This Vietnamese Restaurant in Canley Vale Makes Sydney Restaurants Look Boring

When I walk into Hai Au Lang Nuong, I feel like I’ve been dropped into Aladdin’s Cave of Wonders. Almost every corner is decorated with some kind of sculpture, treasure or cryptic object that I don’t understand. Like Aladdin searching for one lamp among mountains of riches, I’m not at Hai Au Lang to discover, I’m there to eat a colossal amount of Vietnamese grill. But, every time, I end up walking around the restaurant like it’s an art gallery, laughing, talking and feeling generally baffled by whatever new trinket I notice.

There’s so much to discover in this restaurant that I end up asking myself, when is there a sense of discovery in the dining rooms around Sydney? For the flashy, award-winning restaurants that flood our feeds, the answer is almost never.

Hai Au Lang Nuong is unique because it wasn’t styled by Luchetti Krelle or Guru Projects; there were no designers, marketing managers or architects involved; it’s not inspired by Wes Anderson, New York steakhouses, Japan or the kind of bistros you see in old-world Paris. It is completely designed and, in most cases, handcrafted by Ben Nguyen, the owner and chef.

The restaurant was born in 1998, when Nguyen and his family, refugees from Vietnam, moved their small restaurant into a much larger space up the road. The spot was previously a classic suburban Chinese joint – curtained walls and a few paintings, but otherwise bare, like so many others, Nguyen says. The first stroke of inspiration came when Nguyen saw how many clay pots they were using. Clay pot cooking was their signature and Nguyen’s dad would make wire mesh to protect the pots from the gas stove. “I would see so much waste, so instead of chucking them away I would make something out of it.” He points to the array of clay pots hanging on the wall behind him – each scrawled with Vietnamese characters, together they make a poem. “A lot of my dad's labour, it was by hand. I recycle to remember my dad.”

To most diners, the decor probably seems random, or just bizarrely and enthusiastically eccentric – plenty of people have certainly given Nguyen that feedback. But every piece of decoration – the giant buffalo sculpture, the Barbie that’s facing the loos (a sign above her head says “Everyone shits and eats” in Vietnamese), the toilets coloured by armies of empty glass bottles, and even the random bits of Star Wars memorabilia – has a story or a philosophy related to Nguyen, his life, community and culture. They are authentic to him. Unlike many inner-city, expensive restaurants, whose stories and designs are invented by design or content agencies and don’t reflect the personality of the chef or the community – they’re manufacturing a vibe.

In that process, risk and difference are sacrificed in favour of whatever is trendy.

I don’t have enough fingers to count how many modern Italian restaurants there are with mildly abstract illustrated logos, white-beige-wood dining rooms and menus with steak, fresh pasta and a zesty raw fish dish.

I think of those restaurants like the artworks of the Uffizi, that famous art gallery in Florence where all the tourists go. Sure, there is a lot of beauty, but even beauty becomes boring when it’s all the same. Marble, banquettes, leather, light timber, Scandinavian-Japanese design elements, minimalism and pastels – a soft and low-risk vision of luxury, where beauty is found only within the frames of the zeitgeist.

But it’s outside the culture of the moment that so much bizarre and wonderful creation occurs. Sydney may be creating the restaurant versions of great pop songs, but I also listen to gabba, metal, bounce and bluegrass.

I think the best example of this is in the reactions Nguyen got when he was decorating his restaurant. All the time, people told him to stop. People still ask him, “Ben, why don't you decorate like a new shop? Make it contemporary, get a TV, stuff like that?” But, like a punk artist refusing to dull the distortion on their amp, he didn’t listen and, remarkably, he has never doubted himself or his art.

“How can you doubt your emotion and feeling? I want to be love, I want to be me, I want to be you, I want to be free, so let me be.”

He says everyone is looking all over the world for inspiration. Some people go all the way to India and Tibet for enlightenment. But, to Ben, there is beauty everywhere. Even in a piece of trash – a broken clay pot – because it tells a story.

Hai Au Lang Nuong
48 Canley Vale Road, Canley Vale
9724 9156

Hours
Mon 10am–10pm
Tue closed
Wed & Thu 10am–10pm
Fri & Sat 10am–10.30pm

@haiaulangnuong