Hanoi Ngõ Nooks - Saigoneer https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants Sat, 21 Dec 2024 05:10:40 +0700 Joomla! - Open Source Content Management en-gb Ngõ Nooks: Slurping Thick Noodles and Seafood at Bánh Canh Ghẹ Út Còi https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/23677-ngõ-nooks-slurping-noodles,-sweet-broth-and-seafood-at-banh-canh-ghe-ut-coi https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/23677-ngõ-nooks-slurping-noodles,-sweet-broth-and-seafood-at-banh-canh-ghe-ut-coi

A whiff of the ocean hits you before you even step foot onto the street. In this curious corner between Quang Trung and Nhà Chung, a new form of restaurant exemplifies the vitality and variety of Hanoi’s street food.

Street food enthusiasts might be a little disconcerted at first by the setting of Bánh Canh Ghẹ Út Còi; it is, essentially, a resourceful hybrid between the usual gritty, humble food vendors and more hygienic, sanitized restaurants. Here, you get the best of both worlds: the thrill of squatting and crouching while feasting and watching the street, or, if you feel like it, the quietude of sitting up straight in an air-conditioned space.

Bánh Canh Ghẹ Út Còi has expanded to several different locations.

We near the restaurant and get uncomfortable in the seating of our choice — outside, vendor-style, stooping over plastic stools and tables. A couple of young waiters in brown uniforms approach us and take our order. They move swiftly, even when transferring bulks of hot soup on a flimsy tray. They also carry warm, naive smiles that differ from the reserved and professional tone of a high-end restaurant.

The menu is simple yet broad-ranging. All of the options fit neatly on an oval piece of cardboard with colorful graphics. Their signature is bánh canh ghẹ — thick noodles steeped in crab stock that originates from central Vietnam. For side dishes, there’s also bánh bột lọc, a traditional translucent rice snack filled with shrimp and minced pork, and phở cuốn, sheets of phở noodle wrapped around fresh vegetables and shrimp. We go with the signature dish, the meal that brings the crowds here.

Bánh canh ghẹ is characterized by a thick, intensely seafood-scented broth.

The hardest bit about the entire experience is the wait. The eatery is packed during lunch hours as throngs of office workers from around the area flock to the restaurant. The table next to us ordered first and, naturally, their food arrived before ours. The sweet yet salty, mouth-watering scent of crab gets all the waiting tables craning their necks out to see if it’s their order.

Finally, it arrives. The vibrant, almost brick-red color of the broth marries well with the umami fragrance. Crab meat coats the noodles, two pieces of chả, two quail eggs, and a plump peeled shrimp. And then there’s the broth, which has a pleasing, almost gelatin viscosity, which provides its body and ability to glaze the noodles.

Not for those with lackluster chopstick skills.

It also makes picking up the noodles a struggle. Bánh canh is already a slippery type of noodle. Its thickness only allows you to fish out a couple of lengths at a time, and with silkiness from both their texture and the broth, some of these will fall off. At times, you might be left with no noodles at all on your chopsticks!

But the effort is worth it. The broth has a wholesome sweet-and-salty flavor that lingers in every part of your palate, even after you finish eating. The crab meat almost melts under the warmth of your tongue. The noodles have just the right firmness and bounciness to release the juiciness of the dish. The combination is so hearty and fulfilling that you might even forget about the shrimp, chả and quail eggs.

The silkiness that challenges even veteran eaters.

Bánh Canh Ghẹ Út Còi represents a new wave of street food that’s spreading across Hanoi. It shows how the city’s street food scene is ever-present. Although the original generations of some conventional eateries are fading away, foodies will always find a way to innovate the capital’s cuisine, adapting to new demands while sustaining its essence.

Bánh Canh Ghẹ Út Còi is open from 8.30am to 2.30pm and again from 5pm to 10pm.

This article was originally published on Urbanist Hanoi in 2019.

To sum up:

Taste: 5/5
Price: 5/5
Atmosphere: 4/5
Friendliness: 5/5
Location: 4/5 

Linh is 50% coffee and 50% whatever Hanoian snacks she's able to eat.

Bánh Canh Ghẹ Út Còi

2B Quang Trung, Hoàn Kiếm, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Linh Nguyễn. Photos by Chris Humphrey.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Thu, 14 Nov 2024 12:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: This Modern Co-op Serves up One of Hanoi's Best Skewer Bánh Mì https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/23490-hearty-banh-mi-from-a-new-fashioned-hanoi-co-operative https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/23490-hearty-banh-mi-from-a-new-fashioned-hanoi-co-operative

Hợp Tác Xã Thịt Xiên is more than just a bánh mì eatery, it’s a place to rekindle your childhood nostalgia and take in the ambiance of the street.

For me, amongst the countless number of bánh mì thịt xiên nướng joints in Hanoi, one really stands out. Lê Hoàng Đức set up Hợp Tác Xã Thịt Xiên — or the meat skewer co-op — in 2011 when he was just 21. After quitting his regular job, Đức pursued his dream of starting his own business and settled on a small, homemade food operation. It began as a humble stall in alley 66 off Chùa Láng Street, with only a few plastic stools.

This skewer place is one of the longest-running snack vendors in Hanoi.

“It was a hard time back then,” he told me. “We didn’t have enough customers to cover our expenses. We had to push through all the obstacles and try to keep the business running. Although one good thing [was] that we didn’t have to pay rent since we were only open on the street.”

Wishing to keep the price reasonable, Đức charged VND7,000 VND for xiên thịt (pork meat skewers) and VND3,000 for bánh mì, while trà đá was free. Not only was the price cheap, but the skewers were also a cut above the rest and, thanks to word-of-mouth reviews, more and more customers found their way to the stall.

Hợp Tác Xã's aesthetics fall in line with youth culture.

“There were times when we sold 1,000 skewers and served more than 400 customers in less than an hour, and there was a line of people waiting for their turn,” Đức said.

After six years of serving 50 kilograms of meat every day, together with the support of food lovers, he finally realized his dream of upgrading his stall from the alley to a proper house.

Cheeky (literally) gimmicks remain a core attribute of the decoration.

“I named it Hợp Tác Xã Thịt Xiên as I remembered my uncle telling me stories about those co-operatives back in the day; how everyone worked together really well to keep the place running. It’s the same here. I’ve had people working with me for years now. We are like a family,” Đức said.

Although it’s now a proper restaurant, the decor remains modest, albeit a little gimmicky. In an attempt to keep the street food experience vibe, the team brought elements of the “pavement” inside the restaurant: plastic and wooden stools, the “Ngõ 66” sign, a rustic brick wall, barbed wire and one of the capital’s famous electricity posts covered in black wires.

Bánh mì thịt xiên is still one of the menu's best-selling item.

Góc Tự Giác is a new addition featuring some all-time favorite childhood snacks. What’s cool about this corner is that there is no staff around, so it’s a self-checkout system if you want to buy something from the baskets.

The most important thing that makes Hợp Tác Xã stand out, however, is the quality of its grilled meat. With crispy bread and succulent meat, their bánh mì thịt xiên is still the best-selling dish on the menu. You can choose to have one, two or three skewers. The recipe might sound simple, and it is, but the real secret is the marinade. The ratio between fish sauce, oyster sauce and honey has to be perfect so the skewers come out juicy, fragrant and scrumptious.

An inviting smokeyness gives the skewers an addicting edge.

On top of that, you get to choose which sauce you want on top: coconut sauce, tamarind sauce, or classic spicy mayo. They’ve also added a few more items to the menu, like nộm thịt xiên (green papaya salad with skewers) and peach tea, kumquat tea or soy milk.

“During eight years in the business, we were on the street for more than five years. I feel blessed because I had that stepping stone and support from people who’ve been coming back,” Đức said. “Being on the street for that long was the main reason why I wanted to bring that atmosphere to the restaurant when I opened it, in the hope of creating that same aesthetic people love.”

You can find Hợp Tác Xã Thịt Xiên at 55 Chùa Láng. They open from 11am to 1pm, and again from 4pm to 7pm.

This article was originally published in 2019 on Urbanist Hanoi. 

To sum up:

Taste: 5/5
Price: 5/5
Atmosphere: 5/5
Friendliness: 5/5
Location: 3/5

At night, Gia Nguyễn is a drag queen. In the day time, all he does is eat noodles.

Hợp Tác Xã Thịt Xiên

55 Chùa Láng, Đống Đa District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Gia Nguyễn. Photos by Bạc Hà.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Fri, 30 Aug 2024 07:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: Bingsu, Folk Crafts, and Hanboks at Hanoi's Hayoon Cafe https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26991-ngõ-nooks-bingsu,-folk-crafts,-and-hanboks-at-hanoi-s-hayoon-cafe https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26991-ngõ-nooks-bingsu,-folk-crafts,-and-hanboks-at-hanoi-s-hayoon-cafe

“What inspired you to open a Korean cafe?” I ask Giang, the manager of Hayoon Cafe in Nam Từ Liêm, a popular Korean district in Hanoi.

Giang giggles with a glint in her eye. “I got a Korean boyfriend,” she says.

But Giang’s interest in Korean culture goes back much further than her relationship. She majored in Korean Language at university and met her boyfriend while working at a Korean company in Hanoi. Now, she hopes other Vietnamese people will fall for Korean culture just as she did, and Hayoon Cafe is the ideal venue for people to do just that.

If they can find Hayoon Cafe, that is. As it's situated among a grid of leafy, hidden streets, getting to Hayoon Cafe feels a bit like breaking into a private estate. I gave the security guard as innocent a smile as I could muster as I stepped through the gate, not quite believing he would actually permit me to enter. He watched emotionlessly as I walked past, and I soon found the cafe tucked in amongst a long row of houses. 

The project started as a language center in 2022, teaching both Korean and Vietnamese. The second and third floors of the building are comprised of classrooms fitted with long white tables, projectors, and television screens. There is also a room for private events, complete with a full beer fridge and a balcony overlooking the pedestrianized streets below. 

Photos via Hayoon Cafe.

As well as language classes, students can take part in workshops teaching traditional Korean arts and crafts, such as arranging bojagi (wrapping cloth), painting bokjumeoni (coin purses), and hanji (folding fans). In June 2023, Giang expanded on this idea of cultural exchange by turning the ground floor into a Korean-style cafe. 

The cafe has a minimalist aesthetic — white walls with flashes of blossom pink, bare wood, blocks of elegant hangul script, panoramic windows, and stacks of Korean board games. There is a small, quieter mezzanine with a large window overlooking the garden. The garden is fronted by a lavish, solid wood gate and hemmed in by white walls topped with Korean “giwa” (tiles). It all creates the perfect backdrop for what Giang claims is the most important aspect of the cafe’s charm: the fancy dress.

