Andrew Duong speaks the cold, hard truth about the sudden closure of Miss Van’s.
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“It’s all squeeze, no juice.”
So says one of our favourite Canberra chefs, Andrew Duong, as he grapples with the enormous emotion of closing the doors to his celebrated restaurant Miss Van’s.
The son of Vietnamese-Lao refugee migrants, Andrew has devoted his entire career to bringing innovative food, infused with the flavours of his heritage and inspired by his beloved grandmother, to Canberra diners.
But the hospitality industry is under extraordinary pressures and Andrew says there will be more like him, forced to question the viability of the very thing they love to do, day in and day out.
Andrew’s snap announcement last night that Miss Van’s was closing immediately has sent shock waves into the community. This restaurant will, absolutely, be missed.
But Andrew, who has always been honest and open about the challenges of working in the business, wants the city to know exactly why he has had to make this move. And then he has asked for some space to be with his partner and work through the shock and distress.
Miss Van’s has closed its doors. Image by Rohan Thomson of Pew Pew Studio.
In the past 24 hours or so, Andrew has spoken with his accountant and made the unbelievably difficult decision to close the restaurant. It’s no longer viable to keep the doors open.
Miss Van’s is a beautiful space, located in the heart of the city, and a long way from the shipping container Andrew first started serving street food from in 2015. It turned three in October, and is a top-rated restaurant, serving extraordinary food, getting great reviews (just check out his glowing Google reviews) and earning a loyal clientele.
But it’s simply not enough. Andrew says the rise in costs at his end (gas, electricity, utilities, and food), and the cost-of-living pinch on the city, has resulted in next-to-zero profit margins. An additional layer of pressure is the staff shortage, with restaurants competing for good staff and having to pay relatively high wages to keep them.
“How do I even cover my costs? Ten years ago, wages accounted for 25 per cent of takings, and then 25 per cent went to food cost and 25 per cent on utilities. This meant you could take 15-20 cents out of every dollar as your margin. Now wages are hovering around 35-40 per cent.”
He has also watched, with mounting dismay, the arrival in Canberra of big interstate names (such as Matt Moran and Chris Lucas) who have deep pockets.
“It’s difficult to compete with these famous celebrity chefs from Sydney and Melbourne opening up their new venues in Canberra, when we just don’t have the deep pockets to compete in hiring skilled workers in an already short skilled-worker market. The Canberra dining market can be fickle at times, they love the new shiny things, but tend to turn their backs on them pretty quickly. Botswana Butchery is an example of this, along with all the venues that occupied the Compa space prior to them opening up.
“We are all struggling. Some businesses may say they are busy but they are all facing the same issues, people are just not prepared to spend money on three courses and a bottle of wine. It’s not that they don’t miss it or they don’t want to, it’s simply that it is too expensive.”
Andrew had already come to the decision that he needed to change his business model and planned, in March of next year, to strip things back to his original shipping container iteration—street food, served fast and cheap.
“I did make this decision not because what I have built here is a failure but because I understand this is what people actually need at this time.”
But even that is now off the cards.
Miss Van’s food will be sorely missed. Photo: Dom Northcott.
Today he is in his restaurant, clearing, cleaning, and donating to local charities what food can be reused instead of being thrown out. His eyes are swollen from the tears shed in the past 24 hours, and he’s stepped away from social media because the outpouring of love and sentiment from the public is too much for him to bare at the moment.
And this is hard enough as it is.
Andrew says he doesn’t feel that the ACT Government truly understands the impost on small businesses, and apart from reducing some liquor licensing fees and other small imposts, “has done nothing to support the industry that makes any difference at a time when we so desperately need a break”.
And so he has closed his doors effective immediately and written to his future bookings to tell them that they will not be able to have even one last serving of his cauliflower curry, umami noodles, or larb – not to mention the devasted devotees of his Banh Mis which are the city’s finest.
He is tearful and regretful and wishes it wasn’t this way. But he wants to be honest with the city about how his dream of Miss Van’s has ended prematurely.
Andrew is not answering media calls and will be switching off his phone and taking time to go fishing and to be with his wife and family.
He did smile briefly to confirm that this morning he has already had three job offers.
“I am grateful for many things and many good people in my life. Right now my mental health is pretty poor and I just need time to decompress and come to grips with it all.”
Goodbyes are always hard.
Feature image: 5 Foot Photography
