In the soft morning light, three teenagers once stood before the Temple of Literature, whispering hopes for exam success into clasped hands. A decade later, that same trio — Triết Nguyễn, Tùng Nguyễn and Dương Nguyễn — have channeled their youthful aspirations into MÀU, a gastro wine bar directly opposite their old place of pilgrimage.

MÀU, meaning “color,” is more than a name; it's a manifesto. The space glows with translucent orange panels, and the walls are adorned with vibrant art, setting the stage for a dining experience that is both familiar and refreshingly novel. Dương, the brain behind MÀU’s marketing, has applied her knowledge and skill picked up from years studying and working in Canada to the website and branding of this new project much closer to home.

MÀU is just a stone's throw from the Temple of Literature. Photos courtesy of MÀU.

Finding it, though, isn’t entirely straightforward. The address won’t help much, and a quick Google Maps search is just as likely to send you to a completely different restaurant. (The team has apparently been hacked — twice.) In a way, it’s kind of fitting. But perseverance is rewarded with a seat at a bar where the city's past and future coalesce over plates of inventive cuisine.

We are sat at the bar, and this is what we discover. Quán Bánh Cuốn Nóng Gia Truyền 50 Đội Cấn is the best place to get bánh cuốn. Phở Khôi Hói is Triết’s favorite spot for noodle soup, and Phạm is the name of his friend’s cocktail bar, which apparently is pretty much a converted front room. We don’t make it to the latter sadly as it’s closed on the day we’re in town, but the other two spots prove excellent recommendations. These new restaurateurs sure know their stuff and are very well-connected to the food that they’re taking their inspiration from. And the service, led by Tùng, shows the warm and deft touch of a seasoned professional, someone able to transform a dining room into a second home for those on their first visit or their fiftieth.

Having grown up in Hanoi, the team behind MÀU is appreciative of the capital's diverse street food wealth. Photo courtesy of MÀU.

And just to clear up any confusion: this isn’t Mau restaurant in the Old Quarter. That one serves a solid lineup of northern Vietnamese staples: bún chả, bánh xèo, gỏi cuốn. At MÀU, you’ll find echoes of that tradition, but the execution is something else entirely.

Vietnamese fare with little touches of unexpected novelty

Serving a plate of pickles at the start of a meal is all the rage in the UK right now, but this is the first time I’ve seen it in Vietnam. Vietnamese cuisine has long known how to balance crunch and tang. A quick glance inside any bánh mì is proof enough. But here, pickling gets the spotlight, and a few unexpected guests. Watermelon rind, carrot, baby cucumber, garlic stem and banana — yes, banana — just go to show that you can pickle almost anything, swoop it through a pile of lightly curried mayonnaise and it will be delicious.

Photos courtesy of MÀU.

There’s less of a Vietnamese touch in the pillowy, crisp slices of sourdough focaccia, but it’s no great loss as the bread — whether it’s Vietnamese, Italian, French or Egyptian — is excellent. The bacon butter, however, is lacking in salinity and tastes almost completely devoid of pig. But the team welcomes the feedback; it’s only the third week and the menu is still in its nascent stages.

Pickle platter. Photo by Meg Houghton-Gilmour.

Focaccia with bacon butter. Photo by Meg Houghton-Gilmour.

The gut-wrenching admission that they have run out of crab bao with sea urchin is softened only by several more sips of a very smooth glass of muscadet from one of my favourite wine regions, the Loire Valley. Further pacification comes in the form of thinly sliced scallop, lightly torched, sat atop fresh mango, pomelo and mint and carefully balanced on a rice cracker. It’s a one-bite wonder, but no less a wonder for it.

My favourite dish of the night, stir-fried corn with shrimp, embodies the meaning behind the name further. The vibrant yellow hue is a bowl of sunshine, so warm and cheerful it surely must have been the inspiration behind the Natasha Bedingfield hit, though this silky purée is probably not something you’d want in your pocket. Having just returned from the Hà Giang loop, where whole hillsides are striped with rows of cornfields, I enjoy seeing this everyday ingredient getting some love.

Stir-fried corn with shrimps. Photo by Meg Houghton-Gilmour.

Veal carpaccio. Photo by Meg Houghton-Gilmour.

Scallop on rice crackers. Photo by Meg Houghton-Gilmour.

The dry-aged duck with tamarind and the veal carpaccio are more muted in color but no less in flavor, certainly in the case of the duck. Head chef Hưng Nguyễn has clearly treated this duck with care, mastering the art of rendering the generous layer of fat under the skin while leaving the centre rosy-pink. Though I’d always opt for meat on the bone if possible, the hunks of tender breast paired with the fruity and sharp tamarind make it one of the best renditions of duck I’ve had in the whole of Vietnam.

Dry-aged duck with tamarind. Photo by Meg Houghton-Gilmour.

Sweet potato cheesecake. Photo by Meg Houghton-Gilmour.

There are few things I love more than sitting at an open kitchen. The clatter of pans, the small rituals of service, the chance to eavesdrop on your dinner being made — it’s part theatre, part therapy. Not only can you pick up some top-tier cooking tips from watching chefs go about their work, but you often can badger them into giving you restaurant recommendations too.

We finish with a sweet potato cheesecake: a big, wobbly block platforming a quenelle of molasses ice cream. They’ve cut off the best bit, the nose, to make it a rectangle, but it’s exquisite all the same. This dessert is a lesson in balance: sweet, creamy, humming with the umami of potato and the gentle tang of sticky molasses.

A newcomer with great potential

Because of an early trip to Cát Bà the next morning, we don’t make much of a dent in the wine list, but it’s worth noting: this is one of the few places in Hanoi where you’ll find orange wine. The Gerard Bertrand blend is punchy and wild on the nose, and drinks beautifully. There’s plenty more where that came from: five champagnes, plus bottles from Europe, Japan, Morocco, and Australia. I’d love to see some Southeast Asian representation on there eventually — a funky pet-nat from Đà Lạt, perhaps? — but it’s a great start, and no surprise given the third co-founder Triết’s years as a sommelier.

Photos by Meg Houghton-Gilmour.

As we step back into the quiet night, the warm glow of MÀU fades behind us, tucked away across from the Temple of Literature like a secret only the city’s most curious souls stumble upon. In a capital that can sometimes feel caught between tradition and trend, this little wine bar hums with possibility, unafraid to reinterpret, to experiment, to pickle banana and pair it with Loire Valley muscadet.

Chef Hưng Nguyễn (middle) and the team. Photo courtesy of MÀU.

It’s still early days, so the team is tweaking recipes, fighting Google glitches, and pouring drinks over open counters where conversations flow as freely as the natural wine. But if this is MÀU in its infancy, it’s a beautiful beginning. MÀU is a testament to long-standing friendships and what can be achieved when a group of people combine their skills and experience to build something great.

A toast, then, to color — and to a new chapter in Hanoi’s ever-surprising culinary map. It seems the prayers worked after all.

MÀU is open 6pm–11pm, Tue–Sun. Visit their Instagram page for more information.