Giang gets up from our table and leads me into a small room near the back of the first floor. Here, customers can choose from a variety of different color hanboks (traditional Korean gowns), sporting pastel pinks, bold stripes, and elegant gold patterns. There are also hats, fans and headdresses, as well as tripods and flash diffusers for all your amateur modelling needs. 

Photo via Hayoon Cafe.

The menu is as vibrant as the fancy dress, with punchy fruit smoothies accompanied by indulgent bowls of bingsu (fluffy Korean shaved ice), with toppings ranging from crunched Oreo, to mango chunks, to matcha cream. There is also a selection of Korean teas and cakes. 

Giang’s passion shines through in every detail, and it’s clear she has the greatest respect for Korea, its culture, and its people.

“I was first attracted to Korean culture by the kindness of the people,” says Giang. “Not only are they very friendly, but they are also very stylish and very hardworking.” 

Văn and Quỳnh Anh, two staff members who kindly offered to translate for Giang and I, also chip in with their take on the matter. “Compared to Korean people, I think Vietnamese are maybe more free and less hardworking,” says Văn. 

“And who is more fun?” I ask. “Both,” says Quỳnh Anh. “Both are very fun in different ways.”

Photo via Hayoon Cafe.

Perhaps this throwaway comment hits upon Hayoon cafe’s biggest achievement. While Giang’s ultimate goal of bringing Korean and Vietnamese cultures together might sound lofty, she achieves her objective through a focus on enjoyment. Her smile when she quips about her Korean boyfriend, the splashes of pink, the elaborate fancy dress, the decadent desserts and the handicrafts are all reminders that learning is supposed to be fun. Hayoon cafe delivers this with passion, style, and a welcome bit of silliness.

Hayoon Cafe is open from 10am to 10pm.

To sum up:

Taste: 4/5
Price: 4/5
Atmosphere: 4/5
Friendliness: 5/5
Location: 4/5

Oliver describes bún chả as “wet burgers” and burgers as “dry bún chả.” 

Hayoon Cafe

Lot 93 TT4, Mỹ Đình–Sông Đà Residential Area, Nam Từ Liêm District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Oliver Newman. Photos by Oliver Newman.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Thu, 02 May 2024 10:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: In the Same Hanoi Building, a Music Fan's Essentials — Vinyls and Cocktails https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26571-ngõ-nooks-hanoi-lp-club-vinyl-montauk-cocktail-bar-coffee-shop-review https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26571-ngõ-nooks-hanoi-lp-club-vinyl-montauk-cocktail-bar-coffee-shop-review

Sharing a building, Montauk and LP Club might initially appear to be just another cafe and another record store, but their goals are far loftier than selling drinks and vinyl.

I place my highball on one of the tables inside Montauk and head upstairs to LP Club. There, I find two men sitting on a rug surrounded by cardboard, scissors, and stacks of purple CD cases. They laugh and hum along to Japanese city pop as I flip through wooden boxes filled with records. Slowdive, M83, Frank Ocean — I could spend the next three days here without getting bored.

Montauk is a music-themed cocktail bar.

Unfortunately, thanks to Joe Biden’s imminent arrival in Hanoi forcing all businesses in Kim Mã to close for the next two days, I only had a single afternoon to spare. Upon learning this, I chug my highball, hop a xe ôm to my hotel, grab my camera, and rush back to Montauk/LP Club.

Because it's mid-autumn season, lanterns dot the corners of Montauk.

It’s a very photogenic space, especially if you enjoy getting lost in small details: a fish tank, vinyl sleeves above the bar, old cassettes stuck to the wall beneath the stairs, anime figurines, mini vinyl drink coasters, local band merch strewn over antique speakers, a shrine hidden behind an upholstered chair, and at least three days' worth of vinyl to flick through.

Montauk is inspired more by 2000s film than by music. The name Montauk refers to the setting of the 2004 Charlie Kaufman movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, and the blue and orange color scheme evokes Kate Winslet’s hair and coat combination from that movie. The playlist is as hip as you would expect, mixing the occasional Vietnamese number into mostly western sets. It’s a great space to work or just kill a couple of hours chilling to the soundtrack and sipping cocktails, especially if you can nab a place on the sofa.

A Ngọt album in its natural habitat: next to a Beatles paraphernalia.

While there seem to be innumerable retro-inspired cafes opening around Hanoi, the goal of Montauk/LP Club is deceptively progressive. Its mission becomes clear when I start speaking to Anh Tú, the owner of LP Club, among the piles of CD cases scattered over the shop floor.

True to its name, LP club is filled with vinyl records.

“There have been many record shops opening in Hanoi the last few years, but most have already closed down because they’re just record shops. We’re able to keep going because we also produce music,” Tú explains.

This music production is a joint venture between Anh Tú and Ngọc, the owner of Montauk. Ngọc has spent most of his career working in Vietnamese media where he was able establish vital connections and learn about the music industry.

Record-digging is a real hobby.

The purple CDs on the floor, Tú explains, are for a Thanh Tùng tribute record by local artist Quỳnh Anh. Tú gladly shows me more CDs that he and Ngọc are producing for other indie acts, one presented in such an elaborate boxset of paraphernalia that he has to point out where the actual CD is.

Trinkets are peppered across the space.

“People want the physical product,” he shares. “And sure, this phenomenon is happening all over the world, but it’s especially true in Vietnam. This is because traditionally in Vietnam artists don’t really make albums — even the most famous ones. And because of this, their fans have no loyalty to them. They don’t have real fans, just people who enjoy hit records. So if they put on a concert of just them, I’m telling you, I’m telling you — no one will come. But now indie bands, because they are making albums — not just making albums but also releasing them on CD, vinyl, cassette — they have strong groups of real fans and can sell out their shows.”

Music posters awash in red light.

Local musicians can actually hold these shows at Montauk. The owners frequently use the space to stage album release parties. Such events embody the values held by Montauk and LP Club; they are not simply milking nostalgia trends to sell coffee and records, but using their businesses as a springboard for new artists. This in turn gives both of them a stronger foothold within the local indie scene.

LP Club also plays host to many cozy album launches by indie artists.

Of course, the music production and album parties would not work if Montauk/LP Club were not simply a cool place to hang out, have a drink, and browse records. Like a lot of the best cafes in Hanoi, it feels like a place that shouldn’t exist, like a bubble of calm amid the chaos. Once you set yourself down with your drink, and the music kicks in, and you take a sip and marvel at the retro decor, it feels like nothing could ever tear you away. Nothing except the convoy route of a foreign politician, of course.

A space for sipping on some alcohol and listening to music.

Montauk and LP Club are open from 7:30am to 11:30pm. 

Montauk/LP Club

174 Kim Mã, Kim Mã Ward, Ba Đình District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Oliver Newman. Photos by Oliver Newman.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Sun, 08 Oct 2023 11:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: The Quiet Intimacy of Tree Bar, Where Strangers Become Fast Friends https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26504-ngõ-nooks-the-quiet-intimacy-of-tree-bar,-where-strangers-become-fast-friends https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26504-ngõ-nooks-the-quiet-intimacy-of-tree-bar,-where-strangers-become-fast-friends

A group of patrons gossip in thick, fast Japanese. They might all know each other or they might just speak to anyone at the bar as if they already know them. The wizened “master” joins in from his perch beneath the liquor shelves, as salarymen shuffle in and out of back rooms.

There are countless Japanese-style bars in Hanoi, but none feels quite the same as Tree Dining and Bar, known to locals as “Tree Bar.” It doesn’t even feel like a bar you’d find in downtown Tokyo, but one you’d stumble upon slightly drunk after catching the last train back to your local station. Tree Bar reminds me of a hole-in-the-wall place I found late at night in West Tokyo, where one local once declared, much to the approval of the other drinkers, that my presence as a lone British man gave the evening a “tremendously global energy.”

Tree Bar's interior is understated with clean mahogany furniture. 

When I ask Kobayashi-san, who founded the bar in 2021, about how he managed to create such an authentic Japanese bar in Hanoi, his answer is simple: “Since it is a bar run by a Japanese person, it incorporates elements of Japanese style.” There are no flashy Japanese trinkets on display — no anime figurines, calligraphy or cosplay. There is not even a mention of Japan in the bar’s title or description. It doesn’t need to sell itself as Japanese, it just is Japanese.

While the space is run by a Japanese owner, it doesn't feel the need to plaster themed decor at every corner.

“Tree Bar is a quiet bar where there are only a few people, and there are many customers who come for after-parties,” says Kobayashi-san. “In Japan, many bars have the image of being a place where you can quietly enjoy drinking and conversation.”

It would be almost impossible not to end up in a conversation at Tree Bar. My friend and I chatted with several locals and staff members — often stumbling through in a mind-bending mix of English, Japanese, and Vietnamese — exchanging jokes and food recommendations.

A mixture of Vietnamese, Japanese and English is often heard during opening time.

As is often the case with similar “after-party” places in Tokyo, the food at Tree Bar is surprisingly excellent. The curry is smooth and a little sweet, and the karaage (Japanese fried chicken) is crispy and steaming hot. There is also a good selection of spirits, especially shochu.

The kare raisu and karaage are both delicious.

Often overshadowed internationally by sake and Japanese whiskey, shochu is a varied and versatile spirit predominantly derived from either barley or sweet potato. Tree Bar stocks two barley-based shochus in Iichiko and Kanoko, and three sweet potato-based brands. The barley-based drinks tend to be much smoother, with Iichiko a particularly good choice for your first foray into shochu.

Tree Bar is a popular after-party destination for those wanting to socialize into the night after dinner.

“The alcohol in shochu decomposes faster than in sake, beer, wine, etc. and it is less likely to cause a hangover,” says Kobayashi-san. “Shochu is also a low-calorie, sugar-free drink that is made in consideration of Japanese food.”

It is also delicious, making it the perfect alcoholic companion for a late-night Japanese snack. If you plan on returning, you can always buy a bottle and save it for next time. The staff will label your drink with your name in Japanese katakana or, as it seems to be the case with many bottles lining the glass shelves, a cute doodle of your face.

You can buy entire bottles of sake and the staff will help reserve it using a cute tag.

Tree Bar is a place that you’ll want to go back to. More than that, it’s a place that you’ll want to feel a part of. Walking inside as locals recognize you and Kobayashi-san takes your personal bottle of shochu from the shelf gives a feeling of warm belonging, making Tree Bar a very comforting kind of after-party hangout.

To sum up:

Taste: 5/5
Atmosphere: 5/5
Location: 4/5
Friendliness: 5/5
Price: 4/5

Tree Dining & Bar

6 Ngõ 41, Linh Lang, Cống Vị Ward, Ba Đình District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Oliver Newman. Photos by Chris Humphrey and Nguyệt.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Sat, 09 Sep 2023 21:10:29 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: Hanoi's Long Waits Jazz Club Dreams a Little Dream of Jazz https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26493-ngõ-nooks-hanoi-s-long-waits-jazz-club-dreams-a-little-dream-of-jazz https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26493-ngõ-nooks-hanoi-s-long-waits-jazz-club-dreams-a-little-dream-of-jazz

Long Waits, a self-proclaimed “modest jazz club,” is the culmination of many dreams that merged and shifted before finally giving Hanoi a modern yet quaint jazz experience.

