Mamapen is currently London’s only Cambodian restaurant, operating as a residency in Soho pub The Sun & 13 Cantons. This might ring a bell if you follow the London food scene, as the pub has been an early platform for some of the city’s most successful chefs and restaurants including Asma Khan with Darjeeling Express, Mandy Yin and Sambal Shiok, and Budgie Montoya’s Sarap.
Chef-owner of Mamapen, Cambodian-born Kaneda Pen, looks to be the next name on that list, introducing Khmer cuisine to a wider audience in much the same way as Montoya continues to champion the flavours of the Philippines.
The dining room is happily unfussy, exactly as you would hope and expect to find in a proper pub, although brightened considerably by mid-height lighting and large mirrors lining the walls. We started with a plate of pickles and some prawn crackers dusted with sour soup seasoning, served with a smoky burnt chilli and pineapple dip which Pen needs to immediately bottle and sell, especially now that it is barbecue season. This combination is a kind of trailer for your tastebuds, tuning them in to the the complex sharp, sour, sweet and spicy flavours of Cambodian cuisine.
Probably one of Mamapen’s most talked-about menu items is their Tattie Mince Noodles, a satisfying, comforting hug of a dish. Fat, springy noodles in a rich and warming minced beef sauce with slow-cooked cottage pie vibes, but topped with fresh chilli, spring onions and cucumber; this is the kind of thing I will crave as the weather cools. Apparently the flavour mash-up was partly inspired by Pen’s Scottish girlfriend Jo Garner, pastry chef at Michelin-starred Mountain, which is a small example of the kind of natural fusion I find both interesting and exciting. For me, cuisines are like languages, living and developing; tradition can be fully honoured without stifling organic growth – but that’s another story. Let’s get back to dinner.
Khmer BBQ chicken with Shaoxing teriyaki glaze
Pickles and prawn crackers
Tattie Mince Noodles
For now, it’s a hot summer evening and I’m drawn to the Khmer BBQ chicken with a Shaoxing teriyaki glaze which comes with a sweet and sour Tuk Trey dipping sauce. Pen sometimes uses Cambodia’s geographical position to help explain the cuisine to diners, which has both fragrant spice pastes like Thailand and aromatic broths like Vietnam, and this dipping sauce reminds me a little of nuoc cham. It’s always useful when eating something new to have a reference point, as I find it easier to pin down and appreciate the differences.
It’s no surprise that the chicken is expertly cooked. Before opening his own restaurant Pen was head chef at nose-to-tail barbecue joint Flank and also worked at From The Ashes, a sustainability-driven open-fire grill spot with the mantra ‘smoke, fat, flavour’, so cooking with fire and smoke are second nature. The addictive and unapologetically big, punchy flavours of the sauce complement the juicy meat and burnished, crispy skin perfectly; it’s what every other flame-grilled chicken dish wants to be when it grows up.
Alongside the chicken we ordered their signature dish, a sour pineapple curry, with rice. If you wanted a one-stop introduction to Cambodian cuisine, you could hardly do better; the flavours reel you in from the first mouthful. (It also goes brilliantly with the chicken, I urge you to try them together.) I was concerned that it might be a little sweet, but it is perfectly, instinctively balanced. There is sweetness from the roasted, torched pineapple and sweet potato, balanced by the puckering sourness of tamarind; there is the spiciness and complexity of kroeung, an aromatic spice paste central to Cambodian cooking made from turmeric, shallots, galangal, garlic, ginger, lemongrass and lime leaf, which works with the creaminess of coconut milk. Saltiness comes from soy sauce and miso, rather than the more traditional prahok, a powerful fermented fish paste; this has the benefit of making the dish a little more accessible, not least to vegans. All in all, it’s a triumph and I can’t wait to eat it again.
I need to go back to try the pork belly and the pork toast (prawn toast is so 2024 guys) the latter of which, in a touch of genius, is topped with Drunken Master XO and a softly yielding fried egg. Is it a hangover kill or cure? I guess there’s only one way to find out.
The Sun & 13 Cantons
21 Great Pulteney Street
London
W1F 9NG
July 2025
