When I moved to London at the end of January 2020, Peckham's Rye Lane was the first road I walked down with all of my things — one huge, night blue check-in suitcase as heavy as me, a slightly smaller trolley, a cabin bag, and a worn-out, stuffed-to-the-brim leather backpack. The discomfort I felt in carrying so much weight by myself as I waited for a bus to my East Dulwich flat isn't the only thing that cemented that scene in my brain. It was the peak of winter. Like in the most classic of British memories, it drizzled, the rain so fine you could barely see it, and yet it drenched you, still. But even then, on the gloomiest of Tuesday nights, long before lending its backdrop to Raine Allen Miller's 2023 namesake romantic comedy film, the South East London street bustled with life.
People of all ages and backgrounds took turns on the sidewalk, so busy it was along the family-run food stalls, butchers, and fish shops that, blending in with more recently opened pubs, restaurants, clubs, and cocktail bars, dot the road. Cyclists, takeaway delivery riders, and double-decker buses all whizzed by. I remember finding the frenzy slightly intimidating at the time, but the truth is, there couldn't have been a better introduction to a city famed for its relentless energy. Heading out for dinner at Lai Rai, the Vietnamese canteen-style eatery that opened last month at 181 Rye Ln, but already shows the potential of some of the best restaurants in London, is enough to have me re-live that memory.
Inside Lai Rai, Peckham's Coolest New Vietnamese
When a colleague and I approach its striped, red and white awning at a quarter past six in the evening, we are met with a similar coming and going. A skater zooms through. A group of university students walks past. Finally, we are in. Inside, the noise of the street gives way to murmuring chitchat, a great lo-fi music playlist, and occasional laughter. We have hardly entered the space when I notice the contrast between the atmosphere of Lai Rai and the outside. Drenched in butter yellow paint, with both The Shining-red resin floors and the matt stainless steel bar refracting the movements that shake up its indoors, the restaurant doesn't just bring a splash of color to Rye Lane. It has something mysterious to it — much to the allure of the space. Blame it on the pounding neon lights and kitchen butcher curtain on the ground floor, but I can't help but feel like on the set of a Wong Kar-Wai film.
Joseph Losper and Tomio Shota of London-based spatial design studio house of baby were invited to imagine Lai Rai by co-founders Blair Nguyen and Ivy Vo of South London snack collective 𝒱ℐ𝒩𝒜𝒳𝒪𝒜 and visual artist AP Nguyen, the then General Manager of its sibling restaurant in Peckham, Bánh Bánh. Describing their practice, which finds its roots in food, theater, fine art, and digital design, as "distinctive, experiential, and cinematic", they explain Lai Rai was born as "an emotionally and culturally resonant, living artwork", and was shaped by their backgrounds.
Known for their whimsical, tongue-in-cheek approach to anything from textile artworks and stage clothes to wavy tufted rugs, house of baby's physical environments are where all of their interests collide. It isn't just me feeling disoriented at Lai Rai: "we create immersive settings that feel like stepping into a memory, or a story you can't quite place," Joseph and Tomio tell me. Looking around the lower level, the softly glowing, spherical sconces in opaque glass and the unexpected, vintage-looking café curtains — two staples of Parisian style decor — look weirdly in synch with the metal-clad fitting, the lacquered stools, and the cartoony visual branding that, together, infuse the location with a subtle Y2K theme. I guess fusing more worlds into one was part of the brief.
From Hanoi's Bia Hơi Culture to South East London — Food and Drinks That Spark Connection
Intrigued by Lai Rai's retro-futuristic aesthetic? Get on the chrome trend with this set of silver chopsticks by Christofle. They are durable, nostalgic, and will make your table shine.
Natalia Criado's metal decor is on show at the dinner parties of the coolest hosts I know. So if you want to set the bar high style-wise, get your hands on her timeless designs.
Silver serveware is for life, so if you are looking to buy a piece to treasure for years, Christofle might have what you are after. We can't call it cheap — but it's made to last, and it certainly won't go overlooked.
