Plear sach koh is thinly sliced sirloin steak tossed with prahok or tuk trei, lime juice, palm sugar, green peppers, fresno, mushrooms, cucumbers, bean sprout, radish and cabbage and topped with fresh herbs and roasted peanuts. (Erin Hooley / Chicago Tribune)

This should be clear from the start: Khmai, the city’s second Cambodian restaurant, deserves acclaim for dishes as complex and mesmerizing as anything I’ve eaten all year.

I’m far from the only one in on the secret. On my first visit, I sat a table away from Erick Williams, the celebrated chef of Virtue, while on the other side sat Ethan Lim, who runs Hermosa, the city’s other dedicated Cambodian restaurant. Khmai, run by Mona Sang with guidance from her mother, Sarom Sieng, is often overflowing with customers; to make sure the kitchen doesn’t get overwhelmed, the host regularly turns people without reservations away.

But sometimes, to tell a story right, you have to start at the beginning. And for Sang and Sieng, their journey to Chicago began as their family fled a massacre in Cambodia in the late 1970s.

The family still bears the scars of leaving. Sarom Sieng and her husband, Chrrom, lost two of their sons, who died while the family fled across the border to Thailand. “She was also pregnant with me while walking barefoot through the jungle,” Mona Sang said. “She was bit by a snake. She could hear shooting all around her.”

When they made it to the refugee camp, Sieng gave birth without any medical care. “I was able to survive, even without a doctor,” Sang said. Chrrom, distraught he’d never see the rest of his extended family again, tried to sneak back to say goodbye. He was never seen again.

Chef Mona Sang hugs her mother, Sarom Sieng, at their restaurant, Khmai Cambodian Fine Dining, on Sept. 22, 2022, in the Rogers Park neighborhood of Chicago. (Erin Hooley / Chicago Tribune)

Thanks to an aunt who was already in Chicago; sponsors from World Relief, a global Christian humanitarian organization; and Reba Place Church in Evanston, the family was able to relocate to the United States. But they faced different struggles here. “We were a really, really poor family,” Sang said. “We didn’t speak English, and my mom had (post-traumatic stress disorder). I remember being made fun of. My brother and I had to share the same shirts. I have a lot of stories.”

Ethan Lim, who was also born in a refugee camp in Thailand when his parents had to leave Cambodia, understands the complexities. “A lot of times, there’s the trauma of leaving Cambodia, and there’s the trauma of coming here and feeling unfamiliar,” Lim said.

Through it all, cooking helped Sieng adjust. “She’d clean houses to make money, and then go buy food on Argyle Street to make egg rolls,” Sang said, referring to the stretch of Uptown replete with Southeast Asian grocery stores. Sieng also spent many hours cooking for her church, the Living Water Community Church.

Sang grew to love helping her mom in the kitchen, and eventually became interested in a culinary career. For six years, Sang worked at The Ivy Room, Lettuce Entertain You’s private event space.

Khmai chef Mona Sang prepares plear sach koh at Khmai Cambodian Fine Dining on Sept. 22, 2022. (Erin Hooley / Chicago Tribune)

But then another tragedy rocked the family. “My brother, Samuel, died before the pandemic, and it broke her heart,” Sang said of her mother. “The church community was there for her, but when the pandemic happened, she couldn’t go to church, which is such a huge part of her life. She fell into a depression where she’d just sit there and wasn’t responsive. We didn’t know what to do.” At the same time, with the private event business decimated by the pandemic, Sang was furloughed.

Sang credits her son for helping turn the situation around. “He wanted a Cambodian dish, so I went to Argyle Street and got all the stuff I knew how to make,” Sang said. “I could tell my mom smelled the cooking. After a few times of me cooking alone in the kitchen, one day she just got up and began chopping up vegetables, and we started cooking together. She even told me, ‘You’re cutting this wrong.’ I was like, ‘Hey, it’s something. I’ll take it!’ ”

After posting some photos of the Cambodian dishes she and her mom were cooking on social media, friends asked if they could buy some for themselves. That led to them starting Mona Bella Catering. An article from Mike Sula in the Chicago Reader helped draw even more attention. Then Steve Dolinsky covered it. Suddenly, the idea of opening a restaurant didn’t sound out of question. “(My mom) didn’t think this was possible in a million years to open a Cambodian restaurant,” Sang said.

