Time Out Melbourne never writes starred reviews from hosted experiences – Time Out covers restaurant and bar bills for reviews so that readers can trust our critique.
We all know Singapore and Malaysia's obsession with Hainanese rice, but did you know that chicken rice is also a favourite comfort food in Thailand? Khao man gai (roughly translating to 'fatty rice') is the specialty of this snug Hardware Lane joint of the same name, with queues of people lining up during both the lunch and dinner rushes to get their fix.
It’s created through the boiling of a whole chicken until its fats are rendered into the water to created a flavour-packed broth, further enhanced with a generous infusion of fresh garlic and ginger. This elixir of life is then used to cook the rice, of course.
One of the first things you’ll see when you walk into Khao Man Gai is “simple but tasty” written in giant capital letters. Daggy as it might be, it’s not a dishonest summation of the place. The laminated two-pager menu only contains a humble selection of Thai comfort classics and drinks, but everything – and we mean everything – hits the mark. I’ve never seen this place not busy.
I was doing a bit of foodie nerd research into crab rangoons the other day, only to discover that Khao Man Gai is one of the only restaurants in Melbourne to serve up these strange little American-Chinese parcels. If you’ve never tried them before, they kind of sound horrifying (fried wontons filled with cream cheese and imitation crab meat), but as per usual, my curiosity took the wheel. I decide to head to Khao Man Gai for a sample – and while I’m at it, indulge in a long overdue taste of that exquisite chicken rice I’ve loved since my first visit in 2023. Jumping headlong into the pleasures of a blazing hot bowl of tom yum soup doesn’t sound too bad either, so I drag my partner along to join in the investigative food fest.
On a balmy spring night, Hardware Lane is packed with wine drinkers and diners. Seating is tight at Khao Man Gai, with tables spaced quite closely to one another, but there’s plenty more room out on the terrace if you don’t mind catching a bit of the laneway action.
Service is fairly easy-going here (you order by QR code), but don’t mistake that for impersonal. There’s always a friendly feel to the operation, with water poured and plates cleared quickly.
I’m happily swilling Thailand’s OG lager Singha when our crab rangoons arrive, a plate of six toasty dumplings. Biting into one’s crisp wonton skin, I discover the mixture inside to be not too dissimilar from Philadelphia’s pour-over sweet chilli cream cheese dip. Anyone else remember that stuff? I went ham on it with Jatz crackers as a kid. Safe to say, these starters make for very fun beer snacks, though I can’t really taste a ‘crab’ flavour as such.
There are about nine versions of the hero dish, so we try a half-and-half: poached and fried chicken. The meat comes atop a sensible portion of rice with a clear chicken broth and two dipping sauces as sides.
It’s hard to decide which I like better: the succulent morsels of poached chicken thigh or the crisp, tender fried chicken, which is so wholesome in its low-salt homestyle seasoning it actually tastes healthy. But it dawns on me: it’s actually the fragrant, chicken-y jasmine rice that’s the standout – which is the way it’s supposed to be with this dish. Hats off to Khao Man Gai.
The authentically clean street-style broth is best poured over the rice, but sipping it as a soup is equally as rewarding. Out of the condiments, the fermented soybean sauce is much more interesting than the stock standard sweet chilli.
After spotting a bartender vigorously shaking a cocktail in the tiny kitchen, we suss out a drink called Miss Thailand (Absolute vodka, peach schnapps, mango puree, lime, mint). It’s boozy and tropical-tasting enough to make you feel like you’re backpacking around Southeast Asia. This town’s home to some of the world’s best cocktail bars, but I’ve always unashamedly loved these kinds of fruity punch-style drinks that are usually less revered. It’s ice-cold fun in a glass and the perfect accompaniment to our tom yum soup.
Speaking of which, we can personally take a spicier broth (and perhaps they could add a modifier option) but I’m not complaining – this rendition’s level of nip is just enough to complement the holy Thai sour-salty-sweet trifecta. It’s the perfect gateway tom yum, swimming with plump fresh prawns, baby corns, button mushroom and sweet curls of red onion. I’d come back for this meal alone.
Is there anything not to love about Khao Man Gai? We don’t think so, not even those mysterious little crab rangoons.