Ms.G’s is the Asian riposte to the dude movement. It’s fun, furious and fabulous, although its cheeky rule-bending attracts diner controversy (battered cutlery, paper napkins and plastic straws in metal buckets on each table - cool or fool?). With its graffiti-forward fit-out as irreverently hip as the day it opened, and the food a crazy whirl of big-assed flavour, it deserves the crowds packing this five-level no-bookings joint. Things skew snacky with mini banh mi (brioche rolls packed with pork belly and Sriracha mayo) or the pure crunch of cassava crackers with poached calamari and a creamy miso dressing. A lip-tingling salad is a smackdown between crisp pork cheek and briny-sweet clams, while excellent grilled prawns are basted in coconut and green bean salsa. Epic desserts are a meal in themselves: the sticky rice with exotic fruits and toasted Thai spices is a ‘dirty passion’ indeed.

And … That neon sign ‘six two one’? It’s the MSG additive code.

THE LOW-DOWN
Vibe Asian frat-house.
Best bit As funky as anything.
Worst bit Service? When they’re good and ready.