This new eatery is a go-to spot for Vietnamese families and expats seeking a taste of home

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Vietnam’s com tam, or “broken rice”, is traditionally made with lowly grains fractured during the milling process. It was a staple of farmers and labourers who couldn’t afford better-quality rice but, these days, all social classes seek comfort in the small and slightly sticky grains that absorb fats and sauces better than the regular stuff. In Sydney, you can find broken-rice solace at Saigon Things, which opened on The Boulevarde in Strathfield in September.

While it’s far from the only restaurant in town offering com tam (Tam Broken Rice and Hai Au Lang Nuong, both in Canley Vale, serve top-tier versions, too), Saigon Things’ modern, brightly lit dining room has quickly become a go-to destination for Vietnamese families and young expats. There’s a fair chance you’ll be waiting for a table on weekends. Over a fact-checking phone call, co-founders Duc Le and Tina Hoang tell me they aren’t trying to be “the next cool kid on the block”, though: the couple’s primary goal is to preserve their culture by showcasing flavours as close as possible to those they’ve experienced in Vietnam.

The dac biet (special combination) com tam headlines the menu’s broken-rice section, and you would be hard-pressed to cram more textures on one plate. Fluffed-up rice that’s not too chewy, not too soft, flavour-boosted with spring onion oil and a sweet nuoc cham; a sticky, grilled pork chop glossed in a reduction of its marinade; one gooey-yolked fried egg; translucent strands of shredded pork skin and collar; julienned pickled carrot and daikon; fresh tomato and cucumber; steamed pork-and-egg meatloaf; and the MVPP (most valuable pig-based product), crunchy pork fat “croutons”.

It would have been easy for Le and Hoang to make com tam the thing at Saigon Things and let the rest of the menu fall around it: some pho, a few rice-paper rolls, sizzling steak. But they’ve pushed through the banh xeo barrier with Saigon street classics, such as sweetcorn in a salted, egg-yolk sauce powered by the funk of dried shrimp. It’s the kind of goopy, buttery thing that might have you asking if there’s any riesling (there isn’t, only Saigon Dry lager for $8), but the best drink-match, really, is a cold can of Sa Xi, Vietnam’s answer to Dr Pepper.

Chicken wings are fried in a super crisp batter and you can have them seasoned with “chilli shrimp salt” (more Sa Xi, please), while sweet potato fries come powdered in salted plum. A slab of “taro-misu” – with taro mascarpone, taro paste, taro sponge and a rubble of chocolate on top – is so massive I need to ask for a takeaway container, and it still takes two days to finish at home.

The pho is made on a clean, balanced broth of knuckle and brisket bones that’s simmered overnight, while the special-combination dac biet – sporting brisket, topside, tendon, squishy beef balls, bible tripe and roasted marrow on a bisected bone – is a formidable bowl, even for the enthusiastic eater. I have a more leisurely time getting to the bottom of the banh canh cua, a full-bodied, shrimp paste-thrumming pork and crab broth with chubby tapioca noodles. Each spoonful is a lucky dip that could win you a crab ball, fish ball, quail egg or sliced pork.

“We want to honour the food I grew up eating and crave every day,” says Le. Job done, I reckon. I may have grown up eating Twisties sandwiches for lunch, but now I find myself thinking about the next opportunity to hoover up that banh canh.

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine

Good Food reviews are booked anonymously and paid independently. A restaurant can’t pay for a review or inclusion in the Good Food Guide.