The Main Line’s splashiest Asian restaurant in years has spectacular potential — and unfortunate missteps

At 8:30 on a Wednesday night, the palm-fringed upstairs dining room of Maison Lotus had nearly cleared out. Despite being the hottest new reservation in Wayne, this multilevel French-Vietnamese destination had already synced to the early-to-bed rhythms of Main Line dining in its first two months. So it was no mystery, with closing time fast approaching, why the staff seemed rushed as they brought us a fleet of oversize plates all at once, no matter whether our crowded table could hold them.

Among the arrivals was a showpiece that commanded extra attention: a luxe bowl of phở — whose nest of noodles and herbs were shingled with raw American Wagyu — and a carafe of broth in tow, to be poured with a tableside flourish. I might have liked to reserve those sheer slices of beef on the side to pace the dipping and cooking, but it was already too late. The entire pitcher was summarily poured over top, the server was gone, and I rushed to taste the soup before those pads of pedigreed meat shriveled into chewy gray sheets. But I was startled to realize the dish was barely hot at all.

Phở should be served piping hot to maximize the vivid flavors that result from the clash of steaming broth against aromatic herbs, crunchy onions, ruby raw beef. In their moment of transformation, those fresh ingredients can summon slow-simmered star anise, cinnamon, and roasted ginger from the depths of that brew, coalescing into a hunger-inducing perfume.

Lukewarm broth? It works like weak tea, steeping those ingredients in a way that accents the bitter off-notes and muddles the aromatics, also coaxing a funk from the fatty meat that I didn’t love as the clear broth turned to a murky, dishwater brown. Maison Lotus’ co-owners, siblings Paul Somboonsong, 31, and Pearl Somboonsong-Murphy, 33, told me they deliberately dialed back the heat on that broth just a notch so as not to burn the lips of their most impatient diners. But it was a fundamental goof. Not only was this one of the more expensive bowls of phở I’ve eaten, at $25, it was also the worst.

I wish I could say it was the only disappointment among the traditional Vietnamese dishes that anchor the fusion menu at this otherwise glamorous new 250-seater spread across multiple floors. It’s a stylish makeover of the former Margaret Kuo’s that is likely the most anticipated new Asian restaurant on the Main Line since the opening of Nectar two decades ago.

A beguilingly pretty curved bar wrapped in jade-green bamboo-shaped tiles greets you as you pass through the carved wooden temple gates in the vestibule (left by the Kuos for good luck to the Somboonsongs). With tiled floors, lush tropical wallpaper, a colorful lotus pond mural, and well-coiffed guests lounging in cane-backed chairs while sipping lychee-infused French 75s and banana-flavored old-fashioneds, the posh resort vibes here are strong.

“People have been showing up in tropical clothes straight out of White Lotus — so, that’s the dress code, I guess!” says Somboonsong-Murphy, whose restaurant opened during the Thailand-based season of the HBO Max hit purely by coincidence.

With a planned basement speakeasy and a second-floor dining room lined with cloistered booths converted from Kuo’s former tatami rooms, Maison Lotus is a grand setting for a project of sprawling ambitions from this sibling duo. They’ve taken leadership roles in WIN Hospitality, the group started by their now-retired parents, Win and Sutida Somboonsong, who are originally from Thailand, that’s best known for Thai and Japanese concepts such as Teikoku (Newtown Square), Azie (Media), Thai Pepper (Ardmore), and Blue Elephant (Wayne and Pottstown). The siblings also recently launched a fast-casual sushi concept, Mama-San, which they described as “an Asian Shake Shack,” across from Radnor High School, their alma mater.

They chose Vietnam as the focus for Maison Lotus because of how well that country’s food showcases the bright herbs and marinated meats off the grill, a healthfully light style of eating Somboonsong-Murphy believes appeals to their Main Line audience. It would be beneficial, though, if there was a single Vietnamese person involved in the day-to-day kitchen to assure they were hitting the essential flavors, textures, and nuances of the cuisine beyond the consultant hired at the outset to jumpstart the menu.

With colorful drinks, evocative decor, and some signature fusion dishes (Wagyu cooked tableside on a hot rock, popular Chilean sea bass, fried rice with nubs of sweet pork sausage, stir-fried Thai pad see ew rice noodles) to broaden the comfort zone for their audience, Maison Lotus is a cinch for popular success. That’s likely true no matter whether the Wagyu-stuffed grilled perilla leaves are too mushy at the center (and also bizarrely served with a labneh yogurt flavored with yuzu koshu — Levantine-Viet fusion?). Or if the nước chấm for the spring rolls lacks any perceptible fish-sauce punch. Or if too many dishes are served with random mixed greens rather than the crunchy lettuces this food requires.

