Southeast Feast

LemonGrass Asian Bistro

Mon-Thu, 11am-2:30pm; Fri-Sat, 11am-2:30pm, 5-10pm

The current loyal group of patrons who frequent LemonGrass Asian Bistro will hate us for revealing their coveted secret, but jewels this juicy and savory are too good to keep to oneself. On 620, about halfway between Mansfield Dam and Lakeway, in Lakeway Plaza, is one of Austin’s best pan-Asian restaurants. It’s a small spot with limited seating and tiny tables turning out some of the finest Thai, Cambodian, Laotian, and Burmese cuisine around. As a matter of fact, they turn out the only Cambodian, Laotian, and Burmese cuisine in Austin, and it’s not even on the menu!

Fellow food writer Wes Marshall tipped us off about the hidden food finds at LemonGrass when he visited it for our Lakeside Dining issue (www.auschron.com/issues/dispatch/2000-07-07/), telling us that with 24 hours’ notice, diners can request any cuisine from the Golden Triangle (and we don’t mean Beaumont, Port Arthur, and Houston). Since Art, my cookbook writing partner, and I were in fact writing a chapter on Cambodia, Laos, and Burma at the time, we decided to give Chef Ped a call, and give him free rein.

Executive chef Banh Phommavong goes by the nickname of “Ped.” He’s a Lao who grew up in the restaurant business in Thailand, in a small city on the Laotian border. He earned his chops working in some of the best restaurants in Bangkok before moving to the States. Ped is proficient with the cuisines of not only Thailand, Cambodia, Laos, and Burma, but those of China, Japan, Singapore, and Indonesia, and Vietnam as well. And he’s very accommodating to special requests for regional cuisine from all of Southeast Asia, given adequate notice.

With the warning call made, we showed up for the Southeast Feast primed and ready to test Chef Ped’s mettle. We decided to begin with a couple of items from the Thai menu, settling on Lemongrass Stick ($3.50), which consisted of a paste of shrimp, pork, carrot, and onion molded around two stalks of fresh lemongrass. The paste had absorbed the aroma and taste of the lemongrass it was grafted to, and the flavor was superb. It was accompanied by a small salad, and a nontraditional dipping sauce similar to a honey-mustard vinaigrette. I would have preferred a more classical sauce, but the overall combination worked well.

Next was an incendiary Thai shrimp salad, Koong Pla ($6.99), which was a blend of greens tossed with tomato, scallion, red onion, mint, roasted rice powder, and just-cooked shrimp. The dressing was a tart and piquant blend of lime juice, fish sauce, and ground bird pepper. The mixture was up there with the best Thai salads we’ve had in Austin, perfectly balanced, and teetering on the brink of the limits of delectable spiciness without going over the edge. Very well done, indeed.

The first of the chef’s selections to arrive was a Laotian “dip” named Pon Pla ($10.99), which is said to have originated in the capital of Laos, Vientiane, the main trading center of agriculture and aquaculture. It is a very unique pounded purée of fire-grilled sweet, round eggplant, shallot, garlic, and chiles, with lime leaves, cilantro, and scallion. The surprise ingredient in the mix were sweet, fresh tilapia fillets that are first grilled, then braised, so that the flesh can be extracted from the flavorful bones. One eats the dish by scooping up portions of the dip with pieces of vegetable crudité. The flavor is rich and smoky, spicy and herbal, with a perfect blending of the eggplant and fish flavors, counterbalanced by the crispy vegetables. We were very pleasantly surprised.

The second selection from Chef Ped was a Burmese chicken curry, Kyethar Hin ($9.99). On a past food foray to New York City, the best food I tasted of dozens of ethnic international meals was at a simple Burmese restaurant, Cafe Mingala, so expectations were high for the Burma portion of the feast. This curry was unlike any we had ever tasted, and was the ideal combination of flavors from the Thai and Indian influences that shape the cuisine of Burma. It was a rich, dark, brownish red sauce of cumin, turmeric, lemongrass, ginger, onion, garlic, makroot, and paprika. We both had to just sit there and drink in the aroma for a while before digging in to the chicken and vegetables. The taste was ethereal and seductive, and I felt guilty for hogging more than my half while Art’s head was turned — but I did it anyway.

The third dish from Ped was a Cambodian Chicken Larb ($9.99). Call it Lap in Laos, Laab in Thailand, or Larb in Cambodia, but all of the countries have their own slightly different versions of this minced salad, and it can be made with raw or cooked beef, pork, chicken, or fish. Our Larb was a masterful blend of poached minced chicken with chile, shallot, mint, fish sauce, and roasted rice powder. Ped handled this dish with aplomb, and we both pronounced it to be outstanding.

We finished with Robin’s Pad Thai ($7.99), which we both felt was on a par with the upper echelon of pad Thais found around. The noodles were adroitly al dente, and paired with chicken, peanuts, egg, and Thai spices. Every bite was finished, even though we were both stuffed to the brim.

Chef Ped cruises the room like an orchestra conductor, working the tables and greeting guests, then suddenly disappearing to the kitchen to crank out another table’s order. We felt completely welcomed and he seemed truly excited that we were there to sample the off-menu offerings, checking back often to see how we liked the successive courses. The service was slightly confused, but we attributed this to the fact that the owner was checking on us often, and we had ordered items not on the menu, both things that can throw off all but the most seasoned of servers.

Throughout the meal, we kept commenting among ourselves that Ped should buck the trend to stick with the most popular, tried-and-true menu items, and introduce these fantastic food finds to the dining public. It always annoys us that restaurateurs seem afraid to offer unusual items, and this too often leads to a lack of menu diversity, especially with Oriental restaurants. No sooner had we said the words than Ped stopped by with some interesting news.

Before the LemonGrass regulars have us tarred and feathered for spilling the beans about their favorite haunt, let us be the first in the media to confirm that on or around November 11, LemonGrass will absorb the space next door, effectively doubling their current size. Ped has plans on having an open kitchen with the new arrangement, and offering cooking classes as well. And for those interested in learning from Ped sooner than that, he will be teaching at the Central Market Cooking School on November 5. But most importantly, he will be putting many of the incredible dishes from Laos, Cambodia, and Burma on the new menu. We can’t wait.

We strongly urge the dining public to take advantage of Chef Ped’s marvelous culinary skills with the cuisines of Southeast Asia. Call ahead and let him make the choices of what to serve you from the regions, or if you have a favorite you like, he’ll be glad to accommodate. Get off your culinary duffs and be adventurous — you will be delighted.

This article appears in Rick Perry.