On the second floor of a house in phố cổ, hidden inside an alley and wedged between a café and a private residence, stands Long Waits. The entire floor has been converted into a stage, a bar, and enough space to host an intimate audience. 

I visit Long Waits on a rainy Friday morning. On stage, Bảo Long, the venue’s co-owner and a fixture of the Vietnamese jazz scene, is directing the band with his familiar saxophone in hand. They are doing a last run-through before Bass Night, during which a roster of eight different bass players will take turn playing. Next to me, Hùng, another co-owner, is folding flyers. The simple pages announcing the show will be placed in cafes such as Tranquil or Blackbirds, which are either renovated by, run by, or owned by the owners of Long Waits. 

Keiko (left), Vũ Hà (middle), Bảo Long (right) on stage.

“That piano that you see on stage was not an easy feat to get in here,” Hùng, who oversaw the renovation of the place, explains. “We had to take apart the stairs’ baluster and handrail. And then create a hoisting system to get it up here.”

Long Waits' piano being brought into the venue.

Long Waits is not a first project for the owners involved as evidenced by the obvious attention to detail given to the space. The stage and most of the walls are painted a warm shade of maroon brown that both unifies and lengthens the room. The bar area and ceiling are left bare to retain some of the space’s initial old charm. The lights are dim and soft, coming mainly from the stage and the cubic glass light fixture above the bar. While the staircase leading into the club is brand new, it's the dark, worn wooden tone inside that so seamlessly fits the mood. The understated and well-curated space is perfectly suited to its purpose of highlighting the music played on stage without compromising the audience’s comfort. 

Long Waits came about due to the chance encounter of jazz aficionados, Bảo Long and Tuấn Anh. Tuấn Anh wanted to learn to play the saxophone, and in Bảo Long, he found both a friend and a teacher. Tuấn Anh had already opened bars, such as Longer Than a Summer, and the cafe chains previously mentioned, some of which with Hùng, his friend from university, so he knew a thing or two about setting up and running successful businesses. Yet, Long Waits does not feel overtly commercial. 

Bass rehearsal during the day.

When asked about how he would define his current job, Bảo Long shares that he wants to foster the new generation of jazz musicians in Vietnam. As the venue’s bandleader, he takes care of composing and selecting the music for Long Waits’ programming. He revisits cult classics each night, going through the history of jazz, and adapting the score to fit the band.

Leading up to the bar’s opening, he attended graduation concerts and recitals from private academies to scout for talents: “I don’t pick the best, I try to look for talented musicians that still need guidance to hone their skills. People that can withstand pressure.”

You might have heard of Jump For Jazz, a jazz band led by Bảo Long, that plays in different venues in Hanoi and Hồ Chí Minh City. The band has rotating members, with new faces sitting beside the saxophonist’s longtime collaborators. Long Waits is in many ways the sensible next step for Jump For Jazz. The bar provides a permanent place for young musicians to come and experience jazz, a genre that is inherently meant to be felt more than just be heard. 

The band features members of all ages.

After my first visit, a Sonny Rollins tribute night, I hang out at the bar, where I overhear a young musician discussing her favorable opinion of the evening and her personal musical journey. A singer from the National Academy, she has struggled to find good live music experiences within the city. Being able to watch and talk to accomplished musicians feels rewarding. 

During the rehearsal session that I attend a couple of days later, I can't help but notice that all the bass players were, at best, in their mid-twenties, while some could pass for high-schoolers. They wear cargo pants and baggy band shirts, and their backpacks and instrument cases have colorful stickers and patches with pop culture references. I even catch a young drummer playing a video game on his phone during the break.

“Pressure is essential. People might disagree with this, but the reality is, there is a lot of pressure if you want to make it as a jazz musician anywhere.”

The contrast between well-established musicians and the younger crowd is unusual. Yet the moment they start playing together, one could not deny their shared love for the craft. Their professionalism could be seen through their meticulous focus. When Bảo Long stops a musician to correct them, only seconds pass before they find a common voice. When it does take longer to reach an understanding, their mutual determination to get it right makes up for what can look like a relentless pursuit of perfection from Bảo Long. Despite his calm and patient demeanor, he is not easy. 

“Pressure is essential. People might disagree with this, but the reality is, there is a lot of pressure if you want to make it as a jazz musician anywhere. You need to make a profit, run shows, find the place and time to practice, while still working on your craft,” Bảo Long shares. “And let’s not forget that jazz, since its inception, is born from struggle,” he continues, alluding to the racist history of jazz in America and the poverty it was born out of. 

As a celebrated jazz saxophonist, Bảo Long’s journey must not have been an easy one. He sets a high standard for himself and his band that can be heard through the layered and textured tones of his performance. He understands more than anyone that jazz needs nurturing and that without educators and supporters, it is likely to become inaccessible. Long Waits seems like a direct answer to this challenge. 

Bảo Long behind the bar.

When you do visit Long Waits, I hope you get to experience the good music and relaxing atmosphere. But most of all, I hope you catch a glimpse of the joy emanating from the musicians on stage, regardless of their age or years of experience. You might spot the stolen glances between the pianist and the drummer after an especially challenging part, or maybe the almost unnoticeable approving smile from Bảo Long after a solo. 

Long Waits

5 Nguyễn Quang Bích, Hoàn Kiếm District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Nguyệt. Photos courtesy of Long Waits.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Mon, 04 Sep 2023 10:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: Nourishment for the Soul at Canh Bún Nguyễn Siêu https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/23885-ngõ-nooks-nourishment-for-the-soul-at-canh-bún-nguyễn-siêu https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/23885-ngõ-nooks-nourishment-for-the-soul-at-canh-bún-nguyễn-siêu

Eating canh bún is akin to going for a walk on a clear day as sunset melts over the city; it costs almost nothing yet nourishes the soul.

There are those who belittle Vietnamese noodle varieties, claiming they are a bottom tier choice compared to mightier options in Singapore or Thailand. They are, of course, wrong. At a mere VND30,000 per bowl, a bowl of noodles at Canh Bún Nguyễn Siêu offers not only remarkable value for the ravenous but also bún of impressive girth to silence the haters.

Canh bún is a simple and refreshing summer snack.

The eatery, located a Frisbee’s throw from Ô Quan Chưởng, the Old East Gate to the city, is a claustrophobic space. Its interior is a cramped accumulation of squat, plastic chairs crammed into an area that measures less than 30 square meters. And upon arriving, parking takes up most of one’s time, as it’s a struggle to fit a motorbike between those of more punctual customers. Yet none of these issues is a reason not to come.

Canh bún is actually a lesser-known variation of bún riêu cua, and is popular across northern Vietnam. There are, however, several key differences. The noodles used in canh bún are significantly thicker than those found in its more famous cousin, and form one of its greatest attributes. This noodle is precooked in boiling water before being re-cooked in the soup, creating a silken softness.

The limited space means even tables are a luxury one can't enjoy here.

Another defining variance is the use of rau muống, which features alongside pork rind, Vietnamese sausage, rich tomatoes steeped in stock and, of course, a handful of crispy shallots. The broth is infused with crab, creating a less intense yet more delicate flavor compared to that of bún riêu cua. Thankfully, no snails feature in this dish either and, true to tradition, one can wash it all down with a sepia glass of trà đá.

Canh Bún Nguyễn Siêu is not really a spot for long lunches, but the experience of eating off tiny stools on the floor might be worth a visit.

What stands out most, though, is the noodles. Despite their relatively tough appearance, each strand is tender and marries well with the stock. The onions contrast the canh bún with a nice layer of crunchiness alongside the freshness of the spinach and the intense flavor of the sausages. What results is a dish that somehow provides visitors with both familiarity and a sense of discovery.

A simple broth is eaten with chả and lots of fried shallots.

It is swift business here, though. Hanoians come and go in throngs and feast in minutes. Yet while the food may be fast, it’s in no way cleared of its responsibility to provide nourishment from vitamins and minerals, as other snacking options seem to be. The portion size is not vast, but that is of no concern. Upon finishing, one feels the kind of wholesome, deep satiety that comes from food that offers a feeling of completeness. Only a fool eats to please the tongue, a wise person does to satisfy the soul.

The lunch rush.

The restaurant opens from 11am to 3pm, but you should come at noon for the best quality food.

To sum up:

Taste: 5/5
Price: 5/5
Atmosphere: 4/5
Friendliness: 4/5
Location: 5/5 

Canh Bún Nguyễn Siêu

21 Nguyễn Siêu, Hoàn Kiếm District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Hoa Tran and Chris Humphrey. Photos by Chris Humphrey.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Thu, 31 Aug 2023 10:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: Tender Bar Is an Introvert's Haven, Except on Tuesdays https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26403-ngõ-nooks-tender-bar-is-an-introvert-s-haven,-except-on-tuesdays https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26403-ngõ-nooks-tender-bar-is-an-introvert-s-haven,-except-on-tuesdays

“Just read it and forget it. Then you can write anything you like about Tender Bar. Thank you.”

Ngọc, who founded Tender Bar in 2021 because “it was preordered [sic] by the universe,” signs off with this message after condensing her life story into a five-page biography for me. The only problem is that both Ngọc and her bar have left a lasting imprint upon my memory.

Feline staff members often have secret meetings right in the bar.

Climbing through the different floors of Tender Bar feels a little like following Alice out of Wonderland. You begin in the dense, winding shelves of the ground-floor bookshop, ascend through a cluster of bar areas and emerge into a breezy garden at the summit.

“I want [to make it so] that when you come in, you feel like you are lost in a book or a movie,” says Ngọc. “You don't need to be cool, you don't need to be deep, you don't have to pretend to be poetic or artistic… I want this place to feel easy to reach, easy to come and go.”

A cozy space just to be or... not to be.

This is basically all Ngọc can say about her intentions for the bar, as everything else — in both Tender Bar and her life generally — is simply the result of whim and “meaningless coincidence.”

Her friend wanted to store books downstairs, so it became a bookshop. Customers flocked to the bar before she had time to put up a sign, so it became a “hidden bar.” The house special cocktails are cumbersome, so she does not advertise them anywhere in the building. Some customers will like the vibe and some won’t, so she lets them be: “Whatever they feel, it's right, because that's how they feel.”

The bright, inviting bookstore on the first floor.

Ngọc also finds great irony in how all these coincidences depict a premonition from her 20s: “It's a little funny, because if someone asked me at the age of 23 how I would envision myself when I [would be] 50 or 60, I would say: an old lady who has a bar, lives with six cats and chatters on about her life story… it turned out to be true in some way.”

