vietnam street food

Hội An Cuisine and Where to Eat It, According to Locals | Vietnam

Lastly, I MUST mention 2 truly outstanding “Western” restaurants . . .

BEST Italian:

Good Morning Vietnam

I spent two months straight in Hội An, and visited a few times over the course of 7 months. It was enough time to get to know the ladies I was staying with, and I was delighted to find that not only were they Hội An born and bred, they are also intrepid travelers themselves, and one trained as a chef in Saigon! I simply could not have been luckier in sourcing local restaurant recommendations.

I requested restaurants that are old and highly regarded, places popular with locals, their personal favorites, and (most importantly) true Vietnamese cuisine with strong emphasis on local specialities.


BEST ONE STOP SHOP:

Mót Hội An

150 Trần Phú, Old Town

CB60AE72-2837-417E-B460-7CEFE709C76A.jpeg
ABCCF327-F80B-49E1-A33F-F6C20CBD230B.jpeg
7E4F52E7-6E7E-4B27-A6A5-40B4595B4854.jpeg

The local food at this tiny restaurant is excellent and cheap, and the place is always packed. Their menu has all of Hoi An’s greatest hits: bánh mì, cao lầu, thịt nướng, cơm gà, bánh vạc bông hồng trắng, hoành thánh chiên, and mì quảng are all on the menu; plus phờ, spring rolls, and wonton soup.

Their popularity, however, stems from the traditional Chinese medicinal drink sold here for just 12,000 dong. Sometimes called lemonade, sometimes tea, the bare bones ingredients for chanh sả (which literally translates as lemongrass lime) are lime, lemongrass, cinnamon, ginger and honey. At Mót they incorporate several additional ingredients according to an old family recipe, originally formulated to soothe digestive ailments. It’s incredibly refreshing and delicious!

This restaurant is also smack in the middle of the Old Town, the most centrally located of any on this list. If I only had one day in Hoi An, I would just come here and order one of everything!


BEST Bánh Mì:

Bánh Mì Phượng

2b Phan Chu Trinh, old town

16EE1A9B-4F72-47B5-AE86-9F2427B184D3.jpg
9030AD8F-8D45-4AEC-AB46-CEBC858D3E07.jpeg
036BAB79-EE20-464E-B8CC-3C136FDF6149.jpeg
9967E11B-67C9-45E6-9D51-AA9B46DDEFB4.jpeg

Obviously, bánh mì is an ubiquitous food that didn’t originate in Hội An. Equally obviously, it tends to be a street food rather than a restaurant food. Yet, foodies seem to agree the best bánh mi in the country comes from two shops here, this being the more famous.

The back of their bags quote the late, great Anthony Bourdain as saying: “The world’s best delicious bread brand” . . . which he obviously didn’t, being a native English speaker. I’m sure whatever he did say was positive though, because the bánh mì here is fantastic, and the scene aired on his Travel Channel show. I probably saw it and forgot it myself, years before I ever imagined coming to Vietnam.

I always order the vegetarian (chay) because it’s so damn delicious: tofu marinated in local soy sauce (Vietnamese soy sauce is sweet, yellow/brown and thick, not at all like the Japanese sort imported into the US) then lightly fried; avocado slices; peanut pâté, sautéed eggplant; a stalk or two of rocket; a leaf or two of lettuce; chili sauce; and chili jam; all on a perfect Việt baguette (crispy but not tooth-cracking like its Parisian ancestor).

Lunch here is a truly class-free society moment: jetsetters, schoolboys, street cleaners, and office ladies all queue up. They have a seating area, but sometimes the owner’s husband is the only one there, chainsmoking and people watching, so I tend to order through Grab.


ALSO THE BEST Bánh Mì:

Madam Khánh

115 Trần Cao Vân, old townish

6FCD5FA5-1A6D-4735-A734-BFC08AE3ACEE.jpeg
4D2A5C91-6AF7-48BA-BFC0-04592A074D0C.jpeg
87D28FB5-29EB-44AC-A5F3-0ACAC32F7238.jpeg
6D3E0F1F-2DE1-4AFF-A09E-6A2F3E5F856A.jpeg

Foodies are always pitting Phượng and the Madam against each other in some sort of perpetual bread battle. How dare they! They are both superb, though it appears the Madam’s daughter does the cooking these days. My personal favorite bánh mì of all time is Madam Khánh’s bánh mì trứng chiên. Pâté, slightly runny fried eggs, chili sauce and cucumber (on another great baguette) make this a breakfast favorite. I love it with their fresh blueberry juice.

The vibes in the seating area are way less hectic than at Phượng’s; it’s farther away from the tourist area, so there are more motorbike pickups than seated customers. Around 1pm is nap time and the lights go out, but you are welcome to sleep sitting up across two chairs with the fam if you need more time to digest.


