Rym Tarng is a first. The first time we’ve reviewed a dine-in take-away shop; the first time we’ve reviewed a restaurant with just three tables; the first time for years we’ve reviewed a BYO venue.

Why did we bother? We almost didn’t because when we arrived it was an “oh shit” moment.

“It’s just a takeaway,” I murmured to my buddy. But we persisted because we had had a few positive comments from readers, all of them along the lines of “you gotta try this”.

There is no social media buzz about Rym Tarng, no TikTok vids, no lavishly photoshopped Insta pics – just word of mouth, people actually talking without pictures and videos. I know, old school, right?

My pal Harry The Wine Seller brought a cracking wine. I brought a Leeuwin Art Series Riesling because aromatic wines tend to go well with Asian flavours. Good choice, as it turned out.

There was a lot of wok-clanging and plate-banging going on in the background and the loud singsong cadences of Thai, which always sounds like a happy language.

It reminded us of those roadside street hawkers that appear from nowhere at about 6pm on some of Bangkok’s busiest thoroughfares. The smells, the sounds, the shouty to-and-fro between the cooks.

Let’s begin at the end. For mains we ordered a Thai green chicken curry because it is a benchmark of sorts. As soon as it hit the table, we realised this Thai restaurant doesn’t use the green curry paste that comes in big tubs and is used by many Thai restaurants.

Rather than a lurid green sauce, this was a dark khaki-coloured sauce with a smear of oil floating on top. The dish was full of tender, just-cooked chicken and those little round Thai eggplants which pop when you eat them.

And because it wasn’t an industrial paste, the flavours were exceptional.

It wasn’t spicy enough for our tastes, but we were in Bicton and a restaurant has to play to its audience.

The best, most authentic Thai cuisine in Perth can be found at Long Chim in the city. It is the Thai by which we measure all other Thai food in WA. Rym Tarng’s green curry came close to its fresh, thundering, riotous flavours. Great job.

At the top end of the meal, we ordered a pork and prawn donut and that’s exactly what arrived. Had we stumbled into Krispy Kreme?

They were precisely the right size and dimension for a donut, but the interior was anything but: a fine grind of pork and prawn meat bound with herbs and seasoning. There was a backbeat of fish sauce and Shaoxing wine and a bowl of sticky sweet plum sauce for dipping and slurping.

“I hope you’re not going to review it. It’s our favourite spot and we don’t want it to get too busy.”

Three donuts for $13.50 was a bargain. They were so filling, we almost downed tools at that stage. But we’re trained professionals, so we ploughed on.

Fried chicken wings were coated in a light caramel made with fish sauce – and lots of it. The fish sauce pong was spectacular and added a complex salty smackdown. Nothing much to it, but what the cooks had done was just right. They were deep-fried without coating and then presumably sent to the wok to take on their caramel sauce.

Chicken satay skewers were OK. Nothing wrong with them. Fine, but just OK.

We like our som tum – Thai papaya salad – as hot as a stolen Glock. The owner gave us a warning that it might be too spicy. It was not. It was perfectly made to order in the traditional and massive wooden mortar and pestle which allows the ingredients to do a round of speed dating before coalescing into a super fresh tangy, salty sour salad.

The unmistakable pok, pok, pok sound of pestle slamming into mortar was heartening. The garlic, fish sauce flavours were in balance and the sour julienne of green mango was predominant and refreshing. A ripper. More chilli please!

Pad Thai can be a lottery in Perth. Often they come out gluggy and with flavours indistinct and muddy.

Thailand’s most famous stir-fry was done just right at Rym Tarng. Rice noodles weren’t sticking to each other and they still had chew. There was enough of the salty sour sauce to keep everything juicy. Super-fresh bean shoots and a wedge of lime brought out the freshness and cut through the wok fried egg at the base of this famous, much traduced, noodle dish.

We reckon we found a little gem in Rym Tarng. Its street food cred is spelled out in its name – Rym Tarng means “on the side of the road” – and carries though to its well-made hawker-style Thai dishes.

Rym Tarng’s five tables are highly sought after, so best to book online. It’s mostly a take-away joint, but having the food served direct from stove to you makes a huge difference, so sit down if you can.

As we left, an older bloke leaned over and asked, “I hope you’re not going to review it. It’s our favourite spot and we don’t want it to get too busy.”

His inquiry was revealing. Most people ask: “What did you think of it?” He didn’t even consider the possibility that we might give it a bad write-up. He assumed we would be raving about it.

Which we are.

Sorry mate.