Previous SlideNext Slide

Kreamu in Cabramatta has the soul-reviving effect of a tropical holiday, thanks to its zesty sorbettos and Vietnamese-inspired gelato. The sugarcane and calamansi flavour has bracing lime shreds and roasted peanuts, and feels supercharged by a cheering surge of sunshine. It’s the most refreshing scoop I’ve tried this year.

The dessert also freeze-frames an essential Cabramatta activity: grabbing a sugarcane juice from a nearby drink stand. “We wanted to capture that in a sorbetto form,” says Yvonne Huynh, who runs Kreamu with sister Chantelle and mother Amy Phan. Their dessert parlour opened in December in John Street. “Cabramatta is the heart of Vietnamese culture in Sydney,” says Yvonne. “That’s why it really made sense for us to start there.”

It’s also logical in other ways. Walk through Cabramatta and the Asian grocers you pass are open-air perfume samplers of durian and other tropical ingredients you’ll find in Kreamu’s freezer cabinet. The shop’s colourful rows feature flavours such as pink dragonfruit and longan, purple soursop and butterfly-pea tea, light-gold jackfruit and other offerings in sunny shades. The full-blaze glow of passionfruit matches its wonderfully unrestrained flavour.

Staff generously grant as many samples as you like, and it’s worth test-driving what’s on offer: do you prefer tangy tamarind and peanut, salty ambarella and apricot, or the full-strength smokiness of Vietnamese coffee? It’s a good bias check, too – I would’ve skipped the flan flavour, but a Kreamu employee (who ranked it has her No.1 choice) talked me into it and I’m glad she did: the custardy, caramel-rich notes fully evoke the French-inspired dessert the Vietnamese turned into their own – banh flan.

The same enthusiastic worker also swayed me into ordering the jackfruit sorbetto, and it was the most joyfully amped-up version of the ingredient I’ve ever tasted: the fruit’s funky bass notes are there, and a melodious jangle of sweetness, too.

Kreamu’s desserts are inspired by many family memories, from fruit platters served by grandma to their late grandfather’s caffeine habits. “We used to always steal sips of his coffee,” Chantelle recalls fondly.

Her mother grew up in Can Tho, in the Mekong Delta, and came to Australia after the Vietnam War. Some of the menu showcases flavours Phan missed, such as after-school treats of ca ua (Vietnamese yoghurt). Kreamu’s version is sweetened with mango-passionfruit puree and served in frozen plastic bags. Imagine an Asian remix of a Weis Bar with a Sunnyboy from the school canteen.

If you associate black sesame with sweet Japanese lattes, Kreamu’s scoops are nuttier and more savoury, because they evoke a Vietnamese dessert soup called che me den. A sweetcorn flavour is inspired by a milky Vietnamese drink (sua bap) and pudding (che bap).

In March, Kreamu opened its second store in Marrickville, another area with a strong Vietnamese community (it’s also where the sisters grew up). The menus are near identical, although Marrickville features more of the vegan sorbetto range. Also dairy-free? The ultra-refreshing plum fizz drink, in which crushed ice is brightened with salted apricot preserve and the citrus tang of calamansi. It’s a great defence against warmer days.

I’ve tried to order the bo bia ngot (coconut crepes) from both shops, but they’re typically sold out – I’d love to know how they translate to ice-cream sandwich form. I’ve opted for the lychee tiramisu as a consolation prize in the meantime.

Kreamu has a multigenerational charm. For older crowds, it can offer a taste of home; for younger visitors, it’s a chance to explore roots they wish were stronger or discover Asian flavours they’re unfamiliar with. It can be a vital bridge across age groups, too.

“We’ve had so many customers come with their grandparents on the weekend,” says Yvonne. “I think it’s the most beautiful thing to see.”