?” It was an apt observation and I have been quoting him ever since. And in true hedonistic style, I held out my flute for a top up. Prosecco is a single-grape sparkling wine. Like Champagne, it is now name-protected and must be grown in the Fruili-Venezia Giulia or Veneto areas of northeast Italy.

Andrea Molinari is the new executive sous chef at the Sofitel Phnom Penh Phokeethra. He has been in Cambodia less than a month and already he is putting his Lombardy stamp on the Italian cuisine at Do Forni.

“I don’t cook with tomato sauce,” Andrea confides with an air of disdain in his voice. “It masks the taste of the food. I prefer that the flavours come through.” Andrea is no stranger to the large, open space at Do Forni. In the kitchen even before he was out of nappies, Andreas had a mother who cooked for 10; early on her son chopped things and ran errands. A natural in a chef’s hat, his career has taken him to the Sheraton Hotel in Abu-Dhabi and the Berjaya Hills Hotel in Kuala Lumpur.

[quote align=”center” color=”#999999″]“I don’t cook with tomato sauce,” Andrea confides with an air of disdain in his voice. “It masks the taste of the food. I prefer that the flavours come through.”[/quote]
On to the decadent brunch. First up was chopped salmon that was about three minutes old, topped with what looked like green caviar. Andrea explained it was actually little beads of cucumber to contrast the flavour. Next was Andrea’s signature dish that won a gold medal in Italy in 2003: risotto with melon, shrimp and Gorgonzola. The five at our table ate every bite and wondered how we might wade through another two courses. I was beginning to wish I’d worn trousers with an expandable waistline, a handy banquet-survival tool I’d picked up when I lived in China. There, one never knows when the food will stop coming.

The sea bass was done to perfection. Light and beautifully seasoned, it provided a perfect balance for the risotto. Then a cup of tiramisu, generously sprinkled with chocolate and graced with a ladyfinger, appeared. I hate to admit that I couldn’t quite polish off the tiramisu; next time I will wear those expandable trousers. The food, the bubbly and the service added up to an epicurean experience to rave about.

Insider’s advance notice: foodies, mark July 1 in your diary. Andrea’s ambitious undertaking is Five Steps Around the World: dishes from South America, Europe, Africa, North America and the Asia Pacific. Each has an accompanying wine from the continent. Andrea is also going to appeal to the five senses, although after a sneak preview of the menu the only food ‘sound’ I could find was Popcorn Bombe Alaska.

Do Forni, Sofitel Phnom Penh Pokeetra, Sothearos Blvd; 023 999200.