DON’T BOTHER:

Bale Well

45 Ngõ 51 Trần Hưng Đạo, old townish

EF6206DF-8906-432B-B299-F2FA46992759.jpeg
EE12D519-41CD-48A4-96CF-7D42E0959936.jpg
A19C903B-237E-4525-A843-F2109A645439.jpeg

Every other restaurant on this street is called Bá Lễ Well something or other, referring to the ancient well behind Bá Lễ’s house. Though there are 80+ wells in Hội An, this particular well is famous for a few reasons. First, it is truly ancient, constructed by the Champa in the 10th century. Also, it’s never run dry, and so has been the go-to well for locals, soldiers and sailors for hundreds of years; when you drink a cup of well water, you are presumably tasting a bit of history. Lastly, it’s mineral richness (particularly aluminum) gives the water a slightly sweet taste that is considered the make or break ingredient for the local specialty, cao lầu.

Bá Lễ is 90 odd years old, but still kicking around and locally famous. He maintains the well and that’s why it’s named after him. Another local elder, Nguyễn Dương, has delivered the well water to local restaurants and households since 1975, so people my age grew up on this well water. I’ve had tasteless cao lầu and very tasty cao lầu, and now I wonder if the well water really did make the difference!

IMG_7286.jpeg
D1565A66-D6B5-4C2E-A7DE-5981C7287D4D.jpeg

At any rate, this particular restaurant is not known for its cao lầu, but for the local styles of bánh xèo and thịt nướng. Both are foods that are served nationally, but with distinct regional differences, so these are the central coast versions. I believe this place is popular because they have a set menu with displayed prices, provide all the sauce and veggie extras, and demonstrate to foreigners how to assemble the rolls properly. It was honestly nothing to write home about. I’ve had better bánh xèo from street vendors and found the thịt nướng slightly revolting, but that could be because I’m already not a pork person, and this I would barely call pork, it was more like strips of burnt pork fat.

For reference, bánh xèo are fermented rice pancakes colored yellow with turmeric. The Hội An version is relatively small; you get 3-4 pancakes where in Saigon you’d have the same amount of food in one giant pancake. The fillings also vary regionally and by taste; here there’s typically a lot of bean sprouts, a small square of bacon and a whole (shell, legs, and tail still on) grilled shrimp in each pancake. You can eat it as is, or open it up and pile on fresh and pickled veggies (usually lettuce, mint, cabbage, papaya, carrots, cassava, cucumbers), chili jam, fish sauce, mint, even peanuts, and re-roll in rice paper. Bale Well didn’t include the bacon, so despite all the fresh veg it was relatively bland, lacking the salty/sweet contrast of its competitors. It was also a bit spongy inside, not fried crispy at all, which again takes something away from the best versions of bánh xèo I’ve had.

Thịt nướng just means pork meat, and refers to grilled fatty pork. It’s assembled in much the same way, rolled in lettuce leaves and rice paper wrappers, having been dressed with veg and sauce. It’s the sibling of bún thịt nướng, which is the same thing over white rice vermicelli-like noodles, and the cousin of bún chả, the Hanoian iteration with minced pork meatballs and a soup base. Just the smell of this on people can make me feel nauseous, so for me it was a YOLO fail. Your mileage may vary!


BEST Bánh Xèo & Thịt Nướng:

Sông Hoài

An Hội island

AF64DB37-F4F0-453D-ABAF-D1F8BB315CE4.jpeg
98BE351C-A9BA-4170-B1E8-1FD9C5C15DED.jpeg
34911E4E-6224-4410-BEF5-6BC6BC2C1FC9.jpeg
3F7CF4B9-6141-4D6E-9FF4-0DC6D2169941.jpeg
B5EFAACD-B9C9-4229-BE03-36AB74DA2161.jpeg

There are only four items on the menu here; all dishes are 35,000 dong and all are meant to be shared. I found the bánh xèo and thịt nướng here to be far superior. The bánh xèo was still a bit oily for my taste, but the least greasy out of all the places I tried. They also used the highest quality pork of any place so far, alternating between squares of melted bacon type cuts and tender, soft strips. The thịt nướng here was likewise the best I’ve eaten for the same reason: the pork was simply higher quality and cooked with more care, and therefore tastier. There’s also an incredibly cute bulldog here, whose presence is guaranteed to cheer you up!


BEST Mì Quảng:

Mì Quảng Bích

272 Hùng Vương, outskirts

F118157B-60EA-4C33-9305-58CE576862CF.jpeg
C5BE260B-7BEE-446F-A828-4A45682E1E09.jpeg
F6F555E8-03B3-4385-9015-296FC08B871F.jpeg
8F38D232-F59E-4E12-AEFA-F8001C1C0AA2.jpeg

Mì Quảng is named for Quảng Nam province, so it’s a true local specialty (as opposed to a local take on a common food). Mì Quảng is composed of thick rice noodles in a savory broth made with garlic, shallots, black pepper, fish sauce and turmeric, in addition to the local herb infusion found in all Việt noodle soups.

