If you’re driving north on Tha Deua, a main drag that runs parallel to the Mekong River here in Vientiane, and you want to get to our house, just turn right at the sign for Waterside Pub and Restaurant. We’ve been using that landmark for more than a year, but it never occurred to us to actually check it out – until now.
This week it was my turn to pick the Family Night restaurant, and I decided it was about time to visit Waterside. The usual gang (with the addition of Regina, a new German teacher from Switzerland) met at our house at 6:30, and we formed a motorbike convoy to the restaurant. A small Waterside sign indicated where to turn, but Carol thought the thatched-roof-hut-cum-noodle-shop next to the sign WAS the Waterside, so she slowed down and started to park. As if! We drove down the dirt road, dodging a few napping dogs, and turned in to possibly the most surprising Family Night pick so far.
Waterside was a huge venue, complete with its own “Sport Clup” and soccer field.
Fake palm trees, lots of twinkly lights, bubbling fountains and ponds with pink water lilies created a festive atmosphere. A little stage with dangling faux flower garlands, two tall chairs and microphones suggested the possibility of (a) live music, or (b) karaoke, either of which would have been fine by me.
Only one other table was occupied, and later we deduced it was the restaurant owner and his family. Yet the furniture was new-ish and clean, and the decor was relatively classy. We’re guessing this place is hopping on the weekends.
A young man took our drink order – Beer Lao, what else? Tony declared him to be the least attractive Beer Lao Girl of all the Family Night restaurants.
Then a sweet woman named Lee approached the table and explained that she was friends with the restaurant owner. “He doesn’t speak English, so I can help,” she said. Good thing! The whole menu was in Lao with no meaningful illustrations.
We put her in charge of ordering, encouraging her to pick five of the best dishes. We tried to express our preference for food free of faces, blood or bones, but she didn’t really understand. She told us her mother was presently on a trip to Toronto, so we hoped she might have some understanding of our western pickiness.
Before the food arrived, I recognized the first few notes of “Hotel California” and felt the call of the stage. I climbed up one of the tall chairs and sang a few verses into the mic (which was off, much to everyone’s relief).
Lee’s choices mostly got high marks. Although the portions were tiny, we liked the flavorful deep-fried pork, fried rice, stir-fried vegetables, and whole fish fried with tomatoes and onions. The seaweed soup was less favorably received.
I was sipping the broth when Tony said, “At least eat a potato.”
Carol and Nikki said in unison, “That’s not a potato; it’s tofu.”
“Well, I’m done with that then,” Tony said.
I like tofu, but I wasn’t thrilled with the seaweedy flavor.
Before long, a “band” showed up and played Lao music, which Carol said was out of tune. Sometimes it’s good to be tone deaf (not when you’re trying to learn a language with six distinct tones, though). Tony especially appreciated the duo’s excessive use of chimes to accentuate the sappy nature of their songs.
The verdict? Waterside would be a fun place for a big group to hang out, eat, drink and kick around a soccer ball. Next time, we’ll order more pork and less soup.
