Huong Viet, Kabukichō フォンベト、歌舞伎町

Assured by our Vietnamese informant that a more authentic Vietnamese dining experience than that offered at Lotus Palace could be had at Kabukichō’s Huong Viet, my dining partner and I fought our way through the crowded Friday night streets of Shinjuku’s east side in search of the place. Located just inside the gate-arch of Kabukichō Ichibangai on the 5th floor of a building of somewhat insalubrious appearance, we emerged from an aging lift to be confronted by an equally run-down stairwell and the entrance to the restaurant. Wondering what we would find inside, we crossed the threshold to be greeted by an accented, lilting “irasshai” from a young lady in traditional Vietnamese costume.

The dining area is fairly basic. The large room, sparsely decorated, with many worn looking dark wood tables and chairs that brought to mind countless Chinese restaurants had the unwelcoming aspect of a dining hall. Being seated at a table for four by a large window looking down

on to the busy streets below we supped on icy Kirin beer and gin & tonic of generous strength. Looking around the restaurant, which despite it being already 8pm was woefully lacking in customers, I found a well-stocked bar to the rear and walls and ceiling decorated with calligraphy, paintings of Vietnam’s countryside, traditional Vietnamese bamboo hats and delicate insect cages (devoid of inhabitants.) In the background suitably quiet, ambient Asian music played. The waitress, all smiles and plump limbs, supplied menus filled with photos of delicious looking, colourful dishes. A cursory glance suggested similar fare to that at Lotus Palace.

As customers began to trickle in, mainly groups of ladies and couples, we tried to ignore the constant rattle and hum of the window shaking with force of the traffic below while ordering our meal. The range of dishes on offer was wide and varied, although shrimps feature in many. Prices were not extortionate but slightly higher than those paid in Akasaka, which was something of a surprise. More beer and three goi cuon (uncooked spring roll) stuffed with shrimps, bacon, shredded daikon and lettuce arrived in a bamboo basket. Of a good size, the top-most was cut in half so that we had no need to argue over the division of the dish. A nice touch. Dipped into a sweet dipping sauce into which crushed nuts were sprinkled, the spring rolls were fresh, filling and had a strong taste of ginger, which made them stand out from those I had tried at the Lotus Palace. Decent enough, and yet I felt they were a little dry. After our own recent, disastrous attempt to make a papaya salad (the result had been a foul smelling, bitter tasting experience) we decided to try that on offer here, and were once again impressed. The salad, goi du du, itself consists of papaya, carrots, daikon, red radish, onions, parsley, nuts and pork, with shrimps arranged around its periphery. It had a nice sweet and sour flavour to it with just a hint of the bitter papaya coming through after. Eager to know why our own culinary endevours had failed, we asked the waitress for advice. Fish oil, it seems, is the secret. Too much results in the awful taste we had created.

As the volume of customers now increased, the atmosphere became much more lively, the air busy with the sound of laughter and a stream of orders. Enjoying ourselves, and keen to sample more of the food, we opted for the rau muong xao toi, fried green kōshinsai with big slices of fried garlic and occasional pieces of red chill pepper. This proved to be my favourite dish of the evening, and as such I found myself wishing it had been a little larger. While I continued to indulge in the beer, my dining partner had a pot of pungent lotus tea and bought a copy of the owner’s, a Ms. Tran Thi Diep, cookbook Ethnic Diet Vietnam, priced at 1,400 yen. Apparently she had come to Japan (Okinawa in fact) as a boat-person in 1979, and after struggling for many years opened her first restaurant in Higashi-Nakano in 1987. The success of that establishment prompted her to open a second one in Nishi-Shinjuku and then a third in Kabukichō. The popularity of her cooking convinced her to share her knowledge, resulting in the cookbook. With luck, we’ll never need to endure a bad papaya

salad again!

Tiring of beer, I switched to whisky. Two large glasses full of Chivas Regal, on the rocks. This was followed by a final dish, the kaisen okoge, consisting of red, orange and green peppers mixed with baby corn, pork and squid in a moist soy based sauce, topped with coriander, into which two large clumps of crispy rice, literally like rice-crispies, were broken and mixed. Initially rather uninspiring, after ten minutes or so the flavours soaked in and the “rice-crispies” softened. The result was very pleasing, and yet perhaps a little too oily. Certainly worth trying though. The meal concluded with Vietnamese style coffee, filtered through a metal filter above a glass containing condensed milk. Strong, sickly sweet, it served to combat the whisky.

In all, a pleasant meal, good service and, once the place fills up, an enjoyable atmosphere. Portions are fair, but not big enough to my mind. Prices are reasonable, although more expensive than those at the Lotus Palace, with the meal coming to 6,000 yen per person. On the whole the food is better than that served at Lotus Palace, but only just. As long as you avoid a table by the constantly rattling windows, an enjoyable experience awaits. I will certainly be visiting the Nishi-Shinjuku Huong Viet shortly, and will report my findings here.

Tel: 03-5155-4721

Web: http://www.huongviet-k.jp/