Vientiane Nazim: An Evening Under the Air Conditioner Emptying a Pitcher of Mango Lassi

My fourth day in Vientiane, Laos. After walking along the Mekong in the afternoon with my shirt clinging completely to my back, I decided I absolutely had to sit indoors. I went in…

Вьентьян · Назим

My fourth day in Vientiane, Laos. After walking along the Mekong in the afternoon with my shirt clinging completely to my back, I decided I absolutely had to sit indoors. I went into the Indian restaurant Nazim. Every Southeast Asian city has at least one Indian restaurant, but my first impression of this Vientiane location was the blast of cool air that hit as soon as I walked in. A wall-mounted air conditioner was running by the window, and after sitting down for about five minutes, goosebumps formed on my arms. A restaurant this cool is rare in Laos.

Cool First—The Interior and Seating

The interior is typical South Asian restaurant style—neither flashy nor worn—with black damask patterned chairs and checkered tablecloths. Through the full-glass windows, you can see the street outside clearly, and the sound of motorcycles passing is muffled by a single pane of glass. The customers were a mix of Indian and Middle Eastern diners and Western backpackers, and at the next table, English and Hindi were constantly being exchanged. The atmosphere is comfortable even if you're dining alone.

You can drink Beerlao anywhere in Laos, but it's definitely different when paired with spicy curry. It's not very carbonated and tastes somewhat bland, which makes it perfect for rinsing away the greasiness that lingers after the spices. Here it came in a bottle and they gave me a small glass. No ice.

Mango Lassi Comes in a Pitcher, Not a Cup

If I had to order just one thing from this place, it's the mango lassi. But it wasn't what I expected. It came in a glass pitcher. A real pitcher with a handle, a pink straw sticking out of it, filled to the brim with thick, yellow yogurt. You can see mango pulp chunks floating below the surface through the glass.

One sip through the straw and it becomes almost thick. The sweetness hits hard, but the yogurt's tanginess keeps it from getting cloying. Nothing beats this in the Laos midday heat. The problem is the quantity—if you drink it all yourself, you'll be too full. If you want to actually enjoy the curry, I'd recommend ordering it after the food arrives or sharing it. I got the order wrong and had the lassi half-empty by the time the rice came, and I ended up leaving the biryani.

Оформить Цифровая иммиграционная форма (LDIF)

Banana Roti—A Dessert That Outshines the Main

The banana roti comes on a black plate lined with paper, cut into squares. The surface is fried until brown with flecks of color, and condensed milk drips down, making it gleam. Pick up a piece and the edges crumble apart, but inside it's soft and moist, a mix of egg-yolk color and mashed banana. Rarely does the phrase "crispy outside, moist inside" apply so literally.

You have to eat it hot. Once it cools, the condensed milk hardens and becomes soggy, and half the crispiness disappears. You're supposed to eat it right away even if it burns your hands. Since the condensed milk sticks to your fingers, it helps to have wet wipes ready.

Curry, Tandoori, Biryani—The Classics

For mains, the four of us ordered several dishes to share from the center of the table. Red mutton curry with whole tomatoes, a bowl of tandoori-scented red chicken, and a green spinach palak. Beside them came orange shrimp biryani topped with three cucumber slices and a lime wedge. The naan came in a separate basket, and you could tell it came straight from the tandoor with its slightly deflated puffed top.

The tomato curry is thinner rather than thick, and the meat is so tender it falls apart with just a spoon, no chopsticks needed. The heat is medium by Korean standards. It's not the sharp bite of bird's eye chili, but rather spices that build slowly—the first few spoonfuls are mild, but by the time you see the bottom of the bowl, sweat beads on your forehead. The palak isn't salty and is soft, so eating it between mouthfuls of the spicy curry gives your palate a break. The biryani isn't strongly aromatic, so even those in our group unfamiliar with spices ate well.

Location and How to Get There

This area isn't particularly walkable from downtown Vientiane, so if you're coming from the city center, it's better to take a tuk-tuk or use a ride-hailing app. If you walk in the daytime, there's almost no shade, and you'll be exhausted by the time you arrive. The map coordinates below are the exact spot where I took the photos.

I didn't keep the receipt so I can't give exact prices. But by Laos standards, it's definitely more expensive than a local noodle shop, though sharing among several people keeps the cost manageable. I recommend checking the menu prices and hours in person before visiting. Many restaurants in Vientiane close between lunch and dinner.

What I'll Do Differently Next Time

• Order the mango lassi after the food arrives. Since it comes in a pitcher, drinking it first will make you too full.
• Eat the banana roti right away even if it burns your hands.
• Order curry with a pair of one red and one green palak. You need a break between the spice hits.
• Deliberately go during the hot part of the day. The air conditioner is this restaurant's secret menu.

As soon as I pushed open the glass door to leave, the outside heat clung to my face. Just sitting in the cool air for about an hour and a half, eating my fill, made the entire afternoon come alive.