This poky new Islington spot – part of a small chain of pan-Asian restaurants – takes its name from a traditional Indonesian folk story about a little girl and a giant. The version I know (girl gets eaten, giant gets dead) is a few shades darker than the cheery tale scribed on a chalkboard here.
Foodwise, there was no scrimping on flavour but many items lacked finesse, nuances often lost in a barrage of sweetness. The meat on the barbecue ribs was nice and tender but dominated by a sugary sauce. A duck and watermelon salad was similarly overwhelmed by too much hoisin. Szechuan beef and a rendang curry were slightly more sophisticated, but by this point my palate was a bit bamboozled.
The room was busy on a Friday lunchtime, though, with many diners clearly swayed by decent prices and the charmingly ramshackle interior. They ate happily too, which makes me think Tootoomoo will do well. But my advice? Ease off on the sugar – after all, it’s the ‘in’ thing these days. Well, that and going to hell in handcart.