Feline staff members also like to take naps, please do not disturb.

There are two cats, not six. You can often find them curled up on a barstool or slinking between readers in the bookshop — a deep red cove packed floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves, cassette players, and paintings in battered wooden frames.

The bar area is even more cave-like, with thick, rolling strokes of blue ceiling paint evoking moonlit waves glimpsed from the ocean depths.

Dim lighting makes for an enigmatic air.

“I wanted the ceiling to be the color of the sky at the second floor,” says Ngoc. “I don't care much what people think about it and it's funny because most people ask if the ceiling is damp, the colors are so patchy.”

The rooftop garden is less an outlet than another cavern, crowded by thickets of power lines and trees. Greenery spills from pots lining the walls and taller buildings drown out the sky, creating the perfect enclave for Tender Bar’s live music and movie nights.

The rooftop garden for those who want to enjoy their drinks en plein air.

It is also a great spot to enjoy a coffee or cocktail from the single handwritten menu kept at the bar. I didn’t try any of the special drinks because, naturally, there was nothing to indicate they existed, but the classic cocktails are simple yet well balanced. The bar and balcony area is a pleasant space to sit alone, letting the drinks sink into you amid dreamy glimpses of the outside world.

“There used to be a big tree by the balcony,” says the owner. “When the street lights came on, it looked like a sparkling river. That tree was cut down so I planted another one. And the light at the 3rd floor stairs shining through the window made me feel like I was watching the sunset. So we have sunsets at all times of day.”

Like a still-life painting.

It all culminates in the soft, dreamlike embrace that encapsulates her one definitive goal for Tender Bar: to create a refuge that doesn’t care who you are or why you’re there.

So go or don’t go, love it or loathe it, order a special cocktail that may or may not exist, then forget it or remember it; whatever you do and feel will be right, because that’s what Tender Bar is there for.

Tender Bar is open from 10am to near midnight every day except Tuesday. Read the bar's guide for newcomers to have the best experience.

Tender Bar

No. 8, Ngõ 29, Nguyễn Chí Thanh, Ngọc Khánh Ward, Ba Đình District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Oliver Newman. Photos by Linh Phạm and Tender Bar.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Fri, 07 Jul 2023 11:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: A Ngõ Cafe Houses Big Dreams for Buôn Ma Thuột Beans https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26354-ngõ-nooks-a-ngõ-cafe-houses-big-dreams-for-buôn-ma-thuột-beans https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26354-ngõ-nooks-a-ngõ-cafe-houses-big-dreams-for-buôn-ma-thuột-beans

A well-known singer from the Central Highlands city of Buôn Ma Thuột, Mai Trang is taking an extended break from show business to focus on her other passion: coffee.

“She has to taste a lot of coffee for her job,” Trang's husband tells me as the two of them take me on a coffee tour of the Old Quarter. “But the problem is she doesn’t just taste it, she drinks it.” I can testify to this. When Mai Trang invites me to her cafe, Mason Bee in Cầu Giấy, she not only has me try three different espressos and two egg coffees in under an hour, but matches me drink for drink.

“It doesn’t matter how much coffee you drink throughout the day,” she says, nodding towards a liquor shelf above the bar. “You can always get to sleep as long as you have enough whiskey or wine!”

The cozy counter at Mason Bee.

I take her word for it as I brave a palpitation-inducing amount of caffeine. But if getting wired on premium Vietnamese coffee is your thing, Mason Bee is the place to go. It has a simple, modern interior with stools lining a Japanese-style cafe bar. Bags of speciality coffee beans — all bought directly from farmers around the Central Highlands — surround a spaceship-like espresso machine, and tables spill into the dappled shade outside.

The more coffee Mai Trang drinks, the more she sings, and there is one particular line that comes up again and again: “Còn thương nhau thì về Buôn Ma Thuột / If you love me, come to Buôn Ma Thuột.” The refrain comes from an old song that Mai Trang covered, but she sings it so much — interjecting it at random intervals throughout our conversation — that it feels like a personal mantra.

Coffee is really the star here.

This is because Mai Trang’s passion for coffee is twinned with her love of Buôn Ma Thuột. While she loves her cafe, it almost feels like a vehicle by which she can help her home province and, perhaps incidentally, improve the international reputation of Vietnamese coffee.

Coffee was introduced to Northern Vietnam by the French but is actually best suited for the Central Highlands, particularly around Buôn Ma Thuột. After the French Vietnam quickly gained a reputation for exporting huge quantities of relatively low-quality coffee. This changed slightly as distributors, coming mostly from Taiwan and Japan, saw business opportunities within this emerging market. Many of these distributors helped to improve the technical quality of the coffee but left farmers with the same meager profits.

The housemade cà phê trứng.

Mai Trang wants to change this. From participating in the Buôn Ma Thuột Coffee Festival, to working with the Speciality Coffee Association to help provide coffee farmers with modern equipment and up-to-date knowledge, she is taking a hands-on approach to improving the industry in any way she can. “I am only one person,” she says as we drink what could just as easily be our third or tenth espresso of the day. “But what I hope is that the cafe improves as we help the farmers to improve their crop.”

“The first thing that we can change is the knowledge of the farmers, like how to control the quality of their coffee and sell it in a way that doesn’t depend on fluctuating market values, and also how to change the way to process the coffee. Coffee trees are like humans — they only need about 5–6 hours of sunlight a day — so don’t just plant coffee but create an ecosystem by planting many fruit trees to provide shade.”

The small indoor seating arrangements feature a few seats at the counter and tables along the wall.

It all comes together in Mason Bee. While the coffee is delicious, it is the story of how it got into your cup that is most interesting; knowing that the beans have been “reared” and sold not by a faceless distribution company, but by a farmer who knows and cares about what they’re growing and how they’re growing it, and who, most importantly, is receiving fair compensation for their product.

This is seemingly the main motivation for Mai Trang, and she affords this goal an impressive amount of energy despite her busy schedule. She seems to manage by compartmentalizing her different goals into alternate selves. There is the singer, the coffee lover, the strong highland woman, the elegant city girl, the mother, the free spirit; she switches between these personas at will, fully committing to each one in turn.

Coffee apparati on the shelves.

So, being caught between her alternate selves, as well as between her cafe and a number of producers enticing her back into show business, is there a Mai Trang that finds time to just zone out and relax?

“Oh, yes. Recently I love watching animated movies with my son. My favourite is that one with all the ice. It’s called… Fridge Girl!”

“Do you mean Frozen?”

“Yes!”

Which mug do you fancy your coffee in?

Perhaps the only slight regret in all of this is that, before Mai Trang’s frustrations with the pressures of show business, she clearly found refuge in singing. Driving her car around Old Quarter and answering my questions in Mason Bee, she sings and taps along to an eclectic playlist, from Aerosmith, to Kissed by a Rose, to the Genshin Impact soundtrack, and finally to a refrain that I’d become intimately familiar with over the previous day and half.

“I wanted to record this song in a way that really captures the spirit of my people — their strength, their wisdom, their gentleness — and show it to the world,” she says. Then she begins to sing, both on the speakers and live in person, as the song breaks into its final entreaty: “If you love me, come to Buôn Ma Thuột.”

The rustic entrance to the cafe.

Again, it all comes together in Mason Bee. Despite Mai Trang’s best efforts to compartmentalize her conflicting selves, they are all on show as she sings about the Central Highlands while surrounded by personally sourced bags of coffee beans, and again when she talks about performing in Ho Chi Minh City as her son embarrasses me with a series of math questions. All her contradictions align in this space; all of them fuelled by a relentless energy that, miraculously, seems to have nothing at all to do with caffeine.

Mason Bee Coffee is open from 7:30am to 7pm.

Mason Bee Coffee

3 Ngõ 143, Trung Kính, Yên Hoà Ward, Cầu Giấy District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Oliver Newman. Photos by Léo Paul-Guyot.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Sun, 11 Jun 2023 20:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: What a Tea Ceremony Taught Me About Our Lotus Tea Traditions https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26309-ngõ-nooks-what-a-tea-ceremony-taught-me-about-our-lotus-tea-traditions https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26309-ngõ-nooks-what-a-tea-ceremony-taught-me-about-our-lotus-tea-traditions

“The lotus is our national flower, and lotus tea is regarded as the national tea.”

Nguyễn Việt Hùng emphasized the role of lotus tea in Vietnam's national identity during our chat. Hùng and his wife, Vũ Thị Hải Yến, started their own tea shop in hopes of bringing Vietnam’s tea culture to international drinkers. One sunny day amidst summer, I decided to pay them a visit at Hiền Minh Tea House to experience a tea ceremony hosted by Hùng himself.

The tranquil interior of Hiền Minh.

Before brewing the tea, Hùng invited me to spend a few minutes in meditation to “mellow out,” then he would detail the intricate steps of the tea scenting process. “Making a good lotus tea is an elaborate, meticulous and complex craft,” Hùng explained. “Each phase, each rhythm could directly impact the flavor.” First, the type of tea leaves. Often, tea makers use trà mạn (unscented dried leaves) to infuse with lotus, but we chose ancient Snow Shan tea.

Each tea session begins with a few minutes of meditation.

“I picked Snow Shan because the lotus is the essence of heaven and earth, so to accompany it, we need a type of delicate green tea,” he shared. Hiền Minh Tea House obtains their leaves from old tea trees in Hà Giang. Every spring, the husband and wife pair relocated there to live for three months to harvest Snow Shan tea buds from trees as old as 100–300 years old.

Heritage Snow Shan trees with thick trunks.

Hùng showed me a photo he kept of a 700-year-old Snow Shan tree, and I couldn’t help but gawk at its giant trunk that’s almost too big for the hug of two people. While in Hoàng Su Phì, Hà Giang, the couple would work alongside H’Mông and Dao locals in the collection and processing of tea leaves. They often remain there until the end of spring and return to Hanoi in the summer, when the lotus flowers in their pond start to bloom.

The family's lotus pond and the many steps in the harvest.

Hiền Minh Tea owns a lotus pond spanning 2 hectares just 45 kilometers from downtown Hanoi. “We have to wake up really early at around 4–7 in the morning, when the lotus flowers are just barely open. If the sun rises too high, they will fully bloom and the scent floats away,” he recalled. “The elders call it sen hàm tiếu, meaning smiling lotus. We have to collect the flowers when they’re hàm tiếu, like a lady gently smiling, not grinning.”

How to collect “lotus rice.”

From May to August, the pair will focus on harvesting lotus blossoms; last year, they collected 50,000 flowers. “After that, we separated the flower parts: the petals on one side and the pistils on one side. Then, we pluck out the lotus ‘rice,’” Hùng detailed. “Rice” is how tea makers refer to flower anthers, the pouches containing pollen. Once both the tea leaves and lotus rice are ready, the scenting begins: one layer of tea followed by one layer of lotus rice until the jar is full. The container is left alone for 2–3 days for the lotus aroma to seep in the tea. Then, the resulting leaves are dehydrated at 60–70°C to remove the moisture, but the essential oil will stay with the leaves.

