Longrain Melbourne restaurant review 2023: Kara Monssen visits Thai classic

Longrain shot to the top of Melbourne’s restaurant charts in the early 2000s — but is this old classic still a hit two-decades on?

Scott Pickett may have saved Melbourne’s Thai empress from facing the same fate as its Sydney sibling — so does this classic pass the test with a new gen of eaters? Picture: Alex Squadrito

If Thai food were a song, it’d bring the funk.

An excitable energy, with a spicy tempo, thumping sour bass and squealing lime vocals.

It has that grippy, fast, fresh and fried fun. Quenching cocktails, tropical fruits, toasty peanuts, kaffir lime and tingling-heat giddiness.

A riot of colour, texture and aromas – all something I never experienced at Longrain in its heyday. That’s right, my first ever experience of what some may dub Melbourne’s most famous Thai was last month.

Saay what? Cue the gasps and head-turning judgment.

I’ve tried iterations of Longrain at the tennis one year, but I’ve never sunk lychee martinis with the gals or sweated over a plate of laap at its Little Bourke St warehouse base.

When restaurateur Sam Christie and chef Martin Boetz first opened the Sydney venue in 1999, my diet consisted of playground Vegemite sandwiches and Sunnyboys.

And, in 2005, when Melbourne scored an outpost thanks to John and Lisa van Haandel, I was too busy parting my side fringe and perfecting my duck pout without a social media care in the world.

This classic hasn’t left Longrain’s menu. Picture: Alex Squadrito.

Another firm favourite: the betel leaf. Picture: Alex Squadrito.

Yet, after almost two decades of disco hits, and a brief 2020 pause when the music stopped, Longrain 2.0 is back for a boogie in its Pickett Group-era.

Ol’ Scotty may have saved the stalwart facing the same fate as its Coathanger City sibling in 2019 but how will his take on “one of the classics” stand up to a new gen of eaters?

Head chef Long Le’s wok tricks stick to the original script.

The betel leaves ($8 each): a salty, sweet and sour hook of prawn meat, roasted peanuts and herbs. Rock on.

Another classic casts an ultra fine egg net ($38) over a domed Thai salad – a flavour and textural mess of pomelo, beanshoots, lime leaves, herbs and candied peanuts and sweet spanner crab. (PS: They do half serves if you’re strapping in.)

It’s chirpy, yet nowhere near enough face-melting squawk I’d hoped for, sitting pretty in that “people-pleasing spice” threshold.

Even the som tum ($18), usually a snoz-blowing affair of racy raw papaya, snake beans, hot chillies and tamarind tang didn’t tickle the nostrils too much.

I’m told half of Longrain’s menu is new, with Pickett’s mitts all over those sticky lamb ribs ($32 for four). His classic move of dressing Aussie produce in a cultural get-up sees slow-cooked meat, whacked on the barbie and glossed in a sticky sweet brown sauce. Graciously good, though not overly memorable.

Those sweet and sticky lamb ribs have Pickett’s fingerprints all over them. Picture: Alex Squadrito.

Just add lychee martinis. Picture: Alex Squadrito.

I did rate that crunchy Beechworth pinot noir in our red meat interlude, especially with the southern red beef curry ($42).

The tender wagyu and gravy is electrified by an aniseedy Thai basil undercurrent throughout and, after some initial resistance, took home best on plate with its earthy aromatics and pensive spice. Bravo.

Longrain 2.0 may lack those rock-star, “I must come back for this” moments, yet I surprisingly found comfort in the familiar take on lemon meringue tart ($18); made instead with Japanese citrus curd, whipped coconut cream, macarons and zippy grapefruit segments.

There may be more Thai fusion restaurants cutting shapes on Melbourne’s culinary dance floor these days, but Longrain isn’t shy of busting the occasional move while bopping along in the corner.