Category: Food

The pace of an italian opera

If you are looking for a fast bite to eat, go somewhere else. The Opera Cafe is a place to imbibe the atmosphere – along with the wine – and enjoy the dining experience. Calm down, relax and let them take care of you. An enlarged Piano Shop card – complete with a keyboard, of course – strategically placed behind the fish tank is a strong indication that this space attracts artistic types. Once a month, local and international photographers descend on the venue for a brainstorming session. Daniel, the manager, is writing a book. The 15 videos that run include Cirque du Soleil. All very European, dahhhhhling. Terribly Italian, to be exact.

But what about the food? To give it a fast sum-up, the pasta is phenomenal and the service is impeccable. The made-on-the-premises gnocchi and ravioli are comfort food on a rainy night. Also perfect for a carb-loading before a Hash House Harriers marathon is the Bucatini all Amatriciana. Complete with tubular spaghetti, smoked bacon, onion, tomato sauce and pecorino cheese ($6.50), it provides the necessary energy to walk, jog or run across the finish line.

Check out the Picasso platter ($6) with two eggplant cakes, two potato croquettes and rice with supplli. And then there is the Carmen salad with lettuce, cherry tomatoes, blue cheese, bacon and croutons ($5).  Another healthy choice is the No Kill Burger. This vegetarian option is made with eggplant rather than beef ($5). Those longing for a taste of jolly old England can opt for the Baritono fish & chips ($6.50), but will need to bring their own copy of The Advisor to wrap it in. Khmer food fans can tuck into the Angkor fried noodles with beef or chicken ($4.50).  My recommendation, however, is to stick to the spectacular pasta.

As for drinks, a glass of Grappa Nonino ($5) is practically mandatory for a truly Italian experience. Those wanting something refreshing should try the Aperol Spritz ($6) to titillate the taste buds. There are, of course, the usual offerings of soft drinks, coffee, spirits and beer. The house red is Sangiovese and the white is Trebbiano ($3.50 a glass), both very Italian, but would we expect anything less?

Cocktail aficionados can check out the Opera, a combination of Triple Sec, orange and lime juice ($4), or the My Darling – hot milk, Nutella and Baileys ($5) – concocted by Daniel the book-writing manager for those with a sweet tooth. While we were at Opera Cafe, the sky opened up and a monsoon poured down. There was only one logical course of action: order another glass of wine and continue on.
Opera Café, corner of Streets 13 and 178 (opposite National Museum)

 

Nibbles from the northwest

Just under 300km from Phnom Penh, Battambang was one of those towns that I always wanted to visit but hadn’t yet braved the long bus ride. Friends remained adamant the food was reason enough to go and so last weekend I followed my stomach to sample what this town had to offer.

Straddling the Sangkae River, the town is easily traversed by bicycle. An early ride through the countryside was refreshing, glimpsing the morning rituals of the locals, having kids chase the bikes and stopping regularly to sample whatever was being cooked on the side of the road. Although the waffle lady decided to keep her shop closed that day (her fabulous coconut waffles sell out by 8am), a number of other local delights kept me very happy. One young lady was steaming small fluffy tubes of rice flour served on a banana leaf, eaten with palm sugar and freshly grated coconut. Always trust a line of kids, waiting patiently to cycle home with bundles of these sweet parcels.

The second highlight was the Chinese noodle-shop man, whose motto is clearly to keep things simple. This quiet man serves what I deem the best – and I mean THE BEST – dumplings in Cambodia. Sure I haven’t tried every dumpling, but these were unbelievably tasty. His small eatery could easily be missed: a simple Chinese restaurant tucked away on Street 2. When you order, out comes the dough, the fillings and flour and this maestro gets busy rolling and stuffing individual dumplings. Pan fried, they are served super crispy on one side, pillowy soft on the other. The garlic chives remain fresh, caressing the pork mince or egg (vegetarian option) and adding oomph and flavour. They are fresh and light, crispy and soft, and truly from the gods. The noodles were excellent, their uneven appearance revealing they’d been freshly pulled, swimming in a light broth with pieces of chicken and greens hiding underneath. Well worth multiple visits.