Khmai’s seemingly instant success has proven Sang right, even if her dedication has meant working extremely long hours. “We make everything fresh, from cooking the soup to prepping the vegetables,” Sang said. “When you cut a vegetable ahead of time, it loses its color and texture.” Only the egg rolls are made ahead of time, but that’s only because the shop goes through 500 to 600 a week.

Mai’s famous egg rolls are stuffed with ground chicken, bean thread noodles and taro root, served with a side of rice, jrouk and tuk trei. (Erin Hooley / Chicago Tribune)

You’ll notice most tables ordering those crackly Mai’s egg rolls, which contain tender ground chicken, taro root and bean thread noodles. On the side, you’ll find a bright red sauce called tuk trei, a condiment that’s at once funky and savory, yet acidic and spicy.

But I haven’t found a miss on the starter section. One of the most traditional starters is the tuk kreoung, a catfish dip loaded with aromatic lemongrass and savory fish sauce, along with lime juice, palm sugar and prahok, a fermented fish paste used often in Cambodian cuisine. To counter that, you’re given crunchy fresh vegetables on the side. The sach koh ang are skewers laced with irresistibly juicy pieces of beef marinated with lemongrass and chiles.

Plear sach koh is thinly sliced sirloin steak tossed with prahok or tuk trei, lime juice, palm sugar, green peppers, fresno, mushrooms, cucumbers, bean sprout, radish and cabbage and topped with fresh herbs and roasted peanuts. (Erin Hooley / Chicago Tribune)

I’m not sure if I can visit without ordering the plear sach koh, an enormous salad loaded with bright green herbs, crunchy vegetables and thin slices of grilled beef. It’s coated in a sauce that’s a little sweet, pleasantly acidic and very spicy, an alluring combination that gets me every time. Sang said her mom is adamant about how the dish is prepared. “My mom won’t let me chop the herbs,” Sang said. “They have to be hand-picked. The vegetables are also cut when the order comes in.”

The heart of the menu can be found in the Traditional Khmai section. I instantly fell for the amok morn, a complex coconut curry featuring tender pieces of chicken wrapped in fragrant steamed banana leaf and topped with crispy lime leaves. “You should be able to taste waves of different flavors,” Sang said. “It starts with sweetness and saltiness, before moving to toasted crunchiness, and then spiciness.” I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Amok sach morn is made with chicken marinated in Khmer spices wrapped in banana leaves, topped with crispy lime leaves and fresh herbs. (Erin Hooley / Chicago Tribune)

Other dishes embody comfort. The nom bah chok, one of Cambodia’s most popular noodle dishes, features minced tilapia in a coconut fish stock, with thin and wispy rice noodles to dip in.

Considering Chicago only has two Cambodian restaurants, it’s understandable for customers to be unfamiliar with a dishes. Fortunately, the staff at Khmai is more than happy to walk you through the menu. Just know that because dishes aren’t prepared ahead of time, don’t visit if you’re looking for a quick dinner. While the shop is very busy, the staff is doing the right thing by limiting the number of guests, even though the dining room could seat far more. Sang is also looking out for her mom, making sure she doesn’t work too much. “I’m like, you’re 80,” Sang said. “You need to slow down.”

Considering how much work goes into preparing so many different dishes, part of me hopes Sang finds a way to slow down, too. Though there are no weak points, she could pare down the menu offerings by half to make the prep easier for herself. The menu also changes every two to three weeks, which adds to the complexity, though it certainly shows the depth of Sang’s knowledge.

But when I mentioned this to Sang on the phone, she didn’t seem fazed by the long hours. “This is important for me and for my community,” Sang said. “We’ve been lost so long. Cambodian people have gone through so much, but we can stand on our own. We can make it.”

Tribune rating: Between excellent and very good, 2½ stars

Open: Tuesday-Friday, 3:30 p.m. to 9 p.m.; Saturday, noon to 6 p.m.

Prices: Small bites and appetizers, $7-$14; entrees, $14-$19; desserts, $5-$7

Accessibility: Wheelchair accessible, with bathrooms on the first floor

Ratings key: Four stars, outstanding; three stars, excellent; two stars, very good; one star, good; no stars, unsatisfactory. Meals are paid for by the Tribune.