MuMu

18 March 2022, 8pm

Although we wouldn’t complain, a restaurant can’t just get by on good food anymore. No one knows this better than Justin Hemmes, who with each Merivale opening conjures a feast not only in the traditional sense, but indeed, for each and every sense. MuMu, his most recent venture with chef Dan Hong, is no exception.

Our arrival went something like this. It’s Friday night in the Sydney CBD. A sea of people gathers outside in the downpour hoping to nab a table. And no wonder – the aromas from inside are tantalizing – a bit smoky, a bit nutty, very spicy, very limey. We push our way through to front of house, having had the foresight to book. 

We get our first glance of the room – it’s mayhem, in a good way. Tables are full, waiters run around, bartenders shake cocktails and cooks control their woks, alight with flame in the open kitchen. Psychedelic prints and neon lights adorn the walls, and upbeat disco fills our ears. We’re not sure if we’re at a night market in Singapore or a night club in the 1980s. We are led to our seats at an enormous bar made of bright orange resin. We notice everything surrounding us is colourful as well. 

Don’t come for privacy – you may be sitting on top of another diner, and you may get served their dessert halfway through your starter as a result. But hey – after two years of social distancing, this is all very fun. The multitasking staff are so impressive, showing no hint of panic as they’re compelled to clear and re-set the spot next to you while simultaneously explaining the menu and remembering your order.

I was desperate for a cheerful cocktail to match the mood, and the Found in Pattaya did not disappoint. Based on rum and mango, I loved that it was tropical in flavour but refined in look, served in a champagne coupe with a simple wedge of lime. But oops – I got cocky. While my next selection, the rum and coconut based Java Jazz, was equally delicious, the pandan leaf garnish all but screamed “I’m on vacation on a desert island!”

Speaking of vacations – we wouldn’t mind going on one, and the “epic, multi-stop trip to Malaysia, Singapore, Hong Kong, Taiwan and Vietnam” that Hemmes took with Hong and others in 2019 sounds pretty good. The menu at MuMu is inspired by “everything they ate along the way”, and you can tell – it is an expansive travelogue of deliciousness which you better study beforehand or you’ll never be able to decide. Seriously – you’ll end up eating leftover MuMu for two nights like some friends of ours (…) did.

First up, we had a Grilled scallop with scallion relish, peanuts and lime each. The scallops were unbelievable – pleasantly smooth and tender, but mainly there to soak up the surrounding flavours. The combination of peanut and lime lent an almost burnt butter vibe, so that it was nutty and rich, yet fresh and light, all in one.

Next, we tried the Vietnamese steak tartare with crab crackers. We love the concept of bringing new life to classic dishes, and this was a gorgeous example. The succulent beef paired beautifully with the bright herbs and tangy condiments, not to mention the puffed cracker (which we might now prefer over crisped bread). Our most favourite thing about this dish was its subtlety – every ingredient came together in perfect harmony, so if you are traditionally wary of tartare, this is the one to try.

Alongside the tartare, we chose the Asian herbs with leaves, alliums, ginger oil and white soy dressing. If only all salad was this good. With each bite there was a hit of dill, then mint, then garlic chive; better still polished off with a delicate Japanese-style dressing and uplifting spray of citrus.

Around this point, a plate of noodles was placed in front of me that turned out to be for my neighbour. It looked and smelled so utterly garlicky and divine that despite our main courses not having arrived, I couldn’t resist and put through an order (I only later realised how smart a business model shared tables are). 

I regretted this decision (a bit) when our Crispy skin chicken with lemongrass salsa and Vietnamese mint arrived. We’d been guided in the direction of the full serve, but a half serve would have been sufficient. The flavours were wonderful, the fragrant lemongrass garnish complementing the fatty poultry. I thought the meat was a touch dry, but the other of us assured me it was just as he’d had it in Hong Kong (and I must admit it was finger-lickin’ good the following night – yes, the “friends” I referred to earlier were us).

On the side we had the Wok-fried morning glory with enoki mushrooms, garlic and fermented chilli. This embodied everything one wants in a plate of Asian greens – it was well salted, had a nice heat, and the umami-laden sauce infused the acquiesced vegetables.

We ended with the Nasi Goreng with spanner crab, cuttlefish, garlic crackers and fried egg and of course the aforementioned noodles, being the Rice noodles with pork, holy basil, snake beans and chilli. These were good, but not great – and the prices charged probably warranted greatness. While the special ingredients elevated them somewhat, the chilli was excessive for us. The next day however, the spice had dulled a little, and we relished in our leftovers.

If you are thinking, “after all that food, there is no way these people had dessert”, you would be wrong. With most of our mains safely packed in a doggy bag, we went full steam ahead onto sweets and ordered the Vietnamese coffee tres leches cake with chocolate and hazelnut. Similar to tiramisu, it was an unfortunately less flavourful version. While coffee and cream is a match made in heaven, in this instance it was interrupted by watery sponge and a crunch of granulated sugar throughout.

Lasting impressions, you ask?

MuMu typifies all things Merivale – it’s a well-oiled machine, an undeniable cash cow, and there’s just nothing else like it in Sydney. Come on a Friday or Saturday to take advantage of the buzzy atmosphere (read: breathtaking chaos of a hawker market). But remember, while fluorescent signs looming at the entrance proclaim “MUMU 4 U”, it’s not for the faint hearted. MuMu may (or may not) be a restaurant for you – but it’s certainly one for us.