My final evening was full of anticipation as I dined at the newest kid on the block, the fabulous Jaan Bai restaurant. Meaning ‘rice bowl’ in Khmer, Jaan Bai is a Cambodian Children’s Trust (CCT) sponsored social enterprise that has the support of David Thompson from Bangkok’s famed Nahm restaurant. The head chef Mohm (a CCT-supported hospitality graduate) trained at Nahm, while Thompson himself recently visited to further train kitchen staff and attend the launch. This little restaurant certainly has great story, but what about the food?

The menu is heavily influenced by Nahm. Exquisite Thai-style dishes that get the taste buds buzzing. Following Thai tradition, some of the dishes can be spicy, however these are marked on the menu and the Jaan Bai folk are happy to tone down the chilli on request. The spicy pork salad served on betel leaves had flavours dancing on my tongue like a hot, fast samba, the perfect partner to their Green Orange Negroni.

Classic Kampot green pepper crab was reborn when cooked with chilli jam, giving the dish a lovely sweet, peppery flavour and ensuring every finger was licked clean. The Thai Green Kep prawn curry was generous in size, the prawns were cooked perfectly and as the dish was served the fragrance of freshly pounded lemon grass, basil and kaffir lime hovered over the table. I really wish I was able to try everything on the menu. The young trainees were energetic and always smiling and, given how reasonably priced the dishes are, Jaan Bai is on track to having many stalwarts in ‘the Bong’.

Lan Chav Khorko Miteanh, Street 2, Battambang (dumplings)|
Jaan Bai, corner of Street 1½ and Street 2, Battambang

 

The cartel connection

Grab a red marker and compose your own Mexican meal. Uno, dos, tres – or one, two, three, for unilingual types.
Uno: circle your main ingredient and the choices are beef barbacoa, shredded chicken, carnitas (pulled pork) or veggie. Once that decision is made, move on to dos and pick your delivery vehicle. The options include burrito, bowl, quesadilla or three tacos. The final instructions are the extras: black beans, lettuce, cheese, grilled veggies, sour cream and guacamole.

The final, final decision is the level of hotness that ranges from salsa fresca (mild) to roasted corn (hot). No choice there because I believe chili peppers should form the sixth food group, but just to be sure I scrawl ‘very spicy’ on the order form.

We order tacos and burritos to share. The tacos arrive almost before you can say: ‘Remember the Alamo.’ My dining companion and photographer notes they are subtle and tasty, but not spicy. When I order extra hot but get ultra mild, I pout. The thing with spice is that it has to be cooked in rather than dumped on, but what can be expected of a woman who cuts seven or eight red chilies into two scrambled eggs? The rice and beans – which don’t fall into the spice category – are simple and moist as they should be.

Matt Harp, the owner, happens along and we engage in a discussion about the evolution of Cocina Cartel. He is upfront about the operation: “I don’t have a mission statement. I just want to run a good Mexican place.” Fair enough, because the restaurant has only been open for about two-and-a-half months. “Rather than trying to do 25 things badly, we concentrate on doing three or four options very well.” Agreed: that is the sign of a good restaurant.

The ambience at Cocina Cartel doesn’t leave you feeling as though you’ve just landed in Tijuana. With the high ceiling, fans and straightforward decor, it’s clean, simple and doesn’t try to scream ‘Mexican!’ No senoritas with roses between their teeth dancing flamenco here. Not a cactus in sight.

What about the drinks? The standard alcohol and mixers are on the menu, along with beer, cider, soda and fruit juice. I go for a ‘Kidnapped In Jaurez: a combination of beer, tomato juice and tequila with a spicy kick.’

Our discussion reverts back to who considers what to be spicy. “I agree that we need to up the spice level so we may create an ‘inferno’ for the die-hards.” As Matt watches me shake the better part of a bottle of Tabasco into my drink, he adds: “But for renegades like you, we may have to include an additional charge.” True enough, the Tabasco likely cost more than the tequila.
Why come To Cocina Cartel? It’s an innovative, engaging place that’s evolving and listens to what customers have to suggest. Fun!

Cocina Cartel, #198b Street 19; 089 227182.