“That’s just the first scent. Once done, we do that again. Sieve out the old lotus rice and replenish with a new batch. Rinse and repeat around seven times, spanning about 21 days, before the final product is done,” Hùng said. Still, the tea doesn’t immediately get brewed, it will be kept for six months before consumption — exactly during Tết.

Only when we reached the end of the process did I realize how sophisticated the art of tea-making can be. “Now, it’s time we enjoy this tea,” Hùng announces. He scooped out a bit of dry tea leaves and let me have a whiff. A soothing fragrance filled my nostril. Hùng said the leaves were still “sleeping,” and we would “awaken” them using heat. He started using only the steam of hot water to “wake” the tea without water, because “even the first brew already takes away much of the lotus, one shouldn’t discard it. And if the tea is valuable, the first brew will already taste divine.”

Ceremonial tea is not as simple as pouring hot water into dry tea.

Hùng slowly poured the tea into tiny glasses and demonstrated to me how to lift my glass correctly. The liquid tea is translucent with a light amber tint. “We’ll heave in a deep breath, take a small sip, and hold it in our mouth for 2–3 seconds.” I followed the instructions, delighted to feel a refreshing taste instead of the expected bitterness. Hùng chuckled: “When drinking tea, people often picture trà mạn, with its tannic and bitter taste. In reality, ceremonial tea is not bitter at all. The more refined the palate, the more people prefer a lighter tea. Many Vietnamese love a lingering aftertaste. This is the key: the aftertaste must be sweet.”

The tea house's tree-filled garden.

Only until he mentioned it did it dawned on me how the taste of my tea still wasn’t gone. I had another sip, excited to get another hit of that light taste. The more I drank, the more I felt appreciative of human labor and nature’s gifts, artfully distilled into this golden liquid. Hùng started with the second brew, which resulted in a lighter-colored tea, even though the taste remained unchanged. This is also another skill to hone for tea makers: how to adjust the components so that even the tenth brew is just as good as the first.

It was exactly these morsels of aromatic tea leaves that helped Hùng and Yến win the top prize at the Tea Masters Cup competition in 2016. The top honor also gave Hùng the opportunity to go to China to learn more about tea, and participated in a bigger competition. When in China, Hùng discovered that even in the birthplace of tea, there were no tea trees as old and rare as those in Vietnam. This knowledge compelled him to pursue this path to help elevate Vietnam’s tea scene.

Even though I don’t usually drink much tea, the experience at Hiền Minh truly opened my eyes. As it turns out, Vietnam has many rare tea trees that are hundreds of years old and the level of artistry that goes into the making of a seemingly simple glass of tea is astounding. To take a sip is not just to drink tea, but, as Hùng aptly put, to “drink in heaven and earth.”

Hiền Minh Tea House is open from 8am to 11pm. To attend a guided tea ceremony, guests are required to book in advance via this link.

To sum up:

Taste: 5/5
Price: 4/5
Atmosphere: 5/5
Friendliness: 5/5
Location: 5/5

Hiền Minh Tea House

13 Ngô Tất Tố, Văn Miếu Ward, Đống Đa District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Linh Phạm. Photos by Alberto Prieto.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Sun, 21 May 2023 09:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: In a 95-Year-Old House, Mết Coffee Sells Drinks, Cozy Conversations https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26220-ngõ-nooks-in-a-95-year-old-house,-mết-coffee-sells-drinks,-cozy-conversations https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26220-ngõ-nooks-in-a-95-year-old-house,-mết-coffee-sells-drinks,-cozy-conversations

It was a drizzly day. The chilliness and the weepy mood of Hanoi weather drenched me in an unnamed melancholy. I was ambling aimlessly on the street when I came across Mết, a coffee shop in ngõ Yên Thế, just a stone’s throw from the Temple of Literature.

How poetic it would be to sip on a warm cup of joe in the middle of the rainy morning while people-watching, I thought to myself. After finding myself a seat and being greeted by the gentle manners of the barista here, I suddenly felt that this weather might not be too depressing after all.

During my chat with the owner and co-founder of Mết, Nguyễn Đình Hưng, I was informed that the cafe actually has seven “parents.” They became friends via an organization while in college, and decided to open the cafe as somewhere to gather and keep in touch even after graduation. It eventually became a place for many patrons to have heart-to-heart chats and for other friend groups to bond.

Thanks to the founding principle, the interior layout of Mết is also designed in a way to promote cozy seating arrangements, like how kids huddle over a board game. The coffee shop has three floors, decked out in an earthy yellow color scheme. Those who arrive in groups may choose the sofas or the balconies on the upper floors. If you’re here alone, like I was, I wholeheartedly suggest the bar seats on the ground floor. Much of the cafe’s furniture is hand-me-downs received from acquaintances and friends of the founders.

Mết strives to deliver a warm atmosphere to make guests as comfortable as they are in their own homes, so using secondhand items is a set goal in hopes of evoking coziness. The most striking feature about the house is its history: it was built in 1928, and the majority of the features, from the staircase, wooden floor, walls to columns, were kept as is by the founders, retaining the original French style. The ambiance is also pleasant as each patron can escape into their own corner. You can laugh over intimate inside jokes only close friends know or reminisce about past memories like kids whispering during a primary-school lesson. The music volume is also kept minimal so as not to drown out conversations.

Guests at Mết who are by themselves can always strike up a conversation with the barista like two new friends. There’s no shortage of stories here so don’t be afraid to open up. The coffee shop doesn’t just sell beverages, but also conversations. I was also told that there are blankets and pillows available for those days during Hanoi’s frigid winters or the rainy showers of autumn. A hairdryer is provided should guests feel the need to fix up their hairdo during humid nồm days.

The drink menu was curated by the founders, each item spotting a whimsical name with a story behind its creation. One of my favorites is “Nice to Mết you,” a coffee drink with salty macchiato cream. A recent invention is “Ô mai god,” an artichoke tea with a dash of salted plum. The contrast between the gentle herbal tea and the sharp zing of the plum might inspire you to utter “Ô mai god!”

The most populous metropolis in northern Vietnam, Hanoi can ironically make us feel quite lonely amidst the many social connections we have. On one of those days when you need some moments of introspection or conversations with a stranger, give Mết a try.

Mết Coffee & Drinks is open from 10am to 12am.

To sum up:

Taste: 4/5
Price: 4/5
Atmosphere: 5/5
Friendliness: 5/5
Location: 4/5

Mết Coffee & Drinks

14 Ngõ Yên Thế, Văn Miếu Ward, Đống Đa District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Lê Vy. Photos by Léo-Paul Guyot.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Tue, 11 Apr 2023 16:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: Hanoi's Phố Vũ Thạnh Offers a Nice Egg in This Trying Time https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26197-ngõ-nooks-hanoi-s-phố-vũ-thạnh-offers-a-nice-egg-in-this-trying-time https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26197-ngõ-nooks-hanoi-s-phố-vũ-thạnh-offers-a-nice-egg-in-this-trying-time

“Is there any food we can eat for breakfast, afternoon snack and supper?”

While we’re sitting together, my friend blurts out this seemingly random question. This sparks a boisterous discussion among us. Everyone agrees that such a dish must be able to satisfy these criteria: easy to eat, easy to find, just enough to quell our peckish stomach, but can’t be too filling. On my part, my nomination goes to trứng vịt lộn.

Indeed, one can find a vịt lộn stall anywhere at any time across the nooks and ngõ of Hanoi. Still, because of this omnipresence, it usually doesn’t matter much which stall you pick, especially when you’re just there for a quick snack. I used to think this, until I visited this special vịt lộn eatery on Vũ Thạnh Street.

Adjacent to a small house opposite a huge tenement, chị Gấm’s vịt lộn place is quite tiny at approximately three square meters, just barely enough to set up a small stove, pots, and accouterments. The entire stall has one plastic table, the rest are plastic stools. “If you come in a group, you get the table, but if you’re alone, just a plastic stool is enough to put things on,” Gấm chuckles when she sees that we’re confused by her setting.

“We’ve been selling eggs for 24 years. This stall might even be older than y’all,” she tells me while preparing for business hours. “We” here refers to two sisters: Gấm is in charge of the stall from the late afternoon until 1am, and then chị Nhâm, her sister, takes over. “It was common back then for our parents to come up with flowery names like that. My dad is Điền, and my brothers are Thiện and Chiến. My mom is Xuân. So we have Điền, Thiện, Chiến, Xuân, Nhâm, and Gấm.”

She explains the rhythmic names of the family while swiftly handling the freshly boiled duck eggs in the steaming pot of water. According to Gấm’s advice, you should eat your first egg the traditional way. Unlike in Saigon where trứng vịt lộn are perched on tiny short glasses, in the north, duck eggs are cracked and put into a small bowl. Only one egg is cracked and then eaten at any point in time because they must be enjoyed hot. A sprinkle of salt, chili, rau răm, and julienned ginger add in a touch of sourness, heat, saltiness and sweetness to complete this rustic sidewalk snack.

I am particularly fascinated by the boiled egg white of trứng vịt lộn here — what I refer to as “cùi dừa” (coconut core). The white core here is especially more tender than at other stalls I’ve been to. I usually discard this tough bit, but this is the first time I polish off every part of the egg. At my raving review, chị Gấm gushes that her trứng vịt lộn are all young eggs that she completely sells off during the day, so everything is fresh. “Not just the eggs, every garnish is also new and green,” she explains while preparing our second course: trứng vịt lộn braised with ngải cứu (mugwort).

Compared to the traditional way, this braised egg is easier to enjoy because of how balanced the elements are: the warmth of the mugwort and the “coolness” of the vịt lộn. The umami of the egg is lifted up by the light bitterness of the young mugwort — the perfect harmony that Vietnamese gastronomic rules refer to as the yin and yang of food.

Not stopping with the baluts, we order for ourselves a mugwort omelet and bánh giò too, because one should try as many dishes as possible. Each dish starts with our unbridled anticipation and ends with hums of contentment as our tiny little spoons finish off the food. The omelet is golden brown outside but moist inside while our bánh giò is silky smooth without being mushy.

If you ask me why these seemingly unrelated items are the stars of the menu at a vịt lộn place, my answer is their freshness and incredible texture, be it the bánh giò or vịt lộn. They are also amazingly affordable at just VND8,000–15,000 per dish per person. That, along with the bright demeanor and crackling laughter of chị Gấm while talking about her craft, is the standout quality of this stall. All of it has convinced me to leave behind my belief that “we can just go anywhere for vịt lộn” and make frequent return trips here as a regular, be it for breakfast, an afternoon snack, or supper.

Hàng trứng Lê Gấm is open all day.

To sum up:

Taste: 4.5/5
Price: 5/5
Atmosphere: 4/5
Friendliness: 5/5
Location: 4/5

Hàng trứng Lê Gấm

41 Vũ Thạnh, Chợ Dừa, Đống Đa District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Đồng Thanh Thủy. Photos by Linh Phạm.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Tue, 04 Apr 2023 16:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: Xóm Hạ Hồi's 30-Year-Old Bún Thang Stands the Test of Time https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/22233-ngõ-nooks-traditional-bún-thang-served-with-a-crunchy-twist https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/22233-ngõ-nooks-traditional-bún-thang-served-with-a-crunchy-twist

If you peel through the peaceful residential areas around the Quang Trung and Trần Hưng Đạo crossroads, you might just chance upon Bún Thang 11 Hạ Hồi, a humble, household noodle spot.

Bún thang is a signature Hanoi dish. In the past, it was cooked at home during Tết holiday — although only a small number of families still prepare the meal for the occasion today. The feast is an assembly of boiled chicken, thinly sliced egg, giò lụa (Vietnamese sausage), and shreds of dried white radish. It’s then garnished with spring onions and Vietnamese coriander (rau răm), and drenched in a hot chicken broth that’s infused with nấm hương (dried shiitake mushrooms) and mắm tôm (shrimp paste).

Bún thang and the stall's special pickled radish.

A standard bowl of phở gà with shredded chicken.

Nowadays, the dish has transcended Tết exclusivity to become a staple food in Hanoi. I was first introduced to bún thang at a sidewalk shop in the Old Quarter over 10 years ago. But these days, despite the burgeoning number of eateries offering this treat, only a few can satisfy my desire for a perfectly rounded noodle hit.

Bún thang might have its start as a traditional Tết dish, but now one can find the noodles served at many stores across town.

At the end of one of a ngõ that splits from Xóm Hạ Hồi Street, you’ll find the house of Nhung — a friendly, cheerful lady who opened this spot way back in 1993. A bowl of bún thang here has all the ingredients that other shops provide, yet with the addition of a superior broth. But what keeps me coming back for more are the sticks of dried radish she adds. These little cylinders are extra crunchy, extra sweet and extra fun to eat compared to the tangled radish threads offered elsewhere.

Nhung has been serving bún thang here since 1993.

According to Nhung, her family used to dry the radish themselves, but nowadays they get it from Hải Dương Province. There was a short period when she used the more conventional tangled radish, but she swiftly changed back to the sticks for their inimitable bite — and her customers wouldn’t have it any other way.

Bún bò Nam Bộ is also available here if you don't feel like having bún thang.

Thuy, a relative of Nhung, now manages the shop and said that, though bún thang is their principal dish, they also added phở gà, phở bò and bún bò Nam Bộ to the menu to meet local demand. The shop is most busy around lunch when office workers in the area flock here for a scorching hot bowl. On the weekend, families and guests from across Hanoi stop by for a taste — it’s weekday mornings when one is most likely to enjoy a more leisurely banquet without a crowd.

Bún Thang 11 Hạ Hồi is open from 6:30am to 1:30pm. Find them at 11 Xóm Hạ Hồi.

This article was first published in 2018 on Urbanist Hanoi.

To sum up:

Taste: 4/5
Price: 5/5
Atmosphere: 5/5
Friendliness: 5/5
Location: 4/5

Hà Tạ absolutely loves food and dreams of selling noodles. 

Bún Thang

11 Xóm Hạ Hồi, Hoàn Kiếm District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Hà Tạ. Photos by Long Nguyễn.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Thu, 23 Mar 2023 12:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: Căng Tin Cafe, a Gateway to the Past for the City's New Youth https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/24047-ngõ-nooks-a-gateway-to-the-past-for-the-city-s-new-youth https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/24047-ngõ-nooks-a-gateway-to-the-past-for-the-city-s-new-youth

Hanoi’s café scene is saturated with cafés selling a vision of the past.

Spend a few minutes inside one of the 30 Cộng Caphes spread across the city and this fact becomes abundantly clear. And that’s without even setting foot inside any imitation copycats. Yet if you’re looking to indulge in something other than branded, cookie-cutter nostalgia, Căng Tin 109 remains a decent option.

The humble entrance to Căng Tin.

Nestled in the alleyways between Xã Đàn Street and Ba Mẫu Lake in Đống Đa District, an afternoon spent at Căng Tin (which translates to "canteen") feels like an altogether more authentic experience than you’re likely to find in a multinational chain.

Forget seeing chipped metal camping mugs in every location. Thanks to décor that includes old-school wooden tables and chairs, somewhat dilapidated walls, paintings of fish, some Vietnamese flags, framed pencil drawings and flowers, Căng Tin feels like you’re sitting in a Vietnamese grandmother’s house. It all feels a bit hodgepodge without being tacky or garish, which equates to coziness in my book.

The yellow walls evoke a sense of retro homeyness.

The communal bookcase, filled with worn Vietnamese-language novels and non-fiction books available to borrow, is a nice touch too. The premises stretch across two buildings separated by mere meters across the alleyway, which is a visual delight in itself.

While the café is aiming for an old-school aesthetic, its clientele is decidedly new-school. Don’t be surprised to see any number of hip university students hanging out and sipping tea while plucking the guitar and looking effortlessly cool.

A cozy place to hang out with friends.

Not to worry though, as — unlike their equivalents elsewhere — Hanoi’s cool kids are approachable and friendly, so much so that the 20-somethings working here are more than happy to answer questions about the café’s history and surroundings.

A young Hanoian named Hằng opened Căng Tin about nine years ago. She offered cheap drinks in an environment filled with nostalgia — for an era almost no one inside is old enough to remember.

Drinks at Căng Tin are average, but affordable.

Between the two buildings are a few trees and a stone featuring carved Chinese characters telling you to dismount your horse. Best to leave it at home anyway, it won’t fit through the alleyways.

Not too far from the café itself, towards Xã Đàn Street, lies the area’s main architectural gem — a large gateway covered in more Mandarin that marks the entrance to what was once Kim Liên Village. It is through this structure and the buzzing hive of traffic and street activity around it that one tends to pass on the way to Căng Tin.

Căng Tin 109 opens from 8am to 10pm.

As for the drinks, I was told the kumquat tea is a specialty. I went for my old reliable order of passion fruit juice, which was refreshing and not too clogged with pulp and seeds. And with no less than 14 different types available — from your standard Lipton to healthier ginger or orange and peach — tea lovers will be at home here.

While the name may translate as canteen, Căng Tin is altogether more cozy than anywhere you may have had school lunch. If anything, the space is akin to your grandmother’s front room, except this time she also invited her 10 coolest grandchildren to hang out as well.

Căng Tin 109 opens from 8am to 10pm. Find them at 31 Ngõ 198 Xã Đàn, Đống Đa, Hanoi. 

This article was first published in 2019 on Urbanist Hanoi. 

To sum up:

Taste: 4/5
Price: 5/5
Atmosphere: 4/5
Friendliness: 4/5
Location: 5/5 

Căng Tin 109

31 Ngõ 198 Xã Đàn, Đống Đa, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Peter Cowan. Photos by Chris Humphrey.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Tue, 21 Mar 2023 11:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: Blue Crab and Beer for a Bodacious Snack on the Hanoi Sidewalk https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26175-ngõ-nooks-blue-crab-and-beer-for-a-bodacious-snack-on-the-hanoi-sidewalk https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26175-ngõ-nooks-blue-crab-and-beer-for-a-bodacious-snack-on-the-hanoi-sidewalk

Of all seafood in Vietnam, ghẹ (blue crab) is among the most expensive. Even at wholesale markets, these crustaceans can fetch from VND300,000 to 400,000 a kilogram and any buffet deal that boasts their presence naturally comes with an exorbitant price tag. It was a personal surprise for me to find this highly sought-after delicacy right on the pavement at Quán Ghẹ Cô Tươi.

Labeling cô Tươi’s enterprise a “quán” might be an exaggeration, as her “quán” merely consists of a handful of low plastic stools and a bamboo wicker tray that doubles as both a crab display and the lid for her boiling pot. “These crabs are from Nam Định,” Tươi explains to me. “My hometown is there.” A beaming smile never leaves her face as she talks to me, her hands nimbly dropping one ghẹ after another into the vat. Someone asks her if she was named after her sunny disposition (Tươi means vibrant or fresh in Vietnamese), but she doesn’t answer and just laughs heartily.

With such a fitting name, cô Tươi was born to sell seafood.

When I press her for her secret tips behind the delicious ghẹ, Tươi denies any complex tricks: “I only boiled them with tap water. But the main thing is that the crabs must be fresh. And you have to eat them while they’re still hot, they turn funky when cold.” Then, she opens the pot and fishes out several crabs, freshly boiled and hot to the touch. Using a pair of scissors and a shell cracker, she swiftly snips the legs, dismantles the claws, and spreads them out on the plate in front of me. I inquire if Tươi has any advice for how to deshell them most efficiently, she points to the joints and begins to fork out the meat at lightning speed, so much so that I only manage to tell her to let me try with the last lonesome leg.

A steaming crab is indeed a winning crab. Each morsel of crab meat is tender and flavorful. A dip in the sweet-and-sour fish sauce, followed by a sip of chilled beer. What an unbridled joy. I can’t stop showering Tươi with praises as I demolish my blue crab. She giggles proudly. “Any crab I get that’s not up to par, I resell to buffet restaurants. I only boil the best crabs for my quán.”

Only the cream of the (crab) crop makes its way to Tươi’s pot.

As I am munching away the bits of fresh ghẹ left, a man arrives in front of us on his bike with a plastic bag filled with four or five fresh blue crabs. “You see,” she shows me the inside of the crab bag. “Look how fresh they are.” At the end of the sentence, she pierces the crab with her scissor blades right at the nerve center between its eyes and drops it into the boiling water. I have never consumed any seafood this fresh — from when the crab is still alive until it’s in the water takes only a few seconds.

Quán Ghẹ Cô Tươi only has a pot, a few plastic stools, and live crabs.

When I ask if she has any other locations in town, she shakes her head, saying that it’s impossible because the supply is extremely limited: “Nowadays, blue crabs are very rare. I know so because my family is in the trade. No matter how high a price you’re willing to pay, we don’t have enough crabs to sell to you.” Depending on their sizes, Tươi will charge VND100,000–200,000 per crab. Most patrons here will order one and then finish their meal with a bowl of bún from the stall next door — a perfectly “fancy” pavement feast.

Cô Tươi’s humble eatery is located at the end of Cầu Đông Street, a small lane right next to Đồng Xuân Market. Looking down the lane from the market front, one might think that this is just a makeshift parking lot for the market. At such a rustic location, Quán Ghẹ Cô Tươi is indeed a hidden gem in Hanoi waiting to be discovered by hawk-eyed foodies.

