The boyfriend had been in a strange mood all day. I had put it down to a silly squabble we had had in the morning, but it turns out that he was anxious.
I should have taken the hints; he had been desperately trying to gather more information on where I was taking him that evening. I wasn't letting on much, but he had managed to ascertain the following:
- It was not The Streets concert in Brixton (disappointing)
- We were heading East
- There would be food
- There wouldn't be dancing
Apparently, this wasn’t enough. When I stopped the cab a mile too far down the road without explanation it all became too much.
“I don’t understand, I thought you said it was near the pub, we’ve gone way past that.”
“Umm…”
My phone had lied. It told me I could get a decent bottle of wine near here, but all I could see were more of the corner store off licences I was trying to avoid.
“What are you looking for?”
Silence.
“I’d like to help, but I don’t know where we’re going or what we’re doing!”
He was exasperated.
“OK, OK. It’s a supper club”
Silence.
“You know, an underground restaurant”
More silence.
“In someone’s home.”
Pause.
“Oh, cool. That sounds fun.”
“Thank God for that.”
And thank God it was.
We were greeted by the host, cook and lady of the house, Uyen Luu, aka Leluu. After hanging our coats, she led us to our table where we were introduced to Lisa and John. I was amazed how many people she managed to cram into the narrow living space; friends and strangers all packed in together. Luckily for us, John and Lisa were great company.
There were 8 courses in total, most of which were served in the centre for everyone to share, so that was a good enough starting point as any for conversation.
The starter was a sweet and sour soup full of interesting textures and flavours – tomato, prawn, enoki, beansprouts, taro root, Vietnamese mint and parsley. Pineapple brought the sweetness and fresh lime the sour, with a light touch of fish sauce for the seasoning. It was eclectic, but well balanced, each ingredient bringing something unique to the dish.
Pork belly and prawn summer rolls with cockscombe mint, perilla & coriander were beautifully crafted. Fresh, light and aromatic, they contrasted deliciously with the intensity of the tương xào sauce, a salty paste made from fermented soy beans.
Frogs legs with lemongrass, garlic and honey were the highlight for me. I had never tried frogs legs before but I’d always wanted to, and it was fun to have them Vietnamese style first time round. It is true that they are similar to chicken, but there was also a subtle fishy element, although that could have been the salmon roe garnish (my judgement was slightly impaired by that stage).
Packed full of vibrant flavours, the bò lá lốt (minced beef in betel leaves) was a close contender for the crown of favourite dish. In her recipe on the Fernandez & Leluu blog, Leluu says that “Getting the perfect balance of sweet, sour and salty is crucial” and her bò lá lốt was a textbook example.
The only anomaly was a bacon and cheese swirl, which although very tasty, didn’t make sense with the rest of the dishes. I wasn’t overly taken with the Vietnamese banana pie either, but then I never get particularly excited by Asian desserts. The boyfriend enjoyed it though and, if one is to take quantity consumed as a sign of authority, then he is certainly the better judge when it comes to puddings.
So the food is clearly a selling point, but what of the supper club?
In fact, the most enjoyable part of the night for me was the communal experience. This is unusual because making conversation with new people is not one of my fortes, but there is something about knowing that you will be sharing with others and understanding that everyone is “expected to fraternise with other guests who they may not know” that makes you feel more comfortable. (The 3 bottles of wine probably helped too.)
Like all the best dinner parties, the noise levels rose and rose, laughter and anecdotes bouncing off the walls so that you had to shout to be heard. And then, all too quickly, everyone was saying their goodbyes, booking cabs, exchanging emails, finishing off the last of the wine.
“So,” I asked the boyfriend as we were leaving, “Did you enjoy it in the end?”
“Yes, we should do it again sometime.”
And then, just to be on the safe side, “I mean the supper club, no more surprises.”
Fernandez and Leluu have gone their separate ways and the supper club is now just Leluu supperclub. You can find out how to book here. Upcoming dates are listed on the right hand sidebar on the website. It is advisable to book at least a month in advance, although spare places do come up so worth following her on Facebook or Twitter if you prefer to be spontaneous. You can specify when booking if you don’t want to share a table. The location is disclosed via email a few days before.
Vix