Simplicity & solitude

Simple food takes many forms in this world. Presentation can be fairly humble and even, to some, lacklustre, but one thing remains: regardless of the cuisine, there’s something remarkable and medicinal about simplicity and solitude in hearty dining. On an oft-dusty Street 155, just a few blocks down from the heat of the Russian Market and tucked back through a neatly groomed rock garden, is one of a handful of small Korean eateries, this one called Broom Tree.

Passing by a small cashier’s counter, you’re welcomed into a quiet world of clean white walls and black chairs, with white sheers on the large front windows. The stereo above plays a nice range of quiet classical music and the odd hymn as the patrons drink glasses of tea and cold water.

On my many trips here the greeting has always been warm, welcoming, so quiet is this tiny retreat. This is a place to collect your thoughts, have a simple hot meal, hydrate (bottles of cold water are on each table) and take a break from the blare and glare of the street outside. What always strikes me most about Broom Tree, speaking as someone who gladly takes the majority of her meals in solitary for the sake of her own mental health and yours, is how the personality of this café makes it a wonderful place to bring a book, study long division, or have a long conversation with yourself.

There is a feeling of no pity in being one’s own favourite dinner guest; there is a consistency and sobriety in the mood. This is a place to talk to yourself about that move back home to Toledo; what to do about this or that, or just be left politely to be and be comfortable while doing it.

The menu is small and precise, with a range of soups and something called a ‘Korean General Lunch’ which consists of about five dishes including kimchee and sweet pickles, a nice fish, a lovely pork belly dish and the standard rice. For less than five dollars this meal is fit for any general, Korean or otherwise, and to be frank could probably feed an entire platoon.

My favourite dish has to be fried pork cutlet, or as it’s called in my neck of the woods ‘a chicken fried pork chop with brown onion gravy’. The portion is also quite ample and, at four bucks, well worth it. When I put my mind to it I can eat like a half-starved lumberjack, but this dish is daunting: the other half usually ends up being hauled home. Like all good home-cooking, the pork cutlet is a blessed occasion when it arrives fresh and hot with a side of rice, a variety of pickles and really tasty coleslaw, but reaches its full saintly promise the next day in the company of two pieces of bread. This quiet lunch spot, though a bit out of the way, is something to warmly welcome in a town that keeps getting bigger, smaller and faster as the months go by.

Broom Tree, #55c Street 155, Toul Tom Pong I.

 

Friends in waiting

Ranked #1 out of 537 restaurants in the capital, Friends is a must-eat-at sort of place for three very good reasons: the food, the service and the project. Walk in and admire the ambient greenery, the art-decorated walls and the jazzy atmosphere. Continue with the reassurance that ‘Our ice water is pure, our raw veggies are safe to eat and all our food is MSG free.’ Check out the menu.

The tapas rate highly. Chip lovers can tuck into the crispy zucchini and cheddar fritters ($4). How about the crispy shrimp wontons with sweet chili and lime dip ($5.25) or the stir fried chicken with mango and cashew nuts ($4)? Two fairly hungry people can expect to pack away three dishes.

For fresh-food types there’s lentil-and-roast-vegetable salad with goat’s cheese, tossed with Dijon vinaigrette ($4). Try the breaded fish burger with tartar sauce ($6.75). For the heartily hungry there is the 200g prime buffalo steak with all the trimmings ($15). If it’s too early for a frozen daiquiri, order a custard apple and coconut smoothie ($3).

The t-shirt clad wait staff are never far away. Face on it’s difficult to tell who’s who, but when they turn around the categories are ‘student’ or ‘teacher’. Fifteen-year-olds who want to work in the restaurant industry start off at the canteen out back, where the kids-in-residence are fed. There they learn basic kitchen skills and the importance of hygiene. The next rung up the ladder is to progress to Romdeng’s, a sister operation that serves Khmer food. Graduates move on to the international level at Friends. And by the time they get there, they have the necessary F&B industry skills in place. Foreigners who whine about the lack of service in Cambodia need to eat at Friends.

The young people working at Friends are part of Mith Samlanh, an organisation that works with former street children and marginalised youth. Offering food, clothing, shelter, education and medical treatment to more than 1,500 homeless children is no easy task. The kids in the programme range from newborn babies to 24-year-olds. In the early days, informal education is central. When they start school, students are outfitted with uniforms, bags and books. At 15 they have the option to pursue vocational training in cooking, welding, hairdressing, mechanics or electricity.

After your meal, stroll over to Friends ‘N’ Stuff next door. Shop for gifts made from recycled materials by the students’ families. Purchases help support the people who most need it, so buy generously and consider getting a manicure from the young trainees. Everywhere, there are smiles – which might explain why Mith Samlanh was voted one of the top 100 NGOs in 2013. To do your bit, eat there often and take plenty of your own friends along with you.

Friends, #215 Street 13 (near the National Museum).

 

Menage a trois

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.

 

House of the rising sun

We blinked and it happened. Like the teashops that pop up in every corner, the cafes that dot our town, there is no roaming about BKK1 these days without a new Japanese dive seemingly rising up from nowhere. And unlike the usual Japanese chain that serves a little bit of everything, these new haunts are reminiscent of little Tokyo joints, where just one specialised kind of Japanese cuisine is served. And oh, lucky, lucky us!

Toritetsu, Street 302 & 63

Unless you know exactly where to look, it’s unlikely you would stumble upon this gem. In a nondescript house on a quiet stretch of Street 302, you will have sped past Toritetsu a dozen times. Stop. Do go in.

The tiny grill by the front door is the only clue they serve yakitori – grilled skewered meat and veg – mostly from chicken parts. Skin, thighs, heart, gizzard, liver: grilled, glazed with Japanese flavours, skewered with veg. You’ll feel like you woke up in a Tokyo back street.

There are less than ten tables which fill fast and the speed of service is not for the famished, but if you’re up for long and leisurely and can manage a table on a weekend, consider yourself fortunate. Every stick is well priced at a dollar apiece. Try it all and ask for the special dipping sauce on the side.

Kazu, #2A Street 302

There are already a few Japanese/Korean BBQ places in hopping PP – think the ever-popular Uratei and less known Jin – but Kazu is definitely the most current. Just two months old and the offspring of a Tokyo restaurateur with its sparkling walls, modern interiors and state of the art copper grills, Kazu is already more inviting and infinitely more exciting.

Cosy black (p)leather booths fill Kazu’s white space, but what’s really interesting are its distinct grills, so different from the ones we are used to (those built into the tables). At Kazu, exhaust tubes hang from the ceiling, aimed perfectly towards a copper grill in every table. This is a winner: meats are charred perfectly, while the smoke and smell are kept at bay.

When we dined the only other guests were Japanese, who clearly knew their meat. Everything we tried was delectable. Short ribs were soft and tender, hanging perfectly marinated and so soft that a knife to slice the meat was superfluous.

Generous plates of US meat start at $7 while Japanese meat starts at $25. Lunch specials are a steal with most sets between $6 and $10.

Maru Shabu, #231 Street 352 & 63

Every new Japanese haunt is initially quite mysterious, but Maru Shabu proved to be the most curious of all. Good shabu shabu – a Japanese style of cooking where top quality beef, seafood and vegetables are boiled in flavoured broth – is not easy to find and we were excited by the promise.

Yes. Maru Shabu makes good on its promise to deliver top quality shabu shabu and much more. This was the surprise: Maru Shabu, the PP branch of a quickly expanding Korean chain, is actually a buffet that includes not only shabu shabu, but also many other thises and thats.

White, bright and with lovely decorative lamps, Maru Shabu is bound to become a lively lunch hangout. Weekday lunches have the best deal: for $12, you get a generous portion of sliced beef ($15 for seafood) to boil in your own pot on the table, plus unlimited access to an interesting buffet spread that includes seafood balls and noodles for shabu shabu, plus sushi, pizza and pasta, Japanese kebabs and dessert.

Despite it being a buffet, the meat and seafood plates for shabu shabu are limited to one serving, which ensures consistently good quality. Beef is fresh and soft, and a bowl of steaming broth is warm and comforting. We finished one generous serving quite satisfied, not needing any more… but ice cream from Blue Pumpkin, included in the buffet, was the icing on the cake.