The added protein varies, but in Hội An, if no request is made, you can expect thinly sliced pork or whole shrimp, topped with green onion and peanuts. A deluxe version will have both, and/or hard boiled quail eggs. Some places allow special orders for chicken, but it’s not really the best in this dish. As with all other Việt noodle soups, mint, lettuce, bean sprouts, limes, chilis, and fish sauce are served on the side and can be added to taste. It’s also served with bánh tráng mè (toasted sesame rice crackers) that you can break up and add for crunch. Growing up with Stella D’Oro breadsticks, that toasted sesame taste resonates with me!

Mì Quảng Bích’s recipe is absolutely delicious. Her place is very local yokel, the kind of place where you get the impression the young kids and ancient ladies staring at you may never have seen a foreigner up close and personal before. From the center of the old town, it’s a 40-50 minute walk along the river; it’s nice on a temperate day but I had trouble getting a Grab to drive me back. She only serves two dishes, mì quảng and cao lầu, and her mì quảng has shrimp, thinly sliced roasted pork and quail eggs, and tastes very fresh and slightly spicy. It’s super busy at breakfast and lunchtime, and I would happily go back any time I’m out that way.


I WON’T BE BACK:

Mì Quảng Ông Hai

6A Trương Minh Lượng, old town

Locals and bloggers alike agree that Mì Quảng Ông Hai is the place in Hội An to have this dish. Unfortunately, I was refused service there. I’d like to believe it was a terrible misunderstanding, but it seemed to be xenophobia; they had recent reviews posted from Vietnamese people, and people eating outside, but turned me away one Wednesday night. I thought I just got there too late . . . a lot of mom and pop shops around here close at 8. So I went back early Friday evening, and again there looked to be people eating outside, and again I was told they were closed. I asked if they’d be open on Monday and was told no, they’re closed “because of coronavirus.” So . . . they’re open for Vietnamese people but closed to me, “because of coronavirus.”

To be clear, borders closed March 22nd and I was trying to eat on November 17th. One would assume I live here, not that I somehow illegally entered the country within the past nine months and have been spreading deadly, yet unreported disease ever since. No one in Vietnam has tested positive since September, and the last positive case was community transmission between Vietnamese people. The only people allowed in the country are Vietnamese nationals, so the only people importing coronavirus into the country are Vietnamese nationals. Brutal question: do they really think I’ll make them sick, because they are old/uninformed/don’t understand . . . or have they always loved tourism money while still resenting tourists, or white people, or Americans, or whatever I look like to them, and this is their rare opportunity to say no to someone like me, with fewer of us around lately?

More importantly, is their food worth all that? I’LL NEVER KNOW BECAUSE I WON’T BE BACK.


BEST Hến Trộn with Bánh Đập
. . . BUT DON’T SAY I DIDN’T WARN YOU:

Quán Ăn Bến Tre

Xuyên Trung, Cẩm Nam island

F3E04E6B-F471-48C8-9EA9-A42FDA1F2F9B.jpeg
0E818D74-AB0E-4275-BCA0-D3CAB433D13E.jpeg
B16B2D16-1CBC-4015-BC0A-E040AFD7271A.jpeg
DB929A0E-ACDE-4563-A4A9-7F17D339A077.jpeg
599FC131-DEE1-4534-BF96-35B6EC43D50B.jpeg
2A9BF14C-383A-4154-A3EB-3F1C541B7711.jpeg

This place is known for three things: hến trộn, bánh đập, and scamming tourists. Yet it remains the go-to place, frequented by locals because it’s a third generation business that’s been serving the island’s signature dish for over 50 years. There are many google reviews mentioning the scam: first the proprietress hands you a professionally printed English menu where the price is double the prices on the Vietnamese sign; later, when she presents you the bill, it’s again somehow more than you were expecting. I believe I paid $12 for the clams, smashing rice paper and a single beer, which by local standards is absolutely ludicrous. I don’t always mind being scammed; for example,15,000 dong (65 cents) doesn’t matter much to me, but can really help out a street fruit seller..

This lady, on the other hand, has clearly inherited and expanded a longstanding family business, and had the audacity to debate me on Trump (her for and me against, obviously). I explained I disliked him for many reasons, but primarily the diabolical wealth transfer executed during the pandemic. FYI, the Fed printed exponentially more money than ever before in history, so billionaires could double and triple their net worths while the average American received a single $1200 check many months into the crisis, or never received one at all, because this type of relief is only available to people with permanent addresses and bank accounts in good standing, who also filed their taxes properly in 2019 . . . in other words, cruelly excluding those who need help the most.

