A rare encounter, the kind that will read like something out of a novel, recently forced me to confront Canberra with the unapologetic eyes of an outsider.
A man stopped me on the corner of London Circuit and Ainslie Place, just as the dark was setting in and I had left work for the day. He was new to Canberra, he said, had never been before and where might the restaurants and shops be?
Even the hardiest Canberra defenders are forced to confront themselves when, standing next to a shuttered and defunct bank building in what is according to all good maps the central business district in the national capital of the Commonwealth of Australia, the place looks irreparably desolate.
So, in a tradition that surely dates back to the 1920s and the Blue Moon Cafe, I directed the newcomer towards the Sydney and Melbourne Buildings, where he was, I claimed almost scarcely believing it myself, sure to find something.
All this weighed on my mind one recent Sunday, again just after I had left work for the day, when we wandered into Bistro Nguyen's, the ever-busy Vietnamese restaurant in the Melbourne Building's north-eastern corner.
This is what a city centre is supposed to be about: food done well and fast at a competitive price in an environment with some character. "Lunch at Bistro?" is a text message not to be left on read. Forget what vestige of presenteeism remains in this work-from-home era and take a generous hour.
The banh mi selection at lunchtime is serious. The beef brisket, if you disencumber yourself of the weight of tradition, is a rich and filling affair that creates a divine combination of meat, sauce and fresh bread roll.
And it'll be done in high time to make it back for your 2 o'clock.
But it had been years since I had been for dinner. The set-up and the menu is essentially identical, which is to say extensive and bright. There are a handful of choices for wine, or you can bring your own, but I never get past a glass of Tiger beer on tap.
We started with a grilled pork rice paper roll each ($13.50 for two). These come with a hoisin peanut dipping sauce. They contain a substantial piece of grilled pork which is all the better for loading up the sauce. Better to go with someone you know well so you won't feel bad about double dipping.
A rare beef salad ($19.50), lemon cured and tossed with red onion, carrot and crushed peanuts with a lemon dressing, is a Sunday night joy. Vegetables have no business tasting this fresh, snappy and clear at this point in the week. There is no science behind this statement, it is only a sense I have. The salad was light and zesty in a manner I rarely associate with the drudging-along feeling of Sundays. The beef was not particularly rare but still tender, thinly sliced and flavoursome.
We were forewarned our main would take a little time. After leafing through the pages of pho, noodles, specials and stews, we landed on the whole barramundi ($39.50). This would take 20 minutes, we were told, and almost to the second, it did.
Ca chiên - fried fish in Vietnamese - turns a whole fish into a completely crispy exterior protecting soft fish on the inside. Bistro Nguyen's gives you a choice, but the right one is Nuoc cham ginger fish sauce. The fish arrives in quite an imposing way - anything on a dining table with its eyes has that presence - but a couple of forks will break the crispy barrier into the pockets of fish below.
The sauce soaks into the crispy skin and adds a well-measured kick to the fineness of the flesh. It is a dish I love for the rustic theatre of it, the directness between fish, fork and chopstick, and the binary contrast between skin and flesh.
The service at Bistro Nguyen's has one mode: efficient. It is possible to book a table but I never have. There is usually one available and if there isn't, there will be soon. Since the restaurant expanded into the space vacated by a neighbour, I imagine the waiting for a table thing is very rare.
If you would like a dessert, be a little forward in grabbing someone's attention on the floor. A deep-fried ice-cream with caramel sauce and peanuts ($13) between the two of us was a cool refreshment after our fish. All the crisping had been saved for the fish, however, so the exterior of the ice-cream ball was a little limp. This is perhaps too harsh a quibble for a dessert that is more about fun than finesse.
If you want to be waited on hand and foot, have the whole menu explained to you and someone come over every now and then to ask how everything is going, Bistro Nguyen's is not your pick. Nor is it your pick if you don't want to eat near anyone or have semi-private conversations in rooms muffled by deep carpets and acoustic foam.
But if you want to live a little and embrace the fast and spontaneous joy of being in the city (yes, it still exists despite the construction fences and defunct bank branches), this is the place.
From day to night, Bistro Nguyen's does consistently fresh and approachable food with a varied menu to suit all tastes, from heavy and stocky to light and quick.
If someone is pointing you towards the Sydney and Melbourne buildings on a desolate-looking Canberra evening, consider this a sure bet.
Address: 78-80 Alinga Street, Canberra ACT 2601
Phone: (02) 6262 6888
Website: bistronguyens.com.au
Hours: 11.30am to 2.30pm and 5.30 to 9.30pm, seven days a week
Access: Flat dining room with some tight corners
Noise: More boisterous than not if busy
Dietary: Advise staff, with no guarantee of gluten and nut free
How we score: Of 20 points, 10 are awarded for food, five for service, three for ambience, two for wow factor. 12 Reasonable - 13 Solid and satisfactory - 14 Good - 15 Very good - 16 Seriously good - 17 Great - 18 Excellent - 19 Outstanding - 20 The best of the best
