Phnom Penh Restaurant Reviews: Armand’s

There’s a lot of restaurants in this town, many of them French, but when Armand’s opened it quickly shot to the top of everyone’s must-eat-here-more-often list. Affable owner Armand pulled off this feat by creating the perfect storm of location, ambience, food, and je ne sais quoi (French for something, I don’t know what.)

Stumbling in damp and half an hour late from the flooded city streets, you are nonetheless welcomed heartily, eased into a booth, and plied with wine. The rest of the crowd politely greets you and goes on with their evening, but the relaxed, pleasant vibe pervades. Part of the ambience is the crowd and present that night are such luminaries as: The pastry chef from La Residence; a local Jazz musician; some guy in suspenders. No matter if you don’t know them, everyone gets absorbed into the bonhomie. On a previous visit an older man making his way out the door suddenly stopped, asked for everyone’s attention, and performed an impromptu magic trick for the crowd, who erupted in applause while trying to figure out where his lit cigarette had actually gone.

But who cares how great the vibe is if the food doesn’t live up. Fortunately the food gives the atmosphere a run for its money. The charcuterie plate ($7) was love at first sight – a heaping platter meant as a starter that could double as a light meal.

Two enormous pieces of bruschetta flank the plate, covered in a mountain of diced tomato, onions, capers, and anchovy fillets. The bread was thick and chewy, perfect for the weight it had to carry. The name “head cheese” might inspire fear and disgust in English, but everything sounds better in French. Accordingly, the Fromage de Tete was a fabulous collection of gamey, fatty meat, literally smushed together and bound by strips of aspic. Pork Rillettes were rich and heady, similar in texture to foie gras, and with that same lush flavor. Pate en Croute was not as spectacular, but still held its own. Prosciutto and saucisson sec rounded out the plate (along with the customary gherkins and capers) both excellent though the prosciutto was incredibly salty.

Don’t get frustrated when the waitresses scratch their heads and utter a slack-jawed, local equivalent of “Huuuh?” ala Deliverance when you ask for mustard – the head waiter, who has been with Armand for years, will quickly rectify the situation. Similarly the bread basket came with no butter or olive oil, just, curiously, a dish of salt and pepper.

Long, leisurely meals are the order of the day, nothing is rushed, and once you’re ensconced, you’re really in no hurry to leave. After arm wrestling over the last of the charcuterie, your plates are cleared in leisurely fashion and the real show starts.

Order the steak flambé, as my dining companion did, and you get the added pleasure of watching Armand at work. A portable gas burner is rolled out, a bottle of cognac is procured from behind the bar, a tempting slab of raw beef is placed at the altar, and Armand begins crafting your masterpiece. If your escargots arrive at the same time, he will admonish you to eat them before they get cold and congeal – thanks dad. But the show is too good to miss and the snails need a few minutes to cool anyway.

Your steak is in good hands as it’s lovingly placed on the pan in oil, and coaxed into perfection. “Ok, get ready,” is all the warning you’ll get, before he adds the Cognac and the pan erupts in flames. A few flips and the steak is plated while Armand gathers the drippings for the sauce, and voila, your meal lands in front of you.

Your steak knife will not be needed – it is incredibly tender. Perfectly pink but not bloody, the medium rare treatment captures the essence of a great steak with just enough heat and char to the crust to bring out the rich flavors. The pepper sauce gives a nice bitter crunch complementing the texture nicely. The portion is quite large and worth $19. Note: don’t take your vegetarian friends here as there is no conciliatory salad. A tomato gratin adds some vegetable matter to the dish, along with haricots verts and fried potatoes which are a bit greasy, but if that’s the biggest complaint I’ll take it.

Tear yourself away from your dining companion’s steak before he finds a use for his steak knife, and dive into the escargots ($10). Served in six mini-tea cups, they carry the lovely briny, buttery hint of the sea. The rich, parsley flecked sauce and plump, tender snails are excellent, and finally you have something to dip the bread in. Conversation will grind to a halt as you both revel in the food, and only come up for air occasionally.

If the pastry chef from La Residence, who created a special dessert for Armand, is there, he will watch you carefully eat his beloved creation, and give you tips if he feels you are in danger of missing the most sublime part of the experience. He will also offer to pay for the dessert if you don’t love it to the point of shameless false-idol worship.

And his Saint Honoree does not disappoint. Three choux pastry balls stuffed with whipped Chantilly cream, like elegant French Twinkies, sit amid a luscious mix of caramel and milk chocolate. Your dining companion will burst into tears if you snatch the milk chocolate disc on top coated in gold leaf, so best to share with him. It is quite possibly the most pleasure you can derive legally for $5.

Overall everything blends seamlessly here: music, food, décor, staff – it’s easy to spend a whole evening here, from soup to nuts, in total comfort and indulgence. The bar stools and chairs are quite comfortable and the small table lamps cast a warm, romantic glow about the place. If it’s still pouring when you try to leave, pull up a chair at the bar with the musician and guy in suspenders, and open another bottle of wine.

Armands
Cuisines: French
33 street 108, Phnom Penh, Cambodia