This lady posited that according to her sister in Texas, the US government was sending weekly relief checks. I explained that only if you already qualified for unemployment payments, you got an extra $600 per week for a few months, but that ended 5 months ago. Also, due to lockdowns and backlogs at already poorly run state agencies, many people were unfairly denied, or made to wait for weeks or months for their first payment, or sent debit cards to old addresses and just never got paid. When filing my 2020 taxes I was informed by New York State that I had received relief funds that must be declared, when I never received a cent. And again, this method excludes the neediest people in the country, those who didn’t qualify for unemployment and were already struggling before the pandemic.

This is where the conversation went left, with the restaurant owner repeatedly insisting her sister told her it’s $1200 every month and they’re still getting it thanks to Trump. We went back and forth several times, with me responding that it’s just not the case (thinking that perhaps she didn’t understand me due to the language barrier, or that she had misunderstood her sister), and her suggesting I was either ignorant because I was not physically present in the US, or just not believing Trump was doing something good because I didn’t like him.

And this was all before I had touched the food! I found myself slightly hungry, more than a little annoyed, and wondering: why is she asking me questions when she clearly has answers she likes? Why does she need to “win” a casual chat with an American, also a paying customer, about America? Does Trump pay her bills as well as her sister’s? But of course, an argumentative scammer with no time for facts would like Trump.

Back to the food! Hến trộn is tiny river clams sautéed with mint, onion, peanuts, and perhaps some spices or fish sauce. It’s served with bánh đập, which is a super thin three layer rice cake: the outer layers are crisp, but the inner layer is left soft and translucent. You crack a stack of it into pieces with your palm before dipping it into an ultra concentrated local fish sauce, and scooping up the clams with it. The fish sauce is strong enough that it’s served to foreigners with soy sauce to dilute as necessary, because many people can’t stomach ít.

The rice crackers were fun, the fish sauce really was a bit putrid, and the clams were just OK. To be clear, I love clams. As a partially Sicilian New Yorker, clams are in my comfort zone: straight out of the shell in their own liquor; raw with a dab of ketchup; spaghetti alle vongole, oregenata at restaurants . . . we even had Clamato juice in the fridge growing up (which sounds gross until you learn anchovy paste exists). Maybe I need to try a different restaurant, maybe I just prefer my own way over the Vietnamese version, same as snails. I thought they could use a little garlic ;)


BEST Cao Lầu:

Trung Bắc Restaurant

87 Trần Phú, old town

5E16510D-B480-4E13-B2EB-A2A966CACB9A.jpeg
F41D57FB-3F8B-4003-993E-E69901B215C0.jpeg
DD230E50-C331-4319-A219-D07C1F2373C5.jpeg

Cao lầu is Hội An‘s most iconic dish, and making it is quite involved. The water used to make the noodles must come from the Bá Lễ well; those noodles are then soaked in lye leached from the ashes of herbs grown on Cham Island. The complicated process of making the noodles gives them a slightly chewy texture, faintly smoky flavor, and yellow color. The typical topping is sliced char siu pork, bean sprouts, onions, lettuce, and various herbs, with just enough pork broth poured over top to wet the noodles, plus deep fried squares of the noodle dough.

This was unexpectedly delicious. We know I’m not a pork person and the first bite was hard for me, but this was melt-in-your mouth good. The noodles were delicious, the taste was simultaneously fresh, savory and warming. I truly enjoyed it. I also have no doubt that theirs is a wholly authentic version; the only people there were me and 4 really old local dudes taking a break from their card game on the stoop next door. We often hear the words subtle, fresh, and nuanced in reference to Vietnamese cuisine; when done poorly it’s painfully bland, but when done well, magic can happen, and this was it.


THE LITERAL ONE AND ONLY White Rose Dumpling (Bánh Vạc Bông Hồng Trắng)
& Wonton (Hoành Thánh Chiên) PLACE:

White Rose Restaurant
(Nhà Hàng Bông Hồng Trắng)

533 Đ. Hai Bà Trưng, old townish

D61A52C1-A7C6-456E-B5F9-F613F745422F.jpeg
69975B74-9408-4945-A426-7271149F50BC.jpeg
6A39660F-08D3-4DFC-8BDC-1A09A14B9BD3.jpeg
1BB76BF9-1D55-4538-84E5-195901BE95EA.jpeg
EB9244D8-BF0F-4658-A305-5C0023B896A1.jpeg

This restaurant only makes two dishes: bánh vạc bông hồng trắng and hoành thánh chiên.

Bánh vạc bông hồng trắng, or “white rose dumplings”, are more than a local dish, they are a recipe closely guarded by a single family that’s been manufacturing them for generations. They own this restaurant, and they supply all the other restaurants in town. So, no matter where you eat them, this is where they came from.

There are no roses in the dough; the name comes from their resembling a fully bloomed flower when cooked, and was supposedly bestowed by a French patron in the colonial era. The dough is prepared with water from the Bá Lễ well, and the filling is a proprietary shrimp paste. They also include a few with minced veggie filling for variety. Fried onions are sprinkled on top,and the dipping sauce is a bit sweet, made with lemon juice, sugar, chilis, and shrimp broth. These are subtle and delicious!

