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SA Weekend restaurant review – The Little Rickshaw at Aldinga

A modern Asian eatery that started in a shed in a historic part of Aldinga is the best kind of surprise, writes Simon Wilkinson.

Trini and Mike Richards at The Little Rickshaw Restaurant in Aldinga. Picture: Matt Turner
Trini and Mike Richards at The Little Rickshaw Restaurant in Aldinga. Picture: Matt Turner

Given the upheaval and disruption of a year like no other, it’s refreshing to finish this column for 2020 with a surprise of the positive kind.

The Little Rickshaw at Aldinga is like a totally unexpected Christmas gift. Even the glowing reports of a few trusted sources failed to prepare me for a place that owners Mike and Trinh Richards have grown carefully and quietly into something special. It really is one of a kind.

TLR began three years ago selling takeaway cold rolls and salads at a weekend market. That has evolved into a short menu of “Modern South-East Asian” food, a term that too often signals a hotchpotch of fried bits and curries put together with little consideration or cultural depth.

Not here. Trinh is uncompromising in her research and preparation, melding the Vietnamese cooking she has learnt from her mum (who still helps out) with the experiences of her reading and travels.

Forget half-hearted renditions of salt and pepper squid. TLR’s calamari is hauled in off Normanville, soaked in a concoction of 17 ingredients and grilled hard and fast. Whole ducks are broken down so the fat can be rendered and bones turned into stock. Edible succulents are foraged from the nearby beach. Even dessert is a major production number.

While this might all sound rather restaurant-y, the rest of the package is anything but.

The Little Rickshaw Restaurant in Aldinga on November 13, 2020. Picture: Matt Turner
The Little Rickshaw Restaurant in Aldinga on November 13, 2020. Picture: Matt Turner

TLR is located in a historic compound of sheds and outbuildings on the road into Aldinga. Starting with the old blacksmith’s workshop, Mike and Trinh have slowly expanded into an adjacent structure they cobbled together in the same style. The rambling, makeshift feel of it all brings to mind a hawker stall or an old shanty town.

Formalities are kept to a minimum but the important details are handled properly, despite the challenge of serving different spaces divided by steps and recalcitrant doors. Advice is sound, extra plates and cutlery arrive when necessary, and timing is staged so selections arrive in a steady, unrushed flow.

Even the simple stuff is exemplary. The rice paper wrappers on two Hanoi-style spring rolls are shaped into identical cylinders and fried until lightly tanned. They are filled with a finely shredded mix of veg including cabbage, carrot and black fungus that adds an extra textural intrigue. Bite in carefully, however, if you want to keep the skin on the roof of your mouth.

A similar warning extends to the molten pulp inside a wedge of fried eggplant covered in a five-spice coating that shatters like a glass bauble that’s dropped from the Christmas tree. The eggplant is stuffed into a steamed bao with pickled daikon and cabbage, lemongrass sambal, black sesame aioli and fried enoki. All that work and it’s gone in a flash, other than the dribble of aioli that is left to lick from fingers.

Trinh’s pork belly is something to behold and has been a fixture since the start. The secret, she says, is a marinade involving red bean curd that starts breaking down the meat, meaning it can be cooked more quickly at a higher heat. Thick slices of the pork, layered like a geological cross-section, come with a shredded papaya and mint salad, woven mats of vermicelli noodle and nuoc cham.

The Little Rickshaw’s crispy Szechuan fish gua bao. Picture: Chia Wu
The Little Rickshaw’s crispy Szechuan fish gua bao. Picture: Chia Wu

The preparation of the duck is more complex again and begins with a two-day soak in its own secret cure. This results in slices of breast that are firm and shiny at the centre, like the best prosciutto, while the boned-out leg is dark, gnarled and intensely meaty. Both are drizzled with a reduction sauce that makes all the work with the carcasses worthwhile.

The squid is presented whole, with the tentacles blackened by the grill and tube sliced almost through so it looks like one of those Slinky spring toys. An iridescent orange Gochujang sauce glows like the last minutes of sunset at Aldinga beach.

For the kind of refreshment you might get from taking a dip in that water, finish with a bowl of yuzu granita topped with coconut sorbet and a kaffir lime leaf dust. The alternative is a miso caramel ice cream buried beneath sweet and salty chips of Jerusalem artichoke that is definitely a dessert to share.

Even with its outside tables, The Little Rickshaw has limited space and no bookings are available for the rest of 2020. But if holidays take you anywhere near this beautiful part of our coastline, I can’t think of a better way to kick off the new year.

Original URL: https://www.adelaidenow.com.au/lifestyle/food/sa-weekend-restaurant-review-the-little-rickshaw/news-story/144ff2e6866de51122a9e6a78301b94d