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We arrive at the restaurant, Khoai, quite early, at about 6.45 p.m., having stopped on our way back from seeing Bride and Prejudice. Honestly, what a load of rubbish. Darcy wasn’t even sexy, and I do like a sexy Darcy. I wish Darcy had been Jude Law. Now that is one sexy boy. My son and his friend like J-Lo and Beyoncé. I don’t know who the average male Spectator reader fancies but I imagine Sandra Howard in a thong pretty much does it for them. I once tried a thong, but it cost £5 and £4-worth went directly up my bottom. I am back to big pants now. My son wears boxers, which I pick up with the litter-grabber while wearing a snorkel and looking the other way.
The restaurant has quite a plain interior: simple tables, pine seating, not much in the way of decoration beyond a couple of Vietnamese conical hats hung on one wall. But it’s a good job we arrive early. It’s not a big space and it is staggeringly popular. By 7.15 p.m. all the tables are gone and people are being turned away. We have an adorable waiter, a Vietnamese boy with sweet cheeks and a Tintin quiff. ‘What’s your secret?’ I ask. ‘Goo foo, no spensive, me have big smile!’ And now I think about it, that probably is the secret of a popular local restaurant. As it is, one table is occupied by a solo gentleman reading a book while eating, and I like that. If a single diner feels comfy, then it usually means the place is neither pretentious nor up its own arse (unlike my thong, which was so far up my own arse I considered calling the fire brigade to help rescue it. No, I haven’t got a cat up a tree, but I do have a thong up my arse, and I’ll thank you to put the sirens on as I cannot tell you how uncomfortable it is…).
The food at Khoai all sounds lovely, making it very hard to choose. I go demented just trying to settle on a starter. I think I might want Bo La Lot (grilled beef seasoned with spices, cinnamon and lemongrass, wrapped in wild betel leaves, £5.25). But then I think I might want Cha Gio (spring rolls with grated carrot, onion, cellophane rice sticks and cloud ear mushroom wrapped in egg rice paper, £3.30). I do love a good cloud ear mushroom. In the end, though, after a great deal of pained dithering, I go for Canh Chua with prawns, a soup made from a tamarind broth containing pineapple, tomatoes, chilli, okra, beansprouts, fried garlic, spring onion, coriander and all manner of herbs. It’s terrific: fruity yet spicy, sweet yet sour, with prawns as plump as anything, all wonderfully fresh, and an astonishing £3.65. One smelly boy has Muc Lan Bot, squid sautéed with peppercorn salt, chilli and garlic (£4.95). I’m afraid I don’t get a taste because he wolfs it all so quickly. He says it was delicious, though, which strangely doesn’t make me feel any better about missing out, but does make me feel a lot better about pushing him out of the door and then double-locking it from the inside. The other smelly boy chooses a Chinese-style dish, the crispy duck with pancakes, which is also perfect, with duck that’s not just crispy but doubly crispy, and aromatic in a way the bedrooms of blokes this age never are.
Next, I have the fried tilapia in fish sauce with fresh green mango, which at £8.50 is the most expensive main course you can have. Tilapia is a fish not unlike the catfish, and it comes in all its glory, which includes an open mouth populated by sharp, spiny teeth. The fish has been marinated, I think, in fish sauce, and then cooked so that the skin is spicy and crisp, while the white flesh is pearly and juicy. I love every mouthful, and leave nothing bar the poor thing’s spine and scary teeth. One boy has stir-fried chicken in chilli and black bean sauce, while the other has prawns with pickled greens. We share a jasmine rice and some chicken egg noodles. We are happy beyond belief.
Khoai is a terrific little family-run restaurant. Do try it if you can. Apparently it is less busy on weekday nights and is good for lunch, when you can simply pop in for a bowl of Pho, Vietnam’s national dish, which is a wonderful meal-in-bowl rice noodle soup, and which comes in large or small (£3.40 or £4.75). As for my son, I should point out that I do love him really. Or at least would do, if only he didn’t stink quite so much.
Khoai Café, 6 Topsfield Parade, Middle Lane, London N8. Telephone 020 8341 2120
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