Hoành thánh chiên is often lumped into the “Hoi An pizza” category by bloggers, but it’s nothing like bánh tráng nướng. It’s actually the same white rose dumplings, but deep fried into wontons and topped with a sweetened ratatouille of tomatoes, oyster mushrooms, white onions, tiny bits of mango and grilled shrimp. In the restaurant it’s served opened faced and gets too soggy for my liking. I prefer to order it to go and put the ratatouille in a bowl, breaking up the wontons and dipping them in like chips.

Both dishes are simple and satisfying, as long as you don’t mind slightly sweet food.


BEST Cơm Gà:

Cơm Gà Bà Buội

22 Phan Chu Trinh, old towN

3C192273-1610-46D0-9DAD-ED7518B18D27.jpeg
65466F84-DA0E-419B-B5AF-80ECDD523D49.jpeg
879AA813-1E9B-43BB-AD0E-9131563B91DD.jpeg
122D1E7E-118D-4917-AB8E-30D12EA03EBD.jpeg

The history of cơm gà is interesting: in the 17th and 18th centuries, Hội An was Vietnam’s largest trading port, and many Chinese (and a few Japanese) families moved to the town and province for business reasons. With them came their cuisine, and some of it stuck around. This dish hails from Hainan island, and uses their “white cutting” method for preparing chicken: first boiling it in herb and onion infused water, then shredding it and dressing it lightly in salt, pepper and lime juice. The rice is cooked in the resulting chicken broth, sometimes with garlic or shallots added. The meal is served with a small cup of the chicken broth, a small dish of shredded papaya and carrots, herbs on the side, and if requested, a small bowl of cooked innards.

With such a simple meal, the highest quality ingredients and the right blend of herbs is everything. Bad cơm gà is bland verging on inedible; great cơm gà is still quite boring in my opinion, but refreshing in its simplicity, the kind of food I would eat if I had a sick stomach and needed to cut sugar, spice and grease. That’s probably why Vietnamese people are usually thinner than Westerners, the mentality isn’t about seeing everyday food as an opportunity to overindulge, but as a tool to stay energized.

This restaurant has been the go-to place for the dish for over 50 years, and theirs is the best I had. They also serve corn milk and black sesame milk if you need an exotic hit of carbs.


ALSO THE BEST Cơm Gà:

Cơm Gà Bà Hồ

16 phan chu trinh, old town

626FDCA5-BE56-4BF8-81E3-7C60E2DFCFC0.jpeg
FCB4F499-74A3-41E6-8957-3AE549239855.jpeg
12AC3790-4D22-4326-974A-3A1FDD695050.jpeg
8B12C3D3-ACA9-48C5-8D1F-57207BC6CC7B.jpeg

In business since 1969 (side note: wow what a tough year to hang out a shingle in Vietnam), this restaurant has their own well, and the cơm gà is cooked by a granny. Who could ask for more? It will never be my favorite dish (too boring) but the version served here is tasty and authentic. Of particularly good quality was the broth; it was incredibly familiar to me, tasting just like the chicken broth at old school Chinatown restaurants. It makes sense given the southern coastal Chinese diaspora of 200 years ago, and it was wonderful to discover that these dishes I’ve eaten literally across the world from each other are so true to the ancient original.


BEST Bánh Bèo:

Bánh Bèo Bà Mỹ

Nguyễn Thị Minh Khai, old town

BBFD5770-593D-4CFC-807C-3DD19F17E44E.jpeg
9A7736BC-EB8B-4D45-B45C-7F04923B9489.jpeg
A5D79479-20CE-46F9-B934-CBF91FD48F5A.jpeg

Bánh bèo hails from slightly further north in Huế, but the two cities were closely entwined as long as Hội An was a primary port, bringing in luxury imports for consumption at the royal court. The dish consists of glutinous rice and tapioca flour shells, topped with with a bit of dried shrimp and onions, pork skin or sliced cinnamon sausage, and topped with a sweet nước mắm pha dipping sauce. This is more of a snack than a meal; it’s best shared with friends and washed down with iced tea. It’s a bit bland for me; I find myself filling the cups with the sweet dipping sauce. However, this restaurant has been serving them up for over 20 years, so if you’d like to try them, it’s a great choice.


BEST Bún Đậu Mắm Tôm:

Quán Dâu Bắc

71 Đào Duy Từ, old townish

IMG_8459.jpeg
IMG_8454.jpeg
IMG_8455.jpeg

Bún đậu mắm tôm is not for everyone! The central flavor of the dish comes from extremely pungent fermented shrimp paste, served with Vietnamese type salad greens, sliced cucumber, fried tofu, fried and boiled pork belly, fried spam, and fried new rice cakes. If you can’t tell from the preponderance of fried elements, this is kind of a late-night-drinking-with-friends food. The dish originated in Hanoi, but this is the wildly popular central coast version.

