Vietnamese cuisine has never been part of London’s mainstream: its only upmarket exponents (Bam-Bou and Nam Long) are both as famous for their cocktail bars as for their cooking. A recent wind of change, though, has seen a few good canteens blow in from the East, and settle around the City. The Clerkenwell newcomer we review today is bang opposite one of these – Pho, reviewed here last September – but there the similarities end. The new outfit is very definitely a ‘proper’ restaurant, if without any of the OTT delusions of grandeur to which oriental restaurateurs sometimes seem prone.
The reason for this understatement may be that owner Odd Arne Braute hails from – wait for it – Oslo (where he has another establishment of the same name). We hope Mr Braute has done his market research carefully. Even successful restaurants don’t always transplant easily: witness the speedy demise of the West’s End’s Pomodorino (which was a real Italian restaurant run from Rome). London has simply never seen a mid-market Vietnamese restaurant on this newcomer’s gigantic scale, which has three large floors. Only one table on each was occupied during our early-days lunchtime visit.
The one thing that might – just – enable Mr Braute to crack it would be if the food were cracking. But it isn’t. It’s perfectly nice, and it’s strong on protein – the tray of the day consisted of salmon, beef and meatballs – but the dishes do not seem to be invested with any particular spice or wit that would make you actively seek the place out. Salmon – which cropped up unannounced in the soup of the day, as well as in a main course – seems to figure rather more in the cooking here than you might expect in, say, Hanoi. In Oslo, however, it would make perfect sense.
