Bangkok - Poor First Impressions

We had scheduled two days in Bangkok before moving on to Koh Samui. Neither of us having been to Bangkok before, we didn't really know what to expect - except for advice from people to be cautious. We've handled other large crowded cities before, so we weren't really worried.

We had a whole day planned, starting with a visit to the Grand Palace, then onto lunch and one of the many mega malls to stock up before heading to island time.

We get to the Grand Palace ok. The day was hot and sticky, but other than that, the visit was a very interesting experience:

The entire complex was extremely ornate, with most of the buildings guilded in gold leaf, gold paint, real gold plating and mosaic glass. Home to many sacred temples, the site was indeed grand and regal. But it wasn't until we left the palace, that our adventure really started.

We get back to the sidewalk just outside the palace walls. Spent from the heat and humidity, we look for the first way out of area. We approach the first taxi in the taxi line up. We negotiate with the driver to get us back to the hotel for around the same amount as it cost to get us there... around 100 bhat. The driver says ok, but he says for 100 bhat, he will need to make us stop at a couple of stores before we head back to the hotel. Helen jumps into action and practically pushes me out the door.

We try a few cabs down the line and they all tell us the same thing, "Sure, 100 bhat... but we stop here, here and here." We figure these cab drivers prey on the tourists coming out of the palace and take them to shops that will give them a kickback for every rube they drop off in front of their door. Obviously we want no part of this. Helen tries one more cab in the line up. The driver says the same, "Sure, 100 bhat... but we stop..." Helen jumps in, "No stop. Just to hotel." The driver says, "No stop? Ok, 300 bhat." WHAT?? It cost us 90 bhat to get there! Now this joker wants 300 for the return trip??

So now we're pissed and decide to walk away from the area and hail a random cab off the street. We walk several blocks away and flag one down. This cabbie says 200 bhat! We said no way... we know it doesn't even take 100 bhat for that distance, so we keep walking. We keep an eye out for other cabs, but none seem to want to take us for less than 200 bhat. Less than that, they would want to drop us off at certain shops for their kickback.

We keep walking, and keep checking for cabs. We are now well away from the palace. In fact, we are over one third to our destination... about 45mins of walking so far. We flag down another cab. Same thing! 200 bhat! Even though we are closer to the hotel than we were 45mins ago!

So we decide then that we will try to walk the rest of the way, not knowing how long it will actually take us. We walk for another half hour or so and come across some traffic police. Great! They will help us get back to the hotel, or at least get us a cab without getting hustled... or so we thought. As we are asking the officer questions, another traveler overhears our conversation and mentions to us that sometimes these traffic cops work with the cabbies to get them business. In fact, the tuk tuk that the cop was suggesting would quote us even more than the cabs! What?? Now we can't even trust the cops?!

Disheartened, tired and frustrated with all of the hustling we have had to fight through, we commit to walking the rest of the way, since we are now over halfway there, thanks to an untrustworthy lot... not to mention the anxiety of having to wade through throngs of people who, as we have been warned, may pick-pocket, threaten, or outright mug you for all you are worth at that moment. Not a fun afternoon.

We finally reach our hotel as a storm begins. Strong winds and rain work us over as we cross the final street and scamper into the lobby. The journey took us just over two hours. We hole ourselves up for the remainder of evening in our hotel and room where we are safe from anyone else trying to fleece us.

If the cabs would just do the honest thing and take people to where they want to go, based on the running meter, I'm certain that they will make much more in a day than waiting in a taxi line up for the next sucker who will let themselves be taken for a joyride.

Bangkok, you cannot be trusted. Despite your beautiful sites and culture, you made a poor impression on two tourists where were ready to love you. We will not be back.

Leaving Hoi An

Hoi An Ancient Town at Night

Man, Danang has a nice airport! We are sitting here waiting for our flight to Ho Chi Minh City, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to add a few notes about our time here in Hoi An.

Mainland Chinese tourists really ARE everywhere! As we were having lunch at Wan Lu, we watched a couple of large Chinese tour groups march through the street. As they passed, they left a trail of garbage in their wake. Hoi An is a VERY clean town. There are people cleaning the streets all the time with bins and brooms. It really bothered me to see the inconsiderate and cavalier attitude of these tourists. It made me want to say to them, "Your abhorent behaviour offends me a great deal, sir!" Then slap him with a white glove. But he'd probably slap me back and then find ourselves in a proper sissy fight, which benefits no one.