Run by two ancient ladies and an English fluent daughter, a cadre of elderly local women hang out here in the daytime, and invited me to snack on the tiniest snails ever with them. Fun!

IMG_8461.jpeg

Hội An Street Food | Vietnam

A71CF30E-A595-4604-9399-9646DA221094.jpeg

I typically shy away from street food. Of course the hygiene is questionable relative to a restaurant . . . Where does the server wash their hands, particularly after using the restroom? How are they washing utensils? Also, as a Westerner, any stand without posted prices will charge me much more than a local: walking in Hội An Old Town with my Vietnamese friends, a serving of anything is 15,000 dong; on my own, it’s 30,000 or 40,000. For reference, a sit down meal can be bought at a non-tourist restaurant for 35,000.

AA46741F-4107-405C-BBE8-E7F0005B9C2B.jpeg

Even when I’m willing to risk my health and accept being scammed in the name of experiencing local culture, the element that typically makes me skip street food is the street itself: squatting at exhaust pipe height amongst chainsmoking locals, trash bags piled around every tree and sometimes burning in the street, is enough to make me feel ill before eating at all. The setting makes it pretty difficult to appreciate good flavors, and anything aggressively pungent can quickly become nauseating.

05647B39-DA8C-4202-8CCB-09925F6EC9D7.jpeg

I was recently willing to give street food a chance in Hội An, because this discomfort factor has been mitigated by the Covid pandemic. Nine months after borders closed, and less than a month after several severe floods, this extremely tourist reliant town is dead, hands down the quietest of any I’ve visited in the country. There is no crowding and very little traffic; I could easily take my street food, walk a block and eat quietly in front of a boarded up museum, without aggressive scooter drivers or souvenir hawkers bothering me.

A7366B6A-6BFA-43F1-8B08-755A586724AD.jpeg

Hội An is also particularly well known for its local specialties, and with no tourists the street food is currently in its totally authentic state (sometimes food served to white people in tourist areas is prepared extra bland, extra sweet, or drowned in soy sauce, which obviously doesn’t appeal).

6C7F3940-D456-4345-9311-6D636E310075.jpeg

Spoiler alert: I still greatly prefer restaurants, and I’ll cover the best restaurants and must-try local dishes of Hội An in a separate post. Still, there is such vlogger/blogger/foodie fervor over Vietnamese street food that I’m glad I tried a lot of it.

559E6B8E-198E-49D4-BD01-5D90C6C62A81.jpeg

I have 4 ‘ratings’:

  • Yuck

  • Meh

  • Would Eat Again

  • Wow

Here are my thoughts!


Bánh Bột Lọc

MEH.

22CA8160-BE77-49F1-995B-9F158A99AF4F.jpeg
868349ED-FA64-4DE8-8FA6-31BF14281BBE.jpeg

These tiny dumplings have stretchy, tasteless rice wrappers and are filled with either a tiny, unshelled shrimp (you eat the head, tail and all, for a crunchy effect) or a lump of meat paste that I later learned was pork but was honestly indiscernible to me by taste alone. These were boring and made edible solely by the generous topping of fish sauce, chili jam and fried onions.


Bánh Xoài

MEH.

1FC5A788-D890-413B-883A-912E34C621A9.jpeg
D96919BD-3694-4222-8CE9-D825C97F85C8.jpeg
A04E9321-B0FD-4254-BD8B-888FDE82A262.jpeg

These are the infamous mango-free “mango cakes”: thick, glutinous rice balls dusted in powdered sugar or flour (very mochi-like) and filled with roughly ground peanuts, granulated sugar, and a bit of cinnamon if you’re lucky. If Bánh Mì is the Việt equivalent of a breakfast sandwich, these are Việt donuts: you snag one or two and eat them standing up on the corner, coffee (or tea) in the other hand, regretting it more with every bite. The sugar is so rough that I was genuinely concerned about cracking a tooth! And dare I say they don’t look like mangoes either?


Chè Bắp

would eat again.

61CDFC42-DFB9-4480-8A9E-EE7C54CF7B36.jpeg

There are about a trillion kinds of chè; the wikipedia page is quite illustrative if you are curious. The most common is definitely Chè Bắp, a corn and tapioca starch pudding drizzled with coconut cream. It’s served hot and cold, and is tasty both ways. It’s sweet, but not too sweet, and was good enough for me to experiment with some other types of chè . . .


Chè Thịt Quay

WOULD EAT AGAIN.

5A1FE88A-42B5-4A06-A094-D6E0E629F657.jpeg
A377A6DB-DD28-455F-9ED7-51EE7FFA1BA1.jpg

These are small glutinous rice balls filled with tiny bits of roasted pork, floating in a hot sugary broth seasoned with sesame, ginger and sometimes cinnamon. The contrast of sweet and salty is great; this reminds me of the flavors in a traditional moon cake.


