Every now and then in this job, the attention is drawn to a venture that sounds less like a restaurant than a parody of foodie pretension - a culinary version of Woody Allen and Diane Keaton standing in a gallery firing "jejune" at each other like plastic bullets. Generally, the word "fusion" is in close attendance.
Since the New Zealander Peter Gordon introduced the concept to Britain at the Sugar Club more than a decade ago, marrying European and Pacific Rim cooking techniques and ingredients, many outlandish combinations have been tried by those more driven to fill an imaginary gap in the market than to produce good food. My favourite was the catastrophic meeting of Italian and Japanese at a horror show called Shumi, opened and swiftly closed by Roger Moore's son, Geoffrey.
You will imagine, then, my concerns on hearing of a Vietnamese-French newcomer presided over by a Norwegian chef whose first name is Odd. The Norwegians are an immensely civilised race, but their pedigree in the kitchen tends towards the brief; "How would you fancy a summer roll filled with brine-cured herring before we begin?" might well have been what Munch said to the model of his most celebrated painting to induce the required expression.
The reality was thankfully different. Xích Lô is the Viet for rickshaw, and since it's apparently pronounced Zit Lo, you can see why they phoneticise it as they do - the last thing you want your restaurant to sound like is a commercial rival to Clearasil. In some ways, it lives up to its owner-chef's name (Odd Arne Braute, in full), being splayed over several floors near Smithfield market - a trendy bar on ground level, with eating areas above and below - and boasting above the gents' urinals some dainty plastic orchids. Miniature rickshaws abound, the walls are brick or a soporific grey and peppered with bamboo-encased murals of Vietnamese rural life. Downstairs, where we ate opposite the open kitchen, the air-conditioning unit fought with ambient music, striking a pitch of neo-Ibsenian gloom.
The food, however, was vibrant and, at times, superb, "fusion" seemingly little more than a synonym for upmarket, prettily presented or plain delicious. There was confusion early doors about what we could order, until a delightful young Viet waiter, over here doing an MBA, explained that the fancier dinner menu was available at lunchtime after all. Mixing and matching between the two, we began with three traditional starters - zingy spring and summer rolls, plump skewered prawns marinated in coriander, and succulent beef potently flavoured with ginger, garlic and dried chilli.
Against all odds, the elaborate main courses were even better than the simple starters. Roast duck breast was eight thick, pink, juicy slices of good meat served with pickled ginger in a dense, tamarind-infused gravy, but the highlight of the meal was the catchily described "whole fish marinated with pesto and fresh herbs, garlic and chives, with a mild chilli sauce and a tower of Vietnamese pickled vegetables" - an absolute classic in which the nameless but perfectly cooked fish was yoked to a riot of strong but complementary flavourings.
Passing lightly over a word of warning - if you order the Vietnamese coffee, either stir the condensed milk well before drinking or ask for a sickbowl chaser - there is no question that this is a terrific chef with the flair to match his technical ability, and while the Odd irritant creeps in to justify that fusion tag (what is aubergine mousse doing here?), the gap his stuff falls into is the real one between those wonderful but basic Viet cafes at one end of the market and the overpriced, Eurotrashy prissiness of Vong in Knightsbridge at the other.
The place, on the other hand, is a poor showcase for his gifts, being too diffuse, anaemic and wintry for such rich, hot-blooded cooking. As the sort of modern art gallery in which critics might swap the word "jejune", it would be ideal. As a restaurant venue, it doesn't work very well at all.
Xích Lô 7/10
Telephone 020-7253 0323. Address 103 St John Street, London EC1. Open Lunch, Mon-Fri, noon-3pm; dinner, Mon-Sat, 6-11pm. Price About £15-20 a head at lunch; dinner with wine, £40-50 a head. Tasting menus available.
