Restaurant: Lemongrass
Location : Camden
By Boeing: 1032 miles
By Boris Bike: 1.9 miles
Cambodia is the Asian destination de rigour. Its troubled, insular recent past means its cultural tentacles stretch far less far than its more established, modernised neighbour, Thailand. It is a backlit backwater that promises timeless mystery and untainted treasures along the meandering course of the Mekong.
While Thai food has become almost as ubiquitous in London as Chinese, Cambodian restaurants remain an oddity, tucked away off the beaten track to be discovered only by the brave few who venture beyond established Asian cuisine. Lemongrass is just such an example. Although located amidst a cavalcade of cuisine in cosmopolitan Camden it is just set back from the bustle of the busy, popular streets that throng with the colourfully curious and the plain hungry. Though spartan and unassuming it lacks the frenetic energy and bustling bonhomie of a Chinatown canteen and yet has little comforts for the sartorial sophisticate or sloany supperer.
The charm of Cambodia lies in its rustic, ritualistic, parochial character. It seems like a country suspended in time, unfazed and unfettered by modern convenience and the western, materialistic template for progress.
French colonial rule has left its culinary markers. The odd, almost abstract, practice of dipping baguettes in curry must be a surreal image to behold. But when the French left Cambodia became first a pawn in the Vietnam war and then the anti-modernist, anti-western, anti-intellectual regime of the Khmer Rouge. Its simple, pastoral lifestyle may appear charming but was attained through suppression. But Cambodia is beginning to find its feet again thanks to the debt it owes to a far older, far grander era in its history. In the early middle ages the Angkhor civilisation was the most powerful in the region. To celebrate this might they built the largest capital the world had ever seen. It is thought that at its zenith Angkhor had almost a million inhabitants, making it the largest pre-industrial settlement on earth.
An enduring symbol of this golden age is the temple of Angkor Wat, the main tourist attraction in the country, the silhouette of which dominates the country's flag. As the Asian Machu Picchu, Angkhor has become a focal point of an increasingly well trodden tourist trail. Cambodian cuisine shares influences with its neighbours and aficionados of Thai will be warmly familiar with the coconut milk based soups and mounds of glutinous sticky rice. But there are also some surprises. Chilli is rarely used in Cambodian cooking with heat generally provided by black pepper.
After a slightly stodgy leek cake and a bowl of garlic smothered mushrooms i looked forward to a Lok Luk steak curry, that came with a promise of authenticity by the chef. Its peppery intensity was very enjoyable but somehow felt more European than Asian. If i closed my eyes i could have been in a French bistro but a million miles from a Bangkok diner. Although I must say i would have welcomed a Baguette to soak up the rich sauce.
Presumably attempting to serve the taste for Thai, Lemongrass offered few traditional Khmer dishes and instead served Thai derivatives and pan-asian staples. I was disappointed not to try Prahok, a salty, fish paste, that is used as the base for many of the nation’s dishes. It's tart, salty flavour is clearly not deemed a taste the west will be sold on. Instead blends of regional spices such as ginger, lemongrass, turmeric and galangal are used liberally both in soups and stir fries. But as the only diners on a Thursday evening it seemed that the policy of serving what are perceived as more popular dishes may have backfired.
Washing my peppery steak curry down with spine-shudderingly ripe palm juice I looked forward to a little more adventure for dessert. Perhaps to inject some drama into the experience i ordered flambéed banana fritters, caring more about their flammability than their flavour. The waitress enjoyed lighting the dish that glowed briefly and unspectacularly like a Calor Gas capsule on a dull, wet Welsh hillside. They were fun, in the way plunging an impossibly long spoon into a knickerbockerglory is fun.
In not offering an authentic experience they have merely joined the rank of countless Thai restaurants liberally scattered across London. They have gambled in forsaking their unique selling point to appeal to a reliable and loyal market. This was also reflected in a dispiriting absence of cultural paraphernalia. A montage of historic temples and ancient artefacts would have injected some soul into the surroundings.
In most restaurants on this journey the walls have been festooned with the intriguing and the alluring, from bulbous stringed instruments, to intricately woven battle-dress and even bejewelled scimitars. These artefacts stimulate the imagination and sow the seeds of a future visit to the country itself.
The next time I am in Camden i half expect to walk past a Thai restaurant, the location of which is strangely familiar.