Chè Hạt Sen

Would eat again.

5653D744-0302-4565-8806-C283B3532F75.jpeg
B803539E-2B8C-41FF-8FA1-7EB834A0D4BA.jpeg

To me, the least interesting types of chè are those served with jellies over ice. However, I approach my food listicles as a completionist, and these were clearly the most popular versions. I heard somewhere that lotus seed chè was trendy cuisine in the 19th c. Imperial City, which is almost correct: the imperial chè was actually lotus seed stuffed longans in vanilla and jasmine flower soup (needless to say, too expensive and time consuming for street vendors to bother with). I still really enjoyed my poor man’s version, which was a nice balance of sweet and starchy. As the ice melted into the syrup, it became a really refreshing drink. It opened my mind to the various bean iterations on offer . . .

It’s official: I’m a chè convert.


Đậu Hũ 

Meh.

88E3CD0C-B132-44D8-BC00-01AD98DFA10A.jpeg
ABE934B4-9A37-45B3-B6CB-3A266BD77D26.jpeg

Đậu Hũ, Đậu Phũ, Tào phớ and Tàu phớ are all transliterations of “tofu”, and refer to the same dish. The dessert features a slightly sweet soy custard topped with oversweet runny caramel syrup, miscellaneous jellies, and occasionally a spoonful of chè (the above pictured has chè đậu xanh, or mung bean pudding) or shaved coconut. It’s served either hot or over ice. It’s so pretty that I really wanted to like it. It also tasted so familiar, so nostalgic, that I bought it from three different vendors despite not really liking it, trying to place it . . .

Flan. It’s the mediocre flan your second generation Puerto Rican aunt would bring to your birthday party and everyone ate because she tried and she’s an RN and no one is good at everything so be nice! A forgettable prelude to the Carvel cake. My favorite was Fudgie the Whale. Also, this could be a lot better with half-frozen berries on top instead of almost flavorless jellies. Anyway . . .


Bánh Tráng Nướng

Wow.

0EA1031A-D088-4F5A-8C4A-DEEC017D79B2.jpeg
A511FBA5-B572-4085-8171-63E2578287A6.jpeg
E15E664F-47C4-4266-90BB-C25C061984B2.jpeg

Your choice of seasoned dried beef, shrimp or chicken (I chose shrimp and chicken) are layered with green onions atop a thin fermented rice shell. The heat is turned on, a quail egg is cracked on top and cooks as it flows into and blends the other ingredients, and the whole thing is finished with a drizzle each of mayo and chili sauce. If you’re sitting down to eat it’s served open faced; if you get it to go it will be folded over, quickly flipped and handed to you in a paper pocket. Yet another Việt street food with a hmmm . .. kinda I guess? English nickname, this is commonly referred to as ‘Vietnamese pizza”. It’s much closer to a tostada, in my opinion. Delicious!


Bánh Khọt

Wow.

209AEA7A-0BC3-4200-89EF-027658D6F7D7.jpeg
IMG_7284.jpeg
IMG_7279.jpeg

Dung is the place in town to go for bánh khọt, with foodies and locals packing her stand all day. She also has two employees frying and packing the shells for wholesale to restaurants. The shells are made of rice flour, corn starch, and coconut milk, tinged yellow with turmeric, and fried in a griddle. The filling is typically fried egg, and deluxe versions can include a shrimp or shredded chicken. The whole thing is topped off with fresh veggies, and enough nước mắm pha to make a soup at the bottom of the bowl. This meal gives the satisfaction of fried food, but I find it much less heavy and oily than bánh xèo. Dung doesn’t serve shrimp or chicken, but tops her dish off with a generous slice of fried pork, for a salty/sweet contrast and a really filling meal.


Xí Mà

Would eat again.

F6727D83-AD08-4FDC-8751-4CEFEDF89EAD.jpeg
5279E619-43FF-48E6-A3A7-9D0AB4948BE7.jpeg

This sweet black soup is surprisingly elusive. It’s served by one family only; they grow sesame plants in their garden and make the soup with water from the Bá Lễ well, which is only a few steps from their home. It’s served to tourists as part of a cooking demonstration in their kitchen, and to locals on the sidewalk across from the Catholic Church.

It’s considered a special occasion when the octogenarians (who started selling the soup 50 years ago) get out on the sidewalk and sell themselves; it’s usually the younger generation who will do it now. The simplicity of this soup and it’s low price (10,000 dong/bowl) have made it a popular local breakfast for many years. I like it enough to buy if the family is out that day and I happen past, but not enough to look and look for it on different days, at different times, many days in a row, as I had to.


Trái Cây

Wow.

