As part of the ongoing, industry-wide drive to appeal to the widest possible demographic base, today's review is targeted at those of you who hope one day to be a guest on Call My Bluff. I don't think it's actually on telly at the moment, but when it is next revived, "kiasu" will probably be one of the thrice-defined words.
So then, for all you Frank Muir and Patrick Campbell wannabes out there, kiasu is a noun and adjective from the Chinese Hokkien dialect, meaning "extreme fear of losing, or of being second best". It's a notion the neurotically ambitious Singaporean and Malaysian professional middle classes regard as so self-defining that their sitcom character Mr Kiasu is a similar emblem of endearingly gruesome national character as Mr Brent is to us.
Having made its way to the Singapore-English hybrid tongue called Singlish, kiasu completed its trek across the etymological world in March when the Oxford English Dictionary included it on its quarterly list of new words, thereby qualifying it for Call My Bluff.
But enough of the linguistics and on to today's restaurant, which by way of an exquisite red herring worthy of Gogol happens to be called Kiasu. And which, by way of an enchanting irony worthy of a writer begging for the sack, need have no fear of being second best itself.
In strict truth, the room itself is no beauty, being narrow, utilitarian and harshly lit, with bright mauve walls and the twee, touristy presence by the front door of a stack of bamboo canes. But it's clean and bright and bustly, and you can hardly complain about a cheap and cheerful decor when the food is cheap and brilliant.
Everything we ordered from a menu that gathers authentic dishes from the Straits of Malacca, which it informs us is "a giant melting pot of culture, race and religion", was excellent. However, not anticipating the generosity of the servings, we ordered grotesquely. Although history teaches us to fear the twice named (Humbert Humbert, the Lolita paedophile; Sirhan Sirhan, the Bobby Kennedy assassin; Neville Neville, the father of Everton and England defender Philip), the rule can be safely reversed here - gado gado was a vast portion of wonderfully fresh vegetables, boiled egg and rice cake in a warm and creamy peanut sauce, while otak-otak proved to be no fewer than six delicious fishcakes wrapped in banana leaf and served upright to resemble piscine cupcakes. Chicken satay was juicy and immaculate, and also came in a half-dozen; spring rolls were crisp and greaseless; and acar brought together crunchy carrots, beans and peppers in a gently chillified pickling vinegar.
On the wall beside our table was a mural listing various things to be afraid of, and while some suggested phobias were sensible enough (turmoil, for instance, and mother), we'd already eaten so much that "fear of being thin" had come to seem needlessly sardonic. Even so, my sister and I plugged gamely on with the main courses, and splendid they were, too. Spare ribs were great, fat, fleshy brutes baked in a delectable sweet-and-sour sauce, and beef rendang saw thick chunks of surprisingly tender beef (well, you don't expect a decent cut at £6.80) drenched in a gravy that gratifyingly tingled the tongue despite the leavening presence of coconut milk. Egg-fried rice with prawns and pork was perfect, but my pick from this crowded field was ko lo mee (mee being Malay for noodles, which dominate the menu; it's mee, mee, mee with these people, all the time): braised egg noodles, infused with a glorious, sesame oil and rice wine hot-and-sour twang, served with barbecued pork and floating on a delicate broth.
The service was warm and smiley, and the bill absurdly small for the quality of food and the size of the servings. (Asked if we wanted to take anything home, it was no surprise to hear my sister say, "How about the chef?"). This place is an absolute corker in any language, and cannot be recommended too warmly even to those with a deep-rooted terror of south-east Asian modernist cafes. Be unafraid, in fact. Be very unafraid.
Rating 9/10
Telephone 020-7727 8810
Address 48 Queensway, London W2.
Open All week, noon-11pm.
Price Colossal meal for two with drinks, £40.
