Eclectic electric at Compilasian

This article was first published in October 2000

Our super-suave waiter was giving nothing away. 'Ooh, there's some fresh melon, a few crushed raspberries - and a little bit of know-how.' So I can't tell you exactly what was in my glass, but if you ever find yourself in the cosy Re:mix Bar, faced with the tantalising list of cocktails but sadly unable to drink alcohol, just ask for the delicious virgin mix I had...

The Re:mix is under Compilasian, a new South-East Asian restaurant that, by recent reports, is becoming something of a foodie bolthole. The small purple and blue bar is trendy but not intimidatingly so - in fact, there's an enveloping warmth about the place.

My friend Emma - never one to opt for the non-alcoholic - chose a daring Russian Spring Punch, anticipating a wonderful blend of fruit and vodka and champagne, but got something resembling a garish slush puppy, red and tasteless and chock-full of crushed ice. Not a good start, and a whacking £6.50. The bar also offers a short but impressive list of Asian 'tapas' for around £3 but we were here for the big one, and soon headed upstairs.

I'll admit I would approach any restaurant called Compilasian with serious misgivings, partly because it sounds like a bad 1980s cover album. More, though, because the collision of words clearly threatens the reap-pearance of 'fusion cooking', now mercifully resigned to the last millennium. But, thankfully, Compilasian's wonderful menu is nothing of the sort. Many Asian countries are represented, but, with the exception of one platter of mixed starters, never on the same plate.

Instead, there are perhaps a dozen elegant dishes from Thailand and Malaysia, Southern India, Indonesia and Sri Lanka. Singapore is represented with kurma kambing, a slow-cooked, spicy lamb, and even Japan gets a look-in, with a vegetarian udon noodle stir-fry. All have generic similarities - there's plenty of tamarind, cashews and coconut milk swirling around - so nothing jars or seems out of place.

We chose the mixed platter to start with, although the plantain and polenta fritters sounded wonderful, as did a very rarely found Cambodian dish called leaf lilies, a spicy crab and chicken mix rolled in betel leaves (I'd love to know how the restaurant managed to source betel leaves in the heart of Balham).

The platter consisted of an assortment of lovingly made and beautifully presented morsels: Hong Kong sui mai dumplings, a divinely tender chicken satay made with a mild cashew sauce instead of the usual coarse peanut, Keralan mutton rolls, fish cutlets and chargrilled squid. All were delicious.

We followed this with a Malaysian laksa called kari mee - a delicate curry broth filled with rice noodles, chicken, prawns and (the only wrong note) soggy slabs of tofu - and udang bakar - grilled prawns marinated in coconut and tamarind and served with fried rice and papads. The prawns were some of the most delicious we'd ever tasted, but four made a stingy portion, however kingly they may have been.

We finished off with two classic desserts that had clearly - and cleverly - been adapted to Western tastes by a radical reduction of sweetness and colouring. I had vattalapum, a light coconut custard flavoured, rather than drowned, with palm sugar. Emma opted for battered bananas filled with pistachio and the wonderful Hill Station cinnamon ice cream.

A coffee and a glass of Tuscan dessert wine later, we left, happy, sated, majestically fed and a rather majestic £90 lighter. I blame those cocktails.

Compilasian
90 Bedford Hill, SW12