One of the things we did a lot of while waiting for each fitting was look for different happy hours around the old town. We found several... but few were any good. This cocktail for example consists of rum, passion fruit and orange juice. If you don't know what natural passion fruit looks like, there's some at the end of my straw here. Whoever thinks it's ok to put something with the consistency of snot into a cocktail is dead wrong. Because it's not. (Get it?! Get it?! hehehe!)

 

When we first booked the trip, we thought maybe five days in an old town may be too many. But I'm glad we did. It gave us a chance to really get to know the town, and observe local culture, including the mad hustle from the ladies in the market. Helen got so used to the streets, we no longer needed a map to get around. Plus, the few extra days allowed us time to take advantage of our beach resort, the ocean view, and to catch up on some reading. It was time well spent.

We are now ready to get back to city life. On to HCM City!

Mean Cuisine

The cuisine of Vietnam, like most countries, varies depending on each unique region in the country. For example, pho isn't pho unless it comes from Hanoi, or is an exact replica of what you can get in Hanoi... in the north... right down to the types of herbs you are served - sans bean sprouts... at least, according to people in Hanoi

Here in Hoi An, in central Vietnam, Helen and I have had the real pleasure of experiencing what is local to this region of this engaging country. We ate so much, and in such variety, I'm going to try to keep this short and sweet.

Seemingly, I am a product of my environment. In Vancouver, when we largely think of pho, or grilled meat meals... which are excellent. And although my friends and I have really tried to try different dishes at local Vietnamese establishments, we are only really starting to scratch the surface, and shops advertise "beef noodle soup" heavily. So here in Hoi An, I guess I was expecting variations of pho as a staple here. Not so.

One of the specialties here is "cao lau" which is a bowl of just warm egg noodles in a very light fish sauce dressing, topped with slices of roasted pork and the ever-present bouquet of fresh herbs. Enter, Wan Lu; a very local spot. It was packed when we came across it. That's what caught our attention... we decided to try it maily because, if the locals like it... the food has to be good!

We ate there one night and tried the cao lau. We liked it so much we went back for lunch the next day:

The real magic, one would think is the pork... afterall, what's better than slow roasted slices of pork? It turns out, at least for me, the best part of this dish is the egg noodle. Now, I like pasta... big fan. But this noodle is like the best al dente pasta, beefed up. It's tender and just elastic enough to provide an amazing texture that balances out the soft juicy pork. The herbs add bright floral accents to each bite. But I do have to say, I'm not a big fan of the local watercress. It tastes fishy. Who knew an herb can taste like bad oysters?!

The night before, we noticed that all the locals were ordering this thing that looked like a skinny tamale. Wrapped in banana leaf, they open up to reveal an organic stick of what looks like rice? Flour? Rice flour?

So, for lunch, Helen orders us a couple:

It turns out, it's seasoned steam pork! And you know what? It tastes like a mild pepperoni stick!

The pork is ground fine like a pepperoni seasoned with black and white pepper, with slight floral sweetness coming from the banana leaf wrap. So good!

We complete our meal with "white rose," small bit of pork, covered with a gelatenous rice wrap, garnished with fried shallots and garlic. Is is similiar to shrimp dumplings at dim sum except with pork. The sauce is what makes it. It's sweet and slightly sour which brings out the starchy flavour of the rice wrap.

Usually, we are very small eaters. It doesn't take much to make us full. But Helen and I polished off one bowl each of the cao lau, all of the white rose, and the banana leaf sausage... all this for about $8. Incredible meal for what a combo now costs at McDonald's.

One of the major highlights of our time here in Hoi An would have to be the cooking class we did. We took it at Morning Glory, a mainstay restaurant owned and operated by a local chef who was one of the originals who started Hoi An a a tourist town.

We start off at the market where our guide walks us through the different sections and explains the different ingredients used in local cooking. We taste fruits and smell our way through herbs as we walk past fresh meat and live seafood:

Then we make our way back to the restaurant to start our class:

To call it a cooking class may be over extending the concept a little. As we were under time constraint, all of the prep was done for us, and much of the "cooking" was closely watched over by cooks helping our instructor, so there really isn't much risk in screwing up. Still, it was a wonderful experience to work with authentic local ingredