Category: Zeitgeist

The brothers behind Bar Sito have opened an aperitif room called Seibur, a tiny chamber that occupies the junction of Street 308 and a numberless side alley where the old ladies sit and gossip and shout at the barefoot kids who run past. Inside, the place feels a lot like the captain’s quarters of your yacht (you do own a yacht, don’t you?). Nautical-style bar stools surround a wood-and-steel table. Thick-cut Venetians obscure life outside and oversized Chinese globes illuminate the boozy warm interiors. It’s not a place to linger, but it’s not a place to miss, either.

Seibur, #34 Street 308 (open 5-11pm; closed Mondays).

 

If the homies on D-block could take over the chow hall it would look a lot like Cocina Cartel, the Tex-mex place behind the palace on Street 19. The walls are as pale as a Texas prison jumpsuit, the mason jars and black-and-white decor as loc’d out as any mid-range gringo eatery could ever hope to be. A 1964 Chevy Impala sits emblazoned across the mezzanine, a frightening Day-of-the-Dead skull with wild eyes adorns the north wall. The menu is just as terse: a three-step, circle-what-you-want affair with few choices. The options are burrito, quesadilla, taco and ‘bowl’, a vegetable-infested something-or-other designed for out-of-staters. Tex-mex snobs beware. Cartel might not clock San Antonio good, but it kills anything north of the Harris County line. All that’s missing is Shiner Boch and an image of the Virgin Mary.

Cocina Cartel, #198 Street 19; 089 227183.

 

The eighth-floor infinity pool at Patio overlooks Independence Monument and the new statue of Norodom Sihanouk. From 60 metres up, the bustle of Street 51 is hardly a murmur. At sunset, the breeze is soft and the poolside as calm and untroubled as anywhere in the capital. Patio opened just three months ago. The decor is urban chic, with a downstairs lobby decorated with traditional Cambodian musical instruments and an open-air restaurant on the seventh floor styled in dark hardwoods. The food is authentic Asian, the prices reasonable. And as the Saturday chill-out crowds are discovering, it’s the new perfect place to sonder.

Patio Hotel & Urban Resort, #134Z Street 51; 023 997900.

The menu at Common Tiger opens with a quote from junkie genius extraordinaire William S Burroughs: “There is no intensity of love or feeling that does not involve the risk of crippling hurt. It is a duty to take this risk, to love and feel without defence or reserve.” Maybe the quote is a prologue to the meal, or just some random cool shit that South African chefs say before they serve you a Warhol-esque interpretation of starch and crustaceans. In contrast to the mix ‘n’ matched chairs, minimalist interiors and five-star menu, Burroughs’ wisdom ices the experience with a certain middle-brow authenticity that might otherwise go overlooked (the chef with tattoos on his wrist helps, too). The menu is two pages. The first has only one sentence (tasting plate, $40), the second lists a half dozen short-time culinary experiences (the menu changes regularly). No. 2 — poached prawns, yellow curry and smoked potato ($7) — is a small serving on a big plate. But quantity hardly matters. As Mr Burroughs would most certainly tell you, a sack full of cheap junk isn’t worth the trouble, kid. Go for the quality every time.

The Common Tiger, #20 Street 294; 023 212917.

In the language of the Parisian bon viveur, pan’am means something like ‘someplace else’ and it refers to the small back streets and narrow alleyways along which the city’s culinary secrets lie. Pan’am in Phnom Penh, the smallishmo place on Street 19 with half a dozen tables and an eclectic fusion menu, lives up to the name. The main menu offers pasta, pate and whatnot (something to keep the kids happy, the maitre d’ says), but the real attractions are the specials, a short picture book of Cambodian-inspired Euro-Asian dishes. The grapefruit salad with surimi ($4.50) comes served in a watermelon, the salmon roll ($7.50) with avocado, goat cheese and salmon eggs. Pan’am looks expensive from the outside, but the portions are healthy and it’s easy to have a plate or two and a glass of wine for around $10.

Pan’am, #196 Street 19.

“See this pot?” Jef Moons gestures toward a vast ceramic jug, the lid of which bears a barely there crumple on one side. “There’s only one like it. You can’t copy it. We spent four hours finding the right place for it.” Wabi Sabi is an ancient Japanese philosophy which emphasises, among other things, the inherent beauty of imperfection. This notion of uniqueness is core to Knai Bang Chatt (Khmer for ‘a rainbow encircling the sun’), one of the most exquisite escapes on the ghostly Kep coastline. There, among white skeletons of colonial mansions slowly being swallowed by jungle, is an exotic otherworld of reclaimed French architecture, time-weathered wood furniture and endless Gulf Of Siam seascapes; quite the privileged retreat from reality. Each room was created with its own character; the private grounds and their infinity pool nestles against the Knai Bang Chatt Sailing Club, where you can plough the waves or simply prop up the bar and watch. Inner peace is assured.

Knai Bang Chatt, Kep; 078 888556.

Mumoo’s is the newest addition to the burgeoning little alleyway known as Street 240½. Smallish and cosy, the daytime eatery specialises in muffins, milkshakes and coffee so powerful it might just be illegal. Seriously. Muffin recipes, both sweet and savoury, are still in the experimental stage and seem to grow in size with every visit. Peanut butter is well-represented; it’s in the whole-meal chocolate and peanut-butter muffins and the banana, chocolate and peanut-butter milk shakes (made with real ice cream). A list of coffees – the espresso is like rocket fuel – and teas round out the drinks menu, and a cottage jewellery shop is in the works upstairs.

Mumoo’s, Street 240½.

Backstage is among the latest players in the capital’s growing music divide. Hidden among the small shops that line the quay between Cafe Fresco and Costa Coffee, the narrow music bar plays danceable European-edged techno during the week and hosts live DJ sessions most weekends. The interiors are first-class, with floor-to-ceiling mirrors giving the smallish room the feel of a much larger venue. Unfinished concrete walls and metal-and-pine furniture accented with black cushions give Backstage a smart, relaxed feel, much more private dressing room than public storage area. And the menu, which offers Prosecco by the glass ($5.50) and Moet & Chandon by the bottle ($90), definitely says this is no place for poorly dressed road crew or beer-chuggers. Backstage, #377 Sisowath Quay.

“You have to listen to the coffee while it’s roasting, that’s why I do it at 4am.” Feel Good, in the unlikely location of Street 136, might just be the gentrification this postcode needs. This extraordinary space occupies enough storeys to warrant 120 steps, encompassing on the way a cafe, coffee-roaster shipped in from Turkey, open and training kitchens, spa, dance/yoga studio and VIP room with, yes, plunge pool. Think inviting wood furniture, liberal leafage, disarmingly charming staff and a resident Puerto Rican witch doctor. Prepare to be spellbound.

Feel Good, #79 Street 136; 017 497538.   

The name says Italian, but Contro d’ Oriente, the cutesy new eatery behind the Royal Palace on Street 184, is far more artsy Asian mash-up than smoky mob hangout where heavyset enforcers burn Macanudos and argue over the optimal slimness of the sliced garlic in the tomato sauce. At Contro, floor-to-ceiling murals cover the walls – a Venice riverscape to one side, a bucolic Mekong waterway to the other. The ceiling lights are covered in Pich Sopheap-esque woven rattan artwork and Khmer-style long chairs sport oversized pillows covered with local fabrics. Most pastas are less than $5, the gelato is a delicious $1.5 per scoop, and the staff like to keep the music turned up, which makes it harder for the G-men to listen in on the caper.

Contro d’ Oriente, #20 Street 184.