Junda Khoo Builds a Three Level Malaysian Playground with Ho Liao on Top
Melbourne has officially adopted a new obsession, and it comes stacked across three levels of Malaysian flavour, fire and fun. Chef Junda Khoo, the force behind Sydney’s Ho Jiak group, has taken over an entire building off Rainbow Alley and turned it into a self-contained world: Da Bao on the ground floor, Ho Jiak through the middle, and Ho Liao claiming the top like the extroverted sibling who refuses to sit quietly.
This multi-storey project has been brewing in Junda’s imagination for quite some time. Pandemic delays, shifting borders, and Melbourne’s famously dramatic timelines didn’t stop it from coming to life. What stands now is a bold expression of his vision. Each level feels related without repeating itself, which is exactly why the model works. They appeal to different moods, budgets and personalities while still speaking the same language.
Ho Liao, perched at the very top, is the most outgoing of the three. It channels the atmosphere of a bustling Southeast Asian hawker centre mixed with the cheeky energy of a beer hall. Large tables, loud chatter, plates moving at speed, staff who actually look like they’re having fun. The room is open, warm and wonderfully chaotic. Melbourne diners don’t just tolerate this type of energy, they lean into it.
Part of the buzz comes from the flavour. Part of it comes from the value. The specials rotate constantly, anchored by staples that feel almost rebellious given today’s economy. Fifteen dollar dishes. Twenty dollar lunch options. And a twenty-five dollar all you can eat deal that has people comparing notes across group chats. The food doesn’t sacrifice on quality either. Each plate lands with purpose and a hit of nostalgia if you grew up anywhere near Malaysia.
Many of the recipes trace back to Junda’s Amah, who shaped the way he cooks and the way he expresses generosity through food. They’ve been rebuilt with technique and confidence. Five-Spice Loh Bak with proper crunch. Char Koay Teow with that smoky attitude no wok-free kitchen can fake. The Malaysian Roast Duck with pancakes that has already built repeat customers. And the Assam Nyonya Barramundi that wakes up even the most distracted table.
Junda works alongside Head Chef Ralph So, whose background at Chin Chin Sydney and Supernormal brings a disciplined backbone to the organised chaos. Ralph handles the rhythm of the kitchen while Junda steers the tone, creating a menu that feels instantly familiar without ever losing its spark.
The room itself mirrors that energy. Exposed brick, warm lighting and long communal tables keep things moving. It’s the sort of place where the best nights start with the intention of keeping things casual and end with everyone rolling dice at the table because a lucky six means your meal’s free. It’s silly, it’s fun, and it makes perfect sense in this setting. The All You Can Eat sessions feed the hunger for Melbourne’s favourite hobby: finding good value without giving up quality.
The drinks list follows the same logic. Southeast Asian beers sit alongside Victorian favourites, wines swing from local to French, and cocktails lean into Malaysian ingredients. The Mandarin Oriental is bright and sharp, while the Chrysanthemum Negroni brings a floral whisper before the bitterness kicks in.
What’s most striking is how naturally Ho Liao fits into Melbourne’s dining scene. It taps into the things people here care about right now: generosity, energy, shared experience and food that actually tastes of something. No fuss, no pretence, just a room full of people having a good time.
Ho Liao is at Level 2, 2 Rainbow Alley. Look for the crowd. Follow the noise. Order the char kway teow.
Melbourne has officially adopted a new obsession, and it comes stacked across three levels of Malaysian flavour, fire and fun. Chef Junda Khoo, the force behind Sydney’s Ho Jiak group, has taken over an entire building off Rainbow Alley and turned it into a self-contained world: Da Bao on the ground floor, Ho Jiak through the middle, and Ho Liao claiming the top like the extroverted sibling who refuses to sit quietly.