Seng Kok “Sam” Ung, founder of the beloved Phnom Penh Noodle House, the first Cambodian restaurant in Washington state, passed away on March 5 at the age of 70 after collapsing and suffering a sudden heart attack.
Ung was well-known in the Chinatown International District community for his generous contributions of food dishes to support local non-profits and his master fruit carving skills. Every July, he looked forward to showcasing his spectacular fruit carving platters at the Chinatown-International District Summer Festival.
A low-key, quiet man, he shared his personal story in his 2011 memoir, I Survived the Killing Fields, a deeply moving account of his life during the “hellish nightmare of the Khmer Rouge” and his resettlement in the U.S. where he transformed himself into “the quintessential American success story.” Ung lost both his mother and father and other family members during the Khmer Rouge regime.
In the book, he described his parents’ restaurant in Battambang where he began working as a cook at age 16. The popular restaurant served soup noodles, congee and desserts. This provided him his first immersion in the culinary world.
Ung retired in 2013, returning to Cambodia, leaving the business in the care of his family. He lived in a small town in northeast Cambodia, where he generously offered up his time, teaching English classes to young children. Diane explained that his Buddhist faith guided him, even in retirement. “He is the epitome of filial piety, of following traditional teachings from his parents and compassionate action,” she said.
Sam returned to the U.S. in March 2024, relocating to Independence, Missouri, to be near his aunt and several cousins. At the time of his death, he had been scheduled for knee replacement surgery. He had been hobbled for many years, suffering severe pain.
A cremation and funeral ceremony is scheduled in Independence for Monday, March 10. Ung’s family is organizing a celebration of life in Seattle soon.
Ung opened Phnom Penh Noodle House in a tiny upstairs space on Maynard Avenue South on July 17, 1987.
Today, it is run by his three daughters—Dawn, Diane and Darlene—at 913 South Jackson Street, several blocks from the original location.
Darlene recalled, “At the old location, everything came in a bowl. There were seven items.” Dawn noted that her father was very proud of the special family recipe for soup stock.
In 1997, Ung was forced to relocate the business to a different building on South King Street, after the first site collapsed in a snowstorm. At this location, the menu expanded to include rice dishes and appetizers. The restaurant closed in 2018 when Dawn was faced with extraordinary medical expenses after her son was injured in an auto accident.
The restaurant reopened in a new brightly-lit storefront in the Thai Binh Apartments building in 2020. The menu now offers 33 choices, including the classic noodle dishes.
The Phnom Penh Noodle House remains a favorite lunch meeting spot for Chinatown-ID activists and leaders. It serves as a glowing counterweight to a troubled corner of the neighborhood still beset by drugs, crime and homelessness.
Even though the three Ung sisters—Dawn, Darlene and Diane—agree that their father was a man of few words, they also point out that he was adept at languages. He spoke seven: Thai, Cambodian, Vietnamese, three dialects of Chinese and English.
What did the Phnom Penh Restaurant mean to Sam Ung?
Dawn puts it this way: “It was about proving himself, about showing other people who doubted that an immigrant, a refugee could do this,” Dawn said. “He had passion, talent and drive. He proved the doubters wrong. No Cambodian had started a restaurant before.”
Darlene said her father taught her and her sisters the value of hard work. “He told us, ‘If you can see it with your eyes, you can do it. If you can feel it in your heart, then you can know it.’”
Dawn said her father believed that common sense and action were the keys to success. He was a tireless worker. “His pet peeve was procrastination,” she said. In the early years of the restaurant, her father was still working at the Rainier Club from 6 a.m. to 2 p.m. before heading over to Phnom Penh Noodle House. “His heart was driving him,” Dawn said. “He could go with no sleep, no food.”
Why did the Ung sisters continue the business after her father retired and after economic difficulties in 2018 forced the restaurant’s closure?
Darlene said simply, “We love it. When we didn’t do it for two years, we knew something was missing. We came back. We’re here.”
