Describing their practice, which finds its roots in food, theater, fine art, and digital design, as "distinctive, experiential, and cinematic", they explain Lai Rai was born as "an emotionally and culturally resonant, living artwork", and was shaped by their backgrounds.

Known for their whimsical, tongue-in-cheek approach to anything from textile artworks and stage clothes to wavy tufted rugs, house of baby's physical environments are where all of their interests collide. It isn't just me feeling disoriented at Lai Rai: "we create immersive settings that feel like stepping into a memory, or a story you can't quite place," Joseph and Tomio tell me.

Lai Rai — was it born of a Wes Anderson movie or a computer game? From its ordered red and white frontage it wouldn’t surprise if either Owen Wilson or one of the GTA crooks emerged. Inside is more of the same. It is mostly butter yellow though the red of 1950s diners and tinned sardines is everywhere: the pin-thin neon strip lights; the metal stools; the chopsticks; even the grout between the tiles. It looks faintly make-believe, but has the feeling of being the place to be.

Lai Rai is the brainchild of spatial design studio house of baby, whose playfully nostalgic vision can be felt throughout its retro-futuristic interiors. Against a cocooning palette of buttery walls and tiles, the space's electric red and chrome accents feel almost disorienting, as if inviting diners to indulge in a dimension of its own. Part French bistro, part Space Age-core, looks aside, Lai Rai is, first and foremost, a dynamic Vietnamese canteen for people to meet, share stories, and drinks.

Lai Rai’s discreet shopfront is immediately rendered indiscreet thanks to a red-and-white striped awning nabbed from a passing funfair. Inside, Lai Rai continues with its endearing brand of intensity. Lit by red neon and with a clinical stainless steel counter, the rest of the small space is a jumble of high and low tables (there’s also an airier, less full-on upstairs level); suggesting the exact point where Saigon canteen culture meets the contents of Charli xcx’s Dropbox.

Inside, the restaurant is irresistibly photogenic, with yellow walls and postbox-red accents, all cinematically lit up by evening sun pouring in through the café-curtained windows

one of the best-looking retro dining rooms south of the river