The rice vermicelli were too slippery when wrapped inside the summer roll, making the rice paper bundle too squishy, no matter how pretty this kitchen made it with lemongrass shrimp and herbs. Even the restaurant’s most popular entrée — the shaking beef — is only half-right. The nuggets of wok-fried filet mignon glazed in caramelized dark soy and fish sauce were not just overcooked. They were missing an essential aspect of the traditional dish: a palate-cleansing side dip of lime juice, salt, and pepper that cuts through the richness with sour and salt.

I do not nitpick here simply to point out that Maison Lotus is on its way to fulfilling its most likely destiny as an upscale suburban-dining cliché, strong on style but lacking in culinary depth, yet another concept in a popular pan-Asian restaurant portfolio. What’s at stake here is the opportunity to create something far more important — a genuine destination for contemporary Vietnamese cooking (no outdated “French” qualifier needed) — something the next-gen Somboonsongs have the wherewithal and youthful social awareness to achieve.

Prior to opening Maison Lotus, they scouted Kevin Tien’s elegant Moon Rabbit in Washington for inspiration. It’s a compelling example of such a destination — this spring I also had the opportunity to savor caramelized catfish with garlic rice, soulful duck noodle soup, andouille-stuffed summer rolls, and Viet-Cajun BBQ shrimp there.

But the talent to execute such a vision is already here if they choose to look. If ever there was a time to give Vietnamese cuisine a glamorous showpiece restaurant in the Philadelphia region, home to one of the largest Vietnamese communities on the East Coast, it is now. A new generation of Vietnamese restaurateurs — some recent arrivals, others the descendants of a community that took root in the 1970s — have been busy opening exciting venues, from a James Beard-nominated Viet coffee roaster/cafe (with a forthcoming brewery) to chicken pho shops that draw tourists from out of state. There are numerous examples of other accomplished chef-owners such as Thanh Nguyen at Gabriella’s Vietnam, Andrew Dinh Vo at Cafe Nhan, and Andrew Ma of Hên Vietnamese Eatery, and young talents like Jacob Trinh (currently chef de cuisine at Little Fish).

For now, your best savory bets at Maison Lotus are the Thai green curry with beef, with a side of sesame-encrusted pillow bread to soak up the well-spiced coconut-cream sauce. The nước chấm-glazed Chilean sea bass with glass noodles was also solid. But the miso salmon was severely overcooked, and the grilled eggplant entrée was essentially a $22 pile of mush drizzled in caramelized chile-lime sauce.

The duck entrée, a loose tribute to one of the Kuos’ specialties, involves an elaborate multiday brining and dry-aging process, but landed on my plate as a flabby-skinned breast fanned beside an artless smear of what tasted like undiluted hoisin (it’s apparently mixed with tamarind).

I’ll give the Somboonsongs credit for continuing to invest in their space, including $10,000 recently to install some much-needed soundproofing. They should also buy more pillows to cushion the stylish-but-uncomfortable reclining cane chairs in the dining room.

The one thing at Maison Lotus that needs no change at all are the exceptional desserts from WIN’s talented corporate pastry chef, Andelina Winarko. Much like Moon Rabbit’s Susan Bae, Winarko expertly melds pan-Asian flavors with European techniques for pastries that reach the full potential of fusion cooking.

Tiramisu is turned deep purple with Filipino ube blended into mascarpone cheese that’s layered between espresso-soaked ladyfingers, then drizzled in coconut cream. Green tea infuses a stunning opera cake layered with pistachio mousse, glazed with a vivid red raspberry mirror. A flower-shaped white chocolate shell with a whimsical strawberry Rice Krispies treat base is piped full of tropical lychee mousse. And then there is the mille crêpe cake, whose stack of paper-thin crêpes and pastry cream is so tall, I was mesmerized trying to count its 24-plus layers.

Just do not dither over dessert decisions or you may be reprimanded by your eager-to-scram server, as we were, when the clock struck 9:30 and he told us rather brusquely: “Our pastry department is about to close.”

The solution is clearly to eat dessert first at Maison Lotus and go from there. Will the Somboonsong siblings now do what’s necessary to make Maison Lotus a complete success from start to finish? I hope they do.

Breakfast pastries daily, 8-11 a.m. Lunch daily, 11 a.m.-3 p.m. Dinner Sunday through Thursday, 4:30-9 p.m.; Friday and Saturday, until 10 p.m.

Entrées, $19-$37

Wheelchair accessible on first floor only.

Not ideal for gluten-free dining. There is gluten-free soy sauce available, and efforts to avoid cross contamination are made. But only about 15% of the menu can be made gluten-free.