Quán Ghẹ Bà Tươi is open from 10am to 6pm.

To sum up:

Taste: 5/5
Price: 4/5
Atmosphere: 4/5 — If you like to people-watch, this would be a 10/5.
Friendliness: 5/5
Location: 4/5 

Quán Ghẹ Hấp Bà Tươi

1 Cầu Đông, Đồng Xuân, Hoàn Kiếm District, Hanoi.

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info@saigoneer.com (Linh Phạm. Photos by Alberto Prieto.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Mon, 20 Mar 2023 11:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: A Blissful Fish Feast at Bún Cá Sâm Cây Si https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/21411-hẻm-gems-a-blissful-fish-feast-at-bun-ca-sam-cay-si https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/21411-hẻm-gems-a-blissful-fish-feast-at-bun-ca-sam-cay-si

As hot as it gets, Hanoi’s scorching summer is no match for delightful fish rolls and refreshing sour soup.

As a Vietnamese, there are a few moments that define my eating life: the first pungent bite of chả cá Lã Vọng, a bánh cuốn soaked in lime and spicy fish sauce, a broiling bowl of quail eggs and bánh canh in the central highlands. Sâm Cây Si’s slick, indulging nem cá, or fish spring rolls, is one of those.

The unique nugget of nem cá at Sâm Cây Si.

To dissect the delight: there’s chopped pork, wood-ear mushrooms and fried shallot as stuffing, a thin-cut perch fillet as the wrap, then it’s all deep fried until crunchy and bouncy as a cheese stick. Sour and spicy fish sauce to dip in is a must. To end on a high note, take a sip of trà đá to remedy the greasiness.

Just a casual bún place right outside a local shrine.

Then comes bún cá — a hot bowl of fish noodles. In the hierarchy of Vietnamese noodles, bún cá is not elite compared to phở, bún chả, or bún bò Huế, yet it is no less delectable. Sâm Cây Si’s bún cá is all about blissful crustiness: deep-fried fillet, hollow stems of water dropwort (rau cần) and on top, a fresh slice of pineapple. The broth has ample umami flavor from the fish stock, is aromatic thanks to fresh dill, and sour after adding tomatoes.

Bún Cá Sâm Cây Si has virtually no shop space, so if eating en plein air is your thing, you'll love it here.

Yet the refreshing feeling of consuming Sâm Cây Si’s bún cá doesn’t come entirely from the soup itself. Apart from neighboring tiny temple and a weeping fig (cây si in Vietnamese, which has become part of the name for the stall), this bún cá shop also blocks the alley and the way into an entire market, which makes sitting on one of its tiny stools even more exhilarating. The whole setting is intimate: strangers sitting shoulder-to-shoulder facing fruit vendors only a few hundred centimeters from passing motorbikes.

Ngõ Trung Yên is a busy food oasis for Hanoi's foodies.

Sâm has been selling bún cá for over ten years with the help of a team of daughters and sons-in-law. Though it's undoubtedly hectic, the team are not another of Bourdain’s "cussing noodles." As humble as it gets, bún cá and fish rolls at Sâm Cây Si are the utmost delights one could hope for on upcoming scorching summer days.

Bún Cá Sâm Cây Si is open from 7am to 5pm.

This article was first published on Urbanist Hanoi in 2018.

To sum up:

Taste: 5/5
Price: 5/5
Atmosphere: 4/5
Friendliness: 5/5
Location: 3/5

Trang Bùi is addicted to shrimp paste and gets kicked out of 50% of street food restaurants.

Bún Cá Sâm Cây Si

5 Ngõ Trung Yên, Hoàn Kiếm District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Trang Bùi. Photos by Trang Bùi.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Tue, 14 Mar 2023 10:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: Cozy up at Ẩn Cà Phê With Morning Coffees and Night Cocktails https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26159-ngõ-nooks-cozy-up-at-ẩn-cà-phê-with-morning-coffees-and-night-cocktails https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/26159-ngõ-nooks-cozy-up-at-ẩn-cà-phê-with-morning-coffees-and-night-cocktails

In the Mood for Love, Wong Kar-wai’s elegantly restrained movie about married lovers resisting adultery, offers up a delicious cocktail of emotions. At least, that is the concept behind the drinks menu at Ẩn Cà phê, a coffee and cocktail bar southwest of Tây Hồ.

“Inspirations come from small things around me,” says Hiền, a self-confessed introvert and art lover who founded the bar in 2021. “Like my favorite director Wong Kar-wai and his movies. His masterpiece, In the Mood for Love, inspired me to create a cocktail menu featuring five signature drinks: Love (Yêu), Affection (Thương), Longing (Mong), Hatred (Ghét) — which are the four emotions when you love somebody. And Deja Vu, a unique, exclusive drink to Ẩn, is about the taste of returning memories and the feeling of the past that resonates with Ẩn’s space.”

The counter at Ẩn.

It’s not just Ẩn’s cocktails that evoke Wong Kar-wai’s masterpiece, however. Even the name and location allude to the movie’s secret meeting places — intimate alleys and rooms that heighten the characters’ repressed desires.

This intimacy makes Ẩn a calming space during the day. The plants, shade, and quiet complement the simple coffee menu, and it would be easy to spend hours working at a private table while admiring the serene backdrop.

Simple but elegant decor gives the interior a certain charm.

When night hits and the cocktail menu comes out, Ẩn transforms into a moody “hideaway” that draws you inside. Faint table lamps pierce the darkness as headlights slip through the plants, casting moving, refracted shadows over the garden. A shrine glows red in a dark corner beside the bar, and all the roaring chaos of the city melts away like a half-remembered dream.

At night, Ẩn Cà Phê turns into a cozy cocktail bar.

The further into Ẩn you go, the more nooks you find, and the more you feel tucked away in an alcove within a hideout within a maze of secluded alleyways.

Hiền talks of Ẩn being “beautiful under the rain” like a hidden garden and of being able to arrange special seats for you when you come in alone. She knows how to set a tone and succeeds in making this space — so subtly crafted in her own image — feel like it was made just for you.

There are secluded corners for groups wanting to spend time away from the crowds.

“When I first opened the bar, I wanted it to be a part of myself,” says Hiền. “From the location (in an alley) to the name Ẩn, which means 'hiding.' My message is: Our comfy hideaway is for us to meet, come and play.”

Hiền’s entreaty to come and play is important because, despite its reserved atmosphere, Ẩn is not only for people seeking solitude. I sat in the garden with a small group of friends, and we had great fun sharing a variety of cocktails between us.

Ẩn in the morning.

Each signature drink goes down as easily as its corresponding emotion suggests, with a strong emphasis on texture and presentation. With the possible exception of Hatred, which is as thick and dark as its namesake, the drinks are light enough for people to try several in one sitting. There is also a list of classic cocktails with more kick than those on the specials menu.

As my friends and I talked into the night, I realized that Hiền’s cocktails had worked as intended. The signature drinks encouraged us to share stories and opinions on their correlating emotions, rekindling old feelings and memories in a space that felt like our own private hideaway. We might not have been in the mood for love, but we loved the mood, and we left Ẩn a little closer and a lot merrier than we’d entered it.

Ẩn Cà Phê serves coffee from 8am to 6pm and cocktails from 6pm to 12am.

To sum up:

Taste: 4/5
Price: 4/5
Atmosphere: 4.5/5
Friendliness: 4/5
Location: 4.5/5

Oliver describes bún chả as “wet burgers” and burgers as “dry bún chả.”

Ẩn Cà Phê

46 Võng Thị, Tây Hồ District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Oliver Newman. Photos by Alberto Prieto.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Fri, 10 Mar 2023 11:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: Okachan Shokudo, a Comforting Japanese ‘Cơm Bình Dân’ in Hanoi https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/25984-ngõ-nooks-okachan-shokudo,-a-comforting-japanese-‘cơm-bình-dân’-in-hanoi https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/25984-ngõ-nooks-okachan-shokudo,-a-comforting-japanese-‘cơm-bình-dân’-in-hanoi

If there is a restaurant that is the antithesis of the biting cold of Hanoi, it is Okachan Shokudo.

The interior of Okachan Shokudo is cozy with yellow light.

I came here on an evening in December, and the first order of business was to take off the many layers of winter clothing. The cozy place with its amber light and yellow furniture seemed to radiate warmth. There was space just enough for five tables, and the hulking presence of Oka-chan made the room feel even snugger.

Oka-chan is as warm and friendly as his smile.

Takumi Okazaki, or Oka-chan, was twice my size, so he can seem a little intimidating at first. But when he smiled, he turned into a fluffy teddy bear; and he did smile, a lot. He speaks little English or Vietnamese, and I speak no Japanese at all, so communication between us was difficult. However, I did gather that he had learned to cook at a restaurant in Tokyo for 10 years before he came to Hanoi and opened this shokudo, or eatery, in 2016.

When thinking of Japanese food, my uninitiated mind always goes directly to sushi, which this shokudo doesn’t serve at all. Oka-chan told me that sushi is like a fancy dish that people eat in upscale restaurants. “Here is like cơm bình dân,” he said. Okachan Shokudo offers home-cooked Japanese meals with fresh seasonal ingredients.

Oka-chan honed his craft at a Tokyo restaurant for 10 years.

“So what is a good dish for a winter night like this?” I asked. “Nabe,” he responded with no hesitation. “Sake kasu nabe.”

Nabe means hotpot, while sake kasu is a cooking ingredient made from the residual yeast left over in sake production. I came here with a party of four, so a hotpot seemed ideal. I also liked the idea of getting a buzz from a hotpot, but Oka-chan broke that dream when he informed me that there was no alcohol in sake kasu. However, he did recommend a sake, out of the 50 brands that they carried, that was ideal when served hot, perfect for a cold night. 

Kampai!

When the nabe came out, we saw that, unlike its Vietnamese counterpart, all the ingredients were already in the pot. It smelled amazing, but we had to wait for the pot to boil. The wait made us kinda hangry, so our eyes got bigger than our stomachs, and we ended up ordering the set menu, which had seven courses that are changed weekly.

The nabe with silky tofu blocks.

The pot started boiling even before the first course came out. One taste and we were sold. The broth was so rich with umami; it warmed us from the inside out. My wife called it the best hotpot she had ever had in Hanoi, which was quite high praise since she loves hotpot. The beef was tender, the mushroom flavorful. And though I am a meat lover at heart, the real star of the hotpot, in my opinion, was the tofu. Never before had I eaten such silky-soft tofu. I was told that the Japanese are quite proud of their tofu.

Our platter of appetizers.

While we were slurping away at the hotpot, the first course arrived. It was an appetizer with four dishes: cheese on a cracker, cold noodles, raw squid, and mantis shrimp. Next came a salad with the same tofu that I loved. As we were happily eating, a waitress came to our table. “Excuse me,” she said, “the next dish on the set menu is raw beef liver. Are you able to eat that or would you like to change to something else?”

Some items on the set.

We looked at each other. Did she really just say "raw liver"? In any other setting, the answer would have been a no. But this was Oka-chan. We trusted him and we loved everything so far, so why not give it a try? The waitress returned with a small plate and four pieces of liver, and I enjoyed it way more than I thought I would. It was fresh and tasted better than most sashimi I had eaten.

Nothing is as perfect for the Hanoi winter as hotpots.

Periodically, Oka-chan came to our table to check how we were doing. And every time we just looked up, said "Oishi!" with full mouths, then went back to our bowls. Oka-chan would then smile happily and go to other customers. The eatery was getting full, too. Aside from us, all other guests were Japanese, who looked like they came straight from the office to find comfort food.

Turning the leftover broth into a porridge.

At this point, we all but finished with the hotpot. Oka-chan took the pot away, only to return it later filled with porridge. Instead of eating the leftover broth with noodles, the Japanese put in rice to soak up all that flavor, which I thought was such a smart way to end a hotpot.

"Hmm what should we get?"

I was getting so full, but could not stop eating. And yet more food came: juicy fried chicken, savory fish soup, steamy rice and miso soup, and a piece of mango for dessert. It was a struggle, but we did manage to eat everything. It would have been a great crime to waste such delicious food.

Once a sake bottle is finished, its label ends up here.

The set menu was priced at VND500,000 per person, which was way more expensive than a typical cơm bình dân. But the quality and freshness of the food made it more than worth it. We left the place full and happy, knowing full well that we would come back, just to see what surprises Oka-chan had in store next time.

It's really easy to miss Okachan Shokudo's humble signage.

Okachan Shokudo is open from 11:30am to 1:30pm and 6pm to 10pm every day except Sunday.

To sum up:

Taste: 5/5
Price: 4/5
Atmosphere: 5/5
Friendliness: 5/5
Location: 5/5 — The place is kinda hidden. When you enter alley 20A off of Núi Trúc Street, look for the place on your right. The wooden sign may be easily missed, but you’ll see soft yellow light coming from within.

Okachan Shokudo / 岡ちゃん食堂

Ngõ 20A, Núi Trúc Street, Giảng Võ Ward, Ba Đình District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Linh Phạm. Photos by Linh Phạm. Graphic by Tiên Nguyễn.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Sat, 17 Dec 2022 11:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: The 'Tiny' Cafe That Contains Multitudes https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/24878-ngõ-nooks-the-tiny-cafe-that-contains-multitudes https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/24878-ngõ-nooks-the-tiny-cafe-that-contains-multitudes

Hidden down a quiet alley opposite the B-52 Victory Museum on Đội Cấn in Ba Đình District is the gateway to Tiny Cafe. Make sure you look carefully, as the sign is easily missed, and this isn’t somewhere you’ll want to miss out on.

Even once you have made it through the gateway, you might question yourself. The yard, with motorbikes, push bikes and tweeting birds aplenty, lies underneath a nhà sàn. Further beyond, you will spot a gap in the wall and an open door to welcome you to the bar area. Here, friendly staff gather in the homey surroundings.

Let’s be clear: this cafe isn’t as tiny as the name suggests; there are different rooms to choose from, so once you have ordered, you’ll have a decision to make. As there are two halves, make sure you check out both areas, each with a different ambiance of calm.

If you are looking for somewhere full of curiosities, then I suggest the space within the main building. A scattering of tables lay tucked in the high-ceiling room that features a variety of quirky knick-knacks including two huge vintage speakers, a trumpet perched atop an amp, a chandelier created from a boat’s steering wheel, and the books. So many books! Shelves and shelves and even a separate room full of dusty volumes are waiting for you to leaf through. Those crumbling yellow walls that Vietnam is famous for act as a backdrop to the densely decorated room, and the exposed brick flooring and wooden furniture maintain a sense of tradition in keeping with the vintage treasures.

Venturing back into the yard, a flight of stairs will take you up into the nhà sàn. This bare-wood building houses the second main room of the cafe, and the vibe in here is completely different. Of course, there are more books, but the room seems minimal in comparison to the other, albeit still offering plenty of historic art works and handicrafts. Textiles, tools and decorations from ethnic minorities hang from the walls and a gentle breeze blows through the window. The tree leaves rustle as you sip your coffee.

And what of the drinks? Tiny Cafe’s menu is broad, offering tempting ice blends such as refreshing coconut and mango, or delicious apple and caramel smoothies. Traditional Vietnamese and Chinese milk coffees are available, alongside a range of teas to suit everyone’s palate.

What’s more, you can enjoy live piano music in the stilt house every Wednesday, Friday and Sunday from 8:30pm to 10:15pm. You can’t ask for much more than soothing tunes, delicious drinks, and a tranquil setting to end a busy day in the city, and at this time of year, when the temperatures are cool, the music notes will surely dance in the breeze.

The combination of Tiny Cafe’s traditional treasures that cover each and every surface around the coffee shop and its proximity to the nearby B-52 Victory Museum will delight those intrigued by Vietnam’s history. And if history isn’t quite your cup of tea, then perhaps one of the fruity options on Tiny’s menu will be.

Tiny Cafe Đội Cấn has been open for five years. Now with nine cafes dotted around Hanoi, there is bound to be a Tiny Cafe that suits your taste. Other excellent additions include converted post offices, aptly named Tiny Post, at 11 Nguyễn Tri Phương and 77 Ngõ 67 Phùng Khoang.

You can find this Tiny Cafe at 10 Ngõ 154, Đội Cấn, Ba Đình, and it's open from 8am until 10:30pm.

To sum up:

Taste: 4/5
Price: 5/5
Atmosphere: 4/5
Friendliness: 4/5
Location: 4.5/5

If Niobe isn’t in a coffee shop, she’s probably thinking about one. She visits different cafes in search of inspiration for the one she's creating in her mind.

Tiny Cafe

10 Ngõ 154, Đội Cấn, Ba Đình

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info@saigoneer.com (Niobe Shaw. Photos by Alberto Prieto.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Sat, 19 Nov 2022 10:00:00 +0700
Ngõ Nooks: Bud'mo, a Ukrainian Welcome as Warm as a Shot of Nastoyka https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/25811-ngõ-nooks-bud-mo,-a-ukrainian-welcome-as-warm-as-a-shot-of-nastoyka https://saigoneer.com/hanoi-street-food-restaurants/25811-ngõ-nooks-bud-mo,-a-ukrainian-welcome-as-warm-as-a-shot-of-nastoyka

“O sultan, Turkish devil and damned devil’s kith and kin, secretary to Lucifer himself…You will not, you son of a bitch, make subjects of Christian sons; we've no fear of your army, by land and by sea we will battle with thee, f*** your mother.”

That would be the first thing a patron can read upon walking into Bud’mo (pronounced boot-more), a Ukrainian restaurant in Hanoi, provided that they speak the language. The lines hang next to a large painting titled 'Reply of the Zaporozhian Cossacks to the Turkish Sultan.'

'Reply of the Zaporozhian Cossacks to the Turkish Sultan' by Ilya Repin.

I do not speak Ukrainian, but luckily for me, my companion Bohdan Paketa does. When he translated it for me, I learned that not only is he from Ukraine, but Paketa was born in Zaporizhzhya, which makes him a descendant of the warriors who wrote those lines. Paketa and I went to Bud’mo to meet some friends and, more importantly, to sample some Ukrainian cuisine.

The al fresco tables at Bud'mo.

His sister Oksana Yashchenko was already waiting for us. We asked for a bigger table because we were quite a big group. The more the merrier, I thought, and the more dishes we could try as well; Bud’mo has quite a large menu.

Following Yashchenko’s recommendation, we started off with borsch, the Ukrainian signature soup. When it came I was surprised, it was just so…red. Borsch has the color of the Vietnamese tiết canh, a savory blood pudding. After just one spoonful, I was sold. It was a harmonious blend of savory and sour, with just a hint of sweetness. The beetroot, which gives it its color, was so tender it melted in my mouth. “The borsch here tastes just like my mother’s,” Paketa said.

A bright, light soup full of beetroot flavor.

Yashchenko chimed in: “Our mom would say 'you have to eat soup everyday.' She would always make something, but mostly borsch. And the best combination is this: you prepare a sandwich for yourself.” She took a piece of bread, added two thin slices of salo, or cured pork fat, and put some garlic on top. Then she took a bite of her sandwich, followed by a spoonful of borsch.

An impromptu sandwich.

I followed suit. The salo’s saltiness and the garlic’s pungent smell made for an explosion of flavor, then the borsch put out the fire. “This is really traditional Ukrainian food, with bread and salo,” Yashchenko said. Paketa also added that salo made for an excellent drinking snack, with vodka or any other alcohol.

We weren't drinking vodka but instead nastoyka, a Ukrainian spirit. The kind we had was infused with holy grass. I asked what holy grass was and Paketa quipped: “Maybe grass grown in church?” Whatever it was, I enjoyed it a whole lot. The spirit had an earthy taste and burned but did not linger.

Salo and nastoyka, or happiness on a table.

More food came. I had forgotten what I ordered but it didn’t matter because following the Vietnamese’s way, the whole table shared everything. Each dish seemed tastier than the last. Trang Hip, Paketa’s girlfriend, did my job and took pictures because I was too busy stuffing my face.

From left to right: Dumplings with meat, potato pancakes with meat, chicken shashlyk, and crepes with meat. Photos by Trang Hip.

Amidst the revelry, a waiter came in with a tray full of shots. “Oooh, welcoming drinks!” Yashchenko exclaimed. Apparently, Bud’mo usually offered drinks to large groups of patrons. We all took a glass and said “Bud’mo!” — which means “Cheers!”

The complimentary spirit was another type of nastoyka, this one infused with cranberry. A member of our table said it reminded him of the holidays because it tasted like candy liquor. I don’t like sweetness in my alcohol, but I’m not one to reject free drinks.

Bud’mo!

At the end of the night, the bill came to about VND300,000 per person. Bud’mo is a bit more expensive than other eateries in our Ngõ Nooks series, but it is definitely worth it. Just like a birthday cake, Bud’mo is better when shared. And when the beverages are on the table, remember to say the restaurant’s name and you’re well on your way to drinking like a Ukrainian.

The entrance of Bud'mo.

Bud'mo is open from 9am to 10pm.

To sum up:

Taste: 5/5
Price: 4/5
Atmosphere: 5/5
Friendliness: 5/5
Location: 4/5

Bud'mo - Ukrainian Cuisine

61 Tô Ngọc Vân, Quảng An Ward, Tây Hồ District, Hanoi

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info@saigoneer.com (Linh Phạm. Photos by Linh Phạm and Trang Hip.) Hanoi Ngõ Nooks Sun, 02 Oct 2022 11:00:00 +0700