Swai

Of all the world’s culinary styles, Malaysian food, because of its sheer diversity, is the hardest to get a handle on. The Malays, the people who inhabit the Malayan Peninsula and some of the nearby islands, including the east coast of Sumatra, the coast of Borneo and smaller islands that lie between the area, were originally a seafaring people, by necessity, communicative with their neighbours. Malay culture and cuisine has been strongly influenced by that of the people of neighbouring lands, including Thailand, Java, Sumatra and India. The influence of Hindu India was historically very great and some Hindu rituals survive even today in Malay culture. The influence has carried over into the cuisine. New and unique versions of Indian food were created in Malaysia and are now incorporated into the cook’s repertoire..
Chinese merchants and traders have long ago been linked to the Malayan Peninsula, initially via Malacca, a strategic trading post and a link to other traders from afar. In the 19th century the Chinese came en masse to the Peninsula, the majority employed in the fast-developing tin mining industry. Many of their descendants are still there.
There’s a European influence, too – dominance of the Peninsula and the surrounding territories was disputed by Portuguese, Dutch and British over many years. Chuck in native dishes from Borneo and you have a sort of culinary Tower of Babel. In Kuala Lumpur you can go into a restaurant and order a Tom Yum, followed by dim sum, followed by a curry, all given a Malaysian twist.
We’ve not seen much in the way of Malaysian food here. Langkawi, in Upper Baggot Street, has been flying the flag for years and has a strong following; there’s a Malaysian-Chinese restaurant in Stoneybatter that I haven’t yet visited; the various branches of Mao include some Malaysian dishes on their pan-Oriental menu; and, the other night, I came, entirely by chance, across Swai, a recent addition to the genre, on North Wall Quay.
Swai, directly across the road from the Clarion Hotel, occupies what can only be described as ‘a box’ on the quayside. There’s a look of impermanence, as though they’re waiting for a mobile crane to pick the edifice up and winch it aboard a cargo ship for transportation to foreign climes. Going in, I had the vague notion that the box formerly contained another restaurant, concerning which I had torn up a review (for the one and only time) because the proprietor seemed at the end of his tether.
The interior was decently tricked up in Malaysian garb, apart from the contemporary round tables and sizeable, stylish (though bum-numbing) white plastic wing-back chairs. I was on my own as I’d just got back from the Scottish isle of Islay where a malt-induced befuddlement and a dearth of mobile coverage prevented me from contacting one of the usual suspects. Anyhow, I needed to eat and there was nothing in the house as Sibella was welding her freckles together on the French Riviera. The rather glum waitress, most likely Malaysian, motioned me to one of the two Sad Billy No-Mates tables in the corridor by the jacks. There was no way she was going to let me occupy a table for four even though Swai was two-thirds empty on that Monday night.
Swinging immediately into multi-cultural mode, I took a Tom Yam, a spicy soup more usually associated with Thailand. Let me say here and now it was the best I’ve had at any restaurant in Dublin and that includes the town’s top Thais. Replete with goodies including a variety of seafood, it was in no way dumbed-down, nicely chilli-spiked and perfect for the pissy-downy night that was in it.
I followed the Tom Yam with a dish of scallops, seven plump rascals, caramelised on top and bottom, served with a sweet chilli sauce that wasn’t, thanks be, the usual omnipresent commercial jam. By now the restaurant was over half full. The waitress seemed cheered-up following a conversation with a table of four Singaporean businessmen and came over to ask me was I enjoying the food.
The wine list was nobody’s labour of love; simply a “give us what sells” assortment from one of the major players. Anyhow, there was no point in going OTT with all this heat around. I took a glass of an Aussie Semilion-Chardonnay called Wild Earth, which was actually better than I expected.
For a main, I collared a fillet of beef rendang, a dry, pungent red-style curry typical of the region, with plain boiled rice. Again, portions were generous. The curry well done; you could pick up various spices without the blend falling apart. Difficult to explain, but always the test of a good curry. With a topping of tofu and okra (ladies’ fingers) it took me some time to get to the beef. It might have been real fillet. It could equally have been tenderised striploin but in the atmospheric, i.e. ‘dim’ lighting, I couldn’t see. What flavour it had had seeped into the curry.
I finished with a pot of Chinese tea by which time the waitress, while not exactly cracking jokes, had thawed enough for me to leave a tip. By the third cup I decided I liked Swai except for one thing: it’s on the wrong side of the Quays. This is not a Southsider’s bias, just that the view would be better. The North side, all the way from Heuston to the Point, is so much more attractive.

Swai, Unit B, The Campshires, North Wall Quay, Dublin 1 Tel: 01 856 1633

The Damage: €51 for soup, starter, main, rice, 2 glasses wine, Chinese tea

Ambience: ***1/2

Quality: ****

Service: ***

Value: ****

Overall: ***1/2