Will that be Chicken or Fish?

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.

 

A sizzling new brunch scene

It’s about time for a city as dynamic and voracious as ours: we have woken up to the discovery of a whole new meal that though neither breakfast nor lunch is hands down more interesting than either and infinitely more satisfying than both. Brunch – we’re talking eggs fashioned into benedicts; perfectly ripened fruit in rich, velvety yogurts; fluffy buttery pancakes swimming in richly flavoured syrups with dollops of cream – is love for the insides, a song for the soul and arguably the most gratifying way to begin any weekend.

The Duck, Sothearos Blvd; 089 823704

It is difficult to imagine The Duck could offer more than just a slight change of pace, judging from its location on busy Sothearos Boulevard, but stepping in on a quiet Sunday morning is enchanting. The melody of Someone To Watch Over Me sweetly brings the air to life, a subtle light softly peeping in and casting a glow on the warm ochre interiors, gently waking you from a deep weekend slumber.

It gets better. The usual freshly squeezed juices are on offer at The Duck, but the Lychee Lime is a concoction so green, tart and fresh that it feels like you’re sipping it straight out of a garden. The cappuccinos are equally lovely, served in large, friendly bowls and perfectly brewed.

My favourite brunch ($5 per main course) dish is eggs benedict and The Duck’s version makes every other benedict seem dowdy and uncivilised. Moist, plump eggs are dressed with a light but tasty hollandaise, poised atop a handful of garden green spinach, bacon and muffin. Every ingredient is so ripe and fresh you’d swear there’s a farm where there should be a kitchen. The fresh corncakes are also a winner, a kind of pancake with subtle hints of southwestern spices, dotted with kernels that pop like pleasant surprises in the mouth. The pancakes are among the best in Phnom Penh, all light and fluffy; the syrup rich and buttery, wonderful with bananas and cream.

Public House, Street 240½; 017 770754

Twenty metres deep within a skinny alleyway off Street 240, Public House is the epitome of a true Phnom Penh find: a gem on a street one is initially doubtful exists. The surprise begins at the door, where relaxing hues of pines and mints enclose the loveliest – if cosiest – of spaces with about six tables plus stools at the bar, like the discovery of a secret watering hole at the end of a long journey. And it’s delightful to the end, with brunch fare so fine it might rival your favourite London gastro pub – and then trump that, as it did mine.

Weekend brunch at Public House is done in an interesting way. For $15 ($25 includes fruity alcoholic chillers), you can order any and all things from the brunch menu and the chefs will whip up a taster-sized portion, as you like it, when you like it. Ingenious.

The secret to Public House’s scrumptious fare is its perfect simplicity: perfectly fresh ingredients, perfectly seasoned, perfectly cooked.

Fruit salad — a colourful mix of ripe mango, banana, melon and apple, topped with creamy natural yogurt – smiles up at you from the bowl. Corn fritters, firm yet light pancakes, instantly transport you to the Southwest. Spices are distinctively flavoured, but don’t overpower the dish. What really makes you want to go back is the simplest offering of all: avocado toast with bacon, a stellar combination of three simple ingredients that, when together, sing the most enchanting chorus in your mouth.

Pangea Fusion Restaurant, NagaWorld; 023 228822

High rollers would do well to consider the Sunday Funday Brunch at NagaWorld’s Pangea Fusion restaurant. A cavernous dining hall, decked out in balloons and streamers, houses not only a miniature clown house complete with clowns, but also one of the biggest weekend buffets in the capital.

Themed service stations dot the vast ballroom, from pasta to Mexican to cold cuts, from fresh crepes and fruit to a truly devastating array of desserts (don’t miss your chance to dip into the pink chocolate fountain). Brunch alone will set you back $55, so it makes sense to plump for the $68 option which includes free-flow Moet & Chandon, cocktails, mocktails, house wine and soft drinks. And don’t forget to order a cab home in advance: driving or riding after such indulgence simply isn’t an option!

 

Flour power

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.