Good Enuff to Eat

The name of this restaurant could be read two ways: as a boastful statement of intent from the chefs or a lowering of expectations before you walk through the door: it’s edible but don’t expect anything else. The reality is probably somewhere in between—some good, some bad and some just plain odd dishes from an extensive menu that simply over reaches by trying to cater to everybody. However, the food, and the slightly high prices, are not the biggest problem with Good Enuff to Eat. That would be the lack of atmosphere. The small space in the basement of 8 on Thong Lor was something of a hit when it opened last year. Unfortunately, if our most recent visit on a Thursday night is anything to go by, it seems the crowds have moved on, to other newer, brighter venues in this fast changing neighborhood. The outdoor space has potential, with its splashes of vegetation and loungey sofas but is simply too hot, too dark and too full of mosquitos to bear. The inside is more like a canteen with its bright white walls and oversized adverts for a certain credit card. Service is good, but you would expect that when the staff outnumber the diners two to one. As for the food—well, it certainly reminds us of Greyhound, offering a bit of Asian, Italian, British and most things in between. To be fair, some dishes hit the spot. The nachos are delicious with a rich salsa sauce and suitably crunchy corn chips. The spaghetti and meatballs with cheese is also full of flavor, even if the actual meat is a little rubbery. Other dishes are just odd, such as the calamari, which itself is tasty but comes served with equal parts of deep-fried red cabbage, and a rather bland sauce. The tuna wasabi, though, is simply unpalatable with the pleasant chunks of tuna ruined by an overly-vinegary dressing. Desserts continue the trend with a medley called Good Enuff Surprise, which does thimble-sized servings of tiramisu, a blueberry crumble, a chocolate mousse and, we think, a panna cotta, and runs the gamut from passable to bizarre. This might all be forgiven if the venue had the bustling, trendy atmosphere of somewhere like the neighboring Crepes and Co., but as it doesn’t, we end up coming away feeling slightly sad for the wait staff and slightly depressed over what we’ve just paid to eat here.