From the dramatic silver staircase tucked behind a wall on the left-hand side, we reach our counter seat upstairs, and so the vibe switches over again. But first, drinks. My colleague, Emma Breislin, gets a taste of home with the Doom Juice Weiß, which blends aromatic Gewürztraminer and nutty, crisp Vermentino into a light, refreshing wild ferment white from South Australia. I read "Muscat" and immediately decide to go for the orange Souvenir, whose bold citrus, floral, and fruity notes — but very dry profile — make an invigorating choice for a hot summer day. Impatient to try the food, we order that, too.
In Vietnamese, Lai Rai translates to "little by little", an expression local people use to capture the warming feeling of moments spent sipping drinks and sharing meals with family and friends. The eatery, which goes from a café serving fragrant bánh mi baguettes and smaller treats, along with viet coffee and tea, in the AM to a suggestively atmospheric dining destination in the darker hours, is largely inspired by Bia Hơi culture — the ritual of gathering in the streets to socialize over a glass of fresh draft beer, snacks at hand. And so we lean into it.
Emma and I kick things off with Lai Rai's unmissable prawn lollies, a melt-in-your-mouth ball of goodness with a soft heart of prawns, served on a sweet and sour bed of fish sauce satay and fresh herbs, with a coating of popped young rice and (delicious?!) sugarcane for a stick. I am GF, and so I can't eat them, but if her caramelized, slow-braised pork belly pieces taste half as good as they look, you won't regret throwing them into the mix. Presented as a salad-style dish of lemongrass, crushed peanuts, and cucumber, with perilla leaves to assemble it into taco-like bites, the beef tartare feels as nourishing as appetizing, largely thanks to the herb's cooling note, which cuts through the meatiness of it (just make sure to hone your chopstick game if you come here on a date).
I find the crispy chicken leg, swimming in a lake of tangy garlic and basil sauce, simply superlative — its skin crisped up to perfection and crunchy on the bite, the flesh moreish and tender. The betel-leaf beef patties that follow, meanwhile, with spiced red pepper bits in them and placed on coffee BBQ sauce, might well have shown me another way to integrate caffeine into the everyday, though at that stage I am so minced-up I could take them or leave them. Luckily, there is dessert to take the edge off. Keen to try some of the best ice cream in London? At Lai Rai, you are in for a treat. During our dinner, the only flavor available is the extravagant fish sauce caramel one, but New Cross Gate-based Clingy Wrap's gelato experimentation breaks all prejudices, and mind you, it is a sassy Italian speaking. It comes sprinkled in a crumble of fried onions and nuts, but trust me when I say that its luscious-savory combo grants the ultimate end to a night you won't forget.
"A Memory From a Place You've Never Actually Been" — house of baby
Contrast wasn't only key to the ideation of Lai Rai's surprising menu: it is an idea that underpinned much of house of baby's work for this recently inaugurated Peckham site. Downstairs, diners become one with "the incessant flow of new guests and the action of the bar, while also enjoying a peek at the kitchen through the PVC curtain," they explain. Up the staircase, "things get more surreal, with minty green floors, halo lighting, and long communal tables". The eatery's dual ambiance was partly dictated by the narrow architecture of the location, the two recount. But "rather than trying to unify the distinct features that characterized the space, we created two different atmospheres that still feel connected," they say.
A lot of Lai Rai's charm lies in its ability to transport you to other worlds; to the vibrant streets of Vietnam's capital, Hanoi, in its finger-foodie, social understanding of cuisine, which dilutes time to allow for meaningful exchanges and a prolonged enjoyment of the delicacies served in-house, and to an in-between dimension via its retro-futuristic decor, where the "familiar is made strange, and the strange is made familiar". Perhaps, then, the placement of a James Turrell-inspired, gently burning porthole window on the ceiling of the top floor isn't just an aesthetic device, but an invitation to look at what surrounds you under a new light, quite literally. "Visible from street level, it gives the room a quiet glow and a sense of character beyond the expectations of a typical restaurant," house of baby explain, adding that they wanted "Lai Rai to feel slightly dislocated from everyday life, as if you've slipped sideways into a parallel reality — a memory from a place you've never actually been." Hypnotic, the mellow portal also lures you in. You know it: I am going back this week.