108AF53F-9969-413C-8345-680987D772AF.jpeg
78805090-72C9-4DB5-8683-53A1576556E6.jpeg

Probably the healthiest street food ever, fruit cups are simple: pick your fruit (mango, guava, watermelon, avocado, dragonfruit, pineapple, etc.) then choose sweet or spicy. Sweet is dressed with a drizzle of chocolate or caramel syrup; spicy is dressed with a red pepper or chili based syrup, then shaken. My favorite (pictured here) is spicy mango.


Bánh Dừa Nướng

Would eat again.

11CD5405-06EE-4635-9306-906139BFD814.jpeg
460D6DFD-863B-4C7B-81EF-C93F0790EFAF.jpeg
FD7499C4-30EE-4CB0-B167-03345AE8C5C9.jpeg

These are French crèpes in a different shape; it’s the exact same taste and texture, but instead of the folded envelope/cone I’m used to, the dough was artfully shaped into a sort of clamshell. The filling is shaved coconut, toasted peanuts and a bit of chocolate syrup; nothing special, but satisfying nonetheless if you like sweets.


Kem Khói Hàn Quốc

Yuck.

3CA80827-901D-46A3-AE65-B05E017FF85C.jpeg
F03E0A26-33B8-4B56-9459-2B2220427860.jpeg
401BCE12-01E1-4D41-B803-5185E0A1136C.jpeg

Hàn Quốc means Korean, and this dessert is definitely as flashy and trendy as everything else that seems to filter down to Vietnam from Kpop culture. I had to look up what exactly this is, because it wasn’t ice cream as advertised! Truly light as air, fried yet completely flavorless, the brightly dyed balls are drizzled with chocolate syrup and disgustingly sweet strawberry flavored syrup. Then, the whole thing is sprayed with liquid nitrogen, instantly freezing it and creating the smoke effect.

If you eat it before the smoke dissipates, the smoke will come out of your nose and mouth while you eat and breathe, so this is marketed as ‘dragon’s breath ice cream.’ It looks cool, but could look a lot better with more sophisticated shapes and colors. It tastes awful; all I could taste was the saccharine over-sweetness of the fake strawberry syrup. I was done after 3 or 4 balls, but it still left my mouth feeling numb and coated. This is more an edible toy for children and Instagrammers than food.


Khoai Tây

Meh.

2C628A54-EAA2-4B6F-A186-35ED7F6E9882.jpeg
CC2262B8-BE1E-4CB0-80E8-592EFB2FFFB4.jpeg

These seemed to be the least popular option in the tourist area and the most common option in the non-tourist area, so I was curious. They’re grilled cakes of mashed sweet potatoes mixed with a few small bits of banana, coconut, or green beans. They don’t taste great and they don’t taste bad; they really don’t taste much different than the rinsed and grilled whole sweet potatoes you can buy for the same price three feet away.

They would taste a lot better deep fried, or at least buttered before they were grilled; they could really take off with both bigger bits of fruit and more creative choices, like pineapple, or caramelized peppers and onions, or blueberries. However, these are an old-fashioned subsistence food for locals who need to eat on $1-2/day, not an experimental foodie culture item.


Where to Buy Street Food

Street food is truly ubiquitous in Hội An; I genuinely don’t think you could walk down a single block without passing a vendor. If you have as little as 20,000 dong (less than $1) you will not go hungry here. It’s sometimes difficult to find the same vendor twice because most will rotate within the same couple blocks just for variety, and others get shuffled off their corners every now and then by police officers cracking down on unlicensed sellers. However, if you are looking to try a large variety of foods without walking too far, these are the hubs:

983D84D1-AD4C-4A87-8F4B-A8A1261C3956.jpeg

All Hours:

EA450F93-ED47-4560-AB6B-DEDE9A7C27FB.jpeg

Châu Thượng Văn, for the whole block north of the Bridge of Lights, is packed with sellers at all hours; they spread out heading towards the Japanese covered bridge along the river, and stretch west along Trần Phú for a few blocks before turning northwards on Lê Lợi for a block or two.

Early Morning Only:

218CB2C5-A2DB-4AF1-8C76-8B8F0A9215B2.jpg

Chợ Hội An (the Hoi An market) has a really large indoor food court where local specialties are sold to locals (so extremely authentic foods and a lot of variety). However, it empties out after 10 AM, with 3/4 of the sellers going home, and by noon it’s just a few local businessmen eating lunch. On the north front of the market, and for a couple blocks of Trần Phú on either side of the entrance, are many more sellers.

Evening Only:

4BB0A210-D1B7-4721-ADB9-DF93C484C5DB.jpeg

On An Hội island (across the Thu Bồn river from the old town) there is a nightly evening market on 2-3 blocks of Nguyễn Hoàng. They sell the local classics as well as more modern sweet treats like Nutella pancakes. There are also a couple bars here with live music and a nice evening scene. Things start up around 7:00 PM.