Try the three-time ‘world’s best rice’ winner at Luke Nguyen’s new Fish Market restaurant

Rice is a trend like breathing is a trend – it’s a staple food for more than half the world’s population, remember – but it’s undeniable that koshihikari has become the Next Big Rice in restaurants of a certain stripe. But while so much attention has been on this strain of soft, lustrous short-grain, most commonly grown and threshed in the paddies of Japan, we forgot to look somewhere else: the Mekong.

It’s here that the joint holders of the World’s Best Rice competition (that’s a real thing, by the way) call home. One of them, ST25, a saline-tolerant variety of jasmine rice with dry, elastic grains and a scent of pandan leaves, is a three-time winner.

Want to try? Head to Lua by Luke Nguyen and order the king prawn claypot. Prise the meat from the shells, savour the way the bun rieu bisque – a clever repurposing of Vietnam’s crab noodle soup – adds oceanic depth, then dig into the rice: finished over fire, it’s fluffy on top and thrillingly crisp underneath like the best com chay.

Is ST25 an obvious move at a Vietnamese restaurant? Sure. But sometimes the obvious move is the right one. Not every restaurant in the new fish market has centred its menu so strongly around seafood, but Lua has: run your eyes over the menu and it’s oysters, crab, coral trout, swordfish, bugs and pipis for days.

And then it’s also done a good thing by following the Mekong upstream, drawing in Nguyen’s Vietnamese heritage, his connection to Thailand and his TV work in South-East Asia, then tying it to Australia and all its influences.

Start with something raw, and warm anise spice dresses wagyu “pho” tartare, plated with crackling rice paper crisps. Even if the gel on top doesn’t quite capture the depth of the soup, it’s a hell of an entry point. Better in execution are the oysters “flambadou”, a spin on a French party dish that sees the bivalves finished with a stream of molten wagyu beef tallow, set alight in the firepit. The result is oysters that are just warmed through, the fat carrying nuoc cham and chilli-crunch flavour.

It may seem strange to say it, but despite Nguyen’s profile and involvement with Red Lantern in Darlinghurst, which closed after 23 years last November, right now he’s something of an unknown quantity. Until Lua launched, his only other functional Sydney venues were Fat Noodle, a 24-hour operation on the gaming floor of The Star, and the event-led restaurant in the Botanic Gardens.

Lua is not only a reminder of Nguyen’s pedigree, but also a genuine attempt to create something new. Cocktails, including a blistering Fire Margarita infused with pandan, Phu Quoc pepper and Nguyen’s house chilli sauce, are one example.

Desserts are another: a cascade of fish-sauce caramel over coconut sorbet is salted caramel on steroids, while a scoop of tiramisu that subs in salted coconut cream for zabaglione and Vietnamese coffee for espresso is just the right amount of inventive. It’s been inconsistent across visits, but when the ratios are right, I’d come here for this and this alone.

Lua is also the restaurant that’s done the best job with the fish market’s limitations. Prime real estate here is given to the fryers and sushi counters, which close early, with the sit-down restaurants relegated to the fringes. The market still feels like a ghost town at night, but there are views over Blackwattle Bay from every seat, and Lua’s blend of textures – wood, tiles, marble – lights up every time the firepit flares. It’s stayed steadily busy, too.

Another sign of Nguyen’s ambition? His chefs. Nguyen isn’t on deck all the time, but in Barry Ngo (ex-Chin Chin) and Jason Chan (Queen Chow’s former head chef, who also ran the intriguing Rice Kid), he’s signed two cooks on the rise. No doubt it’s thanks to Chan that the coral trout dumplings, tinted blue and textured with calamari and prawn, are so sweet and plump. And it’s Ngo’s late mum’s recipe that sees the live mud crab tossed with tamarind and chilli sauce, cua rang me style. The polish on the floor doesn’t match the skill in the kitchen, but it’s a high bar.

If you didn’t bring a squad to tackle a whole crustacean or a banquet, consider the market fish (today, mahi mahi) wrapped in banana leaves and grilled over coals. The sauce and presentation says Cambodian, the nest of herbs speaks Vietnamese. If only you had the world’s best rice to spoon it over – oh, wait.

Since the new fish market opened, it feels like we’ve been waiting for a restaurant to become the new headliner. Right now, Lua has every ingredient – star chef, sound concept, deep talent – to be it. Bring them all together, level up the execution and, like ST25, it might just scoop the pool.

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

This review was originally published in Good Weekend magazine