Our Review Of Lai Rai: A Kitsch Restaurant With Creative Vietnamese Sharing Plates In Peckham

Lai Rai is the type of place you’d stumble upon if you were lost down an alley - it has an enjoyable air of fever dream about it that makes you question whether you’ve fallen through a TV screen and into a parallel world, one where you’re being filmed in a squareish aspect ratio with a warm colour grade slapped over you. You may find yourself muttering, in the words of Agent Cooper from Twin Peaks: The Return, “What year is this?”

Whether it’s the 70s or 80s, it simply doesn’t matter at this new Vietnamese restaurant on Rye Lane. It aims to dislocate you from the everyday, with a few addictive prawn lollipops along the way.

Lai Rai's interiors are visually striking and fun.

DesignMyNight’s Review Of Lai Rai In Peckham

Lai Rai, meaning ‘little by little’ in Vietnamese, is a collaborative project between a creative mix of indivuals who all met while working at Bánh Bánh: Joseph Losper & Tomio Shota of House of Baby, Blair Nguyen and Ivy Vo from food and rave group Vinaxoa, and AP Nguyen, an artist and now head of operations.

House of Baby leant into the Japanese word Isekai, meaning an alternate reality, to guide the atmosphere of the restaurant. That became a guiding principle for the atmosphere at Lai Rai.

Through reflections, the pair wanted to suggest a subtle slippage, like the room is folding in on itself, or that you’ve stepped just slightly sideways into another version of reality. The porthole window on the second-floor ceiling is particularly indicative of an eerie yet pensive feel that you just can’t quite place - it glowed a blazing red, visible from the streets below, and could just as well be a portal to another dimension.

My partner and I sat on plastic red high chairs surrounded by glossy tiles and mirrors, notes of milky yellow and that signature ruby red that beamed from strips of LED lights (there was not a big light in sight). The restaurant's menu was short but sweet, centred around the bia hơi culture in Vietnam, and this relaxed social gathering ethos was evident in groups of friends lounging beside us, red chopsticks hovering over steaming plates.

Cocktails (pictured left) and prawn lollipops (right).

We were advised to choose around two large plates alongside a couple of small ones and some sides, which, if there were anymore than two of you, could’ve been the entire menu. First up was the thịt kho tàu (£9), which was braised pork belly pieces with a sticky caramel glaze. Sticky might have been an understatement, as these crispy-looking nuggets were fused into an amorphous-like bond, requiring them to be prised apart. Treacly and crunchy, they were worth the meticulous extraction, though my partner proved it was possible to eat them in up to three large bites if you couldn’t be bothered.

The choạ cổm (£4 each), AKA prawn lollies made with fragrant young rice, sugarcane, fish sauce satay and fresh herb sauce, were a real highlight and a continuation of Lai Rai’s ability to convince you thinking you’re going to eat one thing, before pleasantly surprising you with something else. In this case, it was a prawn flavour bomb that sweetly exploded and left warm, nutty notes behind.

The bò lá lốt xốt cà phê (pictured right).

The following bò lá lốt xốt cà phê (£16) had a lot to live up to, but fortunately, the rich, meaty patties of beef atop a velvety, chocolatey Vietnamese coffee BBQ sauce rose to the challenge. The sauce was so moreish that I saved my xôi vò chiên (£4 for three pieces) to mop it up with. These were finger-long fried coconut mungbean sticky rice sticks, which were unlike anything I’d eaten before. They were similar to a more gooey hash brown in terms of crispy coating and even in taste, with a hint of sweetness from the mungbean. A stark contrast was the tangy cả chua ngào ớt (£3.50), which were pickled chilli mustard greens I couldn’t get enough of.

Finishing off, we prised apart fragrant mussels drenched in a creamy coconut broth with lemongrass and Vietnamese hot mint. This was the vẹm cốt dừa (£18), and it came with the restaurant's very own branded wet wipes, fortunately, as the dish required us to get very hands-on, making sure we got pools of broth scooped up in the dainty black shells.

To wash everything down, we opted for cocktails, and while my partner sipped on a clean, floral gá nhảy (£13), featuring Roku gin, lychee liqueur, and vermouth, which came with a pretty elderflower jelly, I went down a slightly spicier route. The xoài dá (£12) was a tart and fruity take on a type of margarita with tequila, lime, mango and chilli, finished with a fruit salt rim, and was incredibly easy to drink. The mango element made it a lot more refreshing than I had anticipated, a far cry from the two cà phê martinis (£12) we ended on.

The cà phê martini (pictured left) and the fish sauce vanilla caramel ice cream (right).

Accompanying our delightful vodka, Vietnamese coffee, and Kahlua-based cocktails was dessert from a short ice cream menu by local South East London vendors Clingy Wrap. My partner’s fish sauce vanilla caramel (£6.50) affair wasn’t for me, though he loved it. It was the perfect marriage of sweet and salty for him, rich in umami with elements of treacle.
I tucked into a welcomed kumquat cucumber sorbet (£6), offering a muted citrussy respite from the heat of our aforementioned, delicious mains.

The entire meal seemed like a delicious blur of elevated street food in a restaurant that could’ve been out of an Edward Hopper painting. As we left, we lingered in its scarlet light, staring up at the kitsch exterior sandwiched between graffiti-adorned buildings. It was as though, if we blinked, it might not be there when we opened our eyes. Though here’s to hoping there’s another prawn lollipop in there with my name on it.

Overall: Lai Rai

I loved dining at Lai Rai - it was such a clever restaurant where you could tell as much detail and thought had gone into the interiors and atmosphere as the food. With such a short, yet affordable, menu, its continued culinary appeal will lie in the expansion or rotation of dishes, as well as potentially guest supper clubs, which is something I have no doubt the team will be able to do - as long as it isn’t to the detriment of fan favourites.

For more, check out our guide to the best restaurants in Peckham.