Jun. 29, 2005 - Issue #506: Smoking Ban
Splendor in the Lemongrass
Asian restaurant is setting for satisfying Father's Day feast
This year, I spent my first Father’s Day in memory with my Dad. It’s been 28 years since my mom loaded my sister and me into a yellow VW and brought us to Edmonton. We stayed in contact with Pops, but school and work always prevented a June visit. This year, however, he had retired and we held additional leverage: his granddaughter. He drove out from Dauphin, Manitoba with his wife and our baby’s great-grandmother, so we celebrated at the Lemongrass Café.
The Lemongrass Café is a bright, open Vietnamese restaurant decorated in eggplant and celery. Glass bricks emphasize retro trendiness, while deliberate pieces of Asian art connect the space to its heritage. When my sister arrived, bleary-eyed from two weeks of nonstop partying, we decided to order some appetizers before we fainted away from hunger.
In university, I learned that lighting a cigarette was the best way to summon your bus. The same principle applies to dining: the rest of your party invariably arrives immediately after you order just enough for the people seated. The resulting single pot of jasmine tea ($5.10), six-piece order of spring rolls ($5.95) and four-piece order of salad rolls ($5.95) was laughably insufficient for the hungry group of eight.
By hip-checking my grandmother out of the way, I managed to snatch a half of each type of roll before they vanished. The spring roll was one of the best I’ve ever tasted: a hot, crunchy tidbit tightly packed with shrimp and pork goodness. The steamed salad roll was stuffed to nearly bursting, its contents fresh and delicious, if a little heavy on the basil. Rich hoisin peanut sauce was an outstanding accent and I enjoyed more than my share.
As our friendly waiter rushed to get more tea cups and menus, we bent to the task of choosing our meals. Only two of our party decided to “go it alone” with their own meal combinations, while the rest of us strategized for that perfect balance of delicacies to share. With most dishes around the $10 mark, the menu was reasonably priced and boasted ample selection. As soon as anyone announced their choice, everyone would flip to it and “Oooh...” over the decision. (Our 14-month-old daughter Maeryn got into that part most enthusiastically, saying “Oooh...” whenever anyone else did.) Through the large window to the kitchen, I watched the burst of activity when our order hit.
I was quickly swept into conversation and it seemed only moments before the first dishes arrived. My aunt’s dish was first to arrive: an unbelievable spicy coconut sauce coated thin, tender strips of lemongrass beef and thick slices of onion for a sweet and spicy treat! This was going to be great. Dad’s individual meal of savoury charbroiled lemongrass chicken ($9.25) on a bed of rice looked tasty, but I was glad I had ordered something to share.
I swiped a lemongrass prawn and some chicken from two vermicelli bowls ($9.95 each) that passed by. I didn’t bother much with the noodles themselves, relying on our pot of fluffy white rice ($2.50) for my base. Lemon chicken ($10.95) was popular, though the meat was a little tough. Its breading was tasty and it swam in a tart, gooey sauce that had just the right amount of zest. The sound and aroma of my sister’s sizzling curry seafood and vegetable dish ($16.95) both attracted attention from around the room. The curry was a little strong for me, but I loved snatching entire tentacles off the platter and savouring their chewy texture.
Despite some superb options, my choice was the most popular: luscious chunks of chicken, apple and mango basked in a thick red curry sauce ($11.95) that was less spicy than the seafood sizzler. The fruit’s sweetness balanced the mild spiciness perfectly. Don’t take my word for it, though: it was the first entrée completely devoured by my voracious family.
As with any Asian feast, however, the most exquisite morsels were the final bites of rice at the bottom of my bowl. Sauces and remnants too small for easy chopsticking had steeped throughout the meal, and the intense flavours combined for an experience that very nearly transcended worldly desire. My only regret was the absence of a spin-and-sample turntable. Not only did I have to keep asking for dishes to be passed, but they always ended up in the middle of our table where I was out of the post-dinner nibbling loop.
Gradually, two by two, chopsticks hit the table and our group let out a collective sigh of contentment. Each of us ended up chipping in $17.50 including tax and tip. The only person shortchanged on the deal was my dad, whose contribution covered his $9.25 combo and subsidized my sister’s $16.95 platter. (Happy Father’s Day!) I managed to smuggle the leftovers home, guaranteeing myself two days of spectacular, fragrant lunches. “There was nothing I didn’t enjoy,” my stepmother declared. Maeryn, wreathed with vermicelli noodles and a huge grin, obviously agreed. V
Lemongrass Café
10417-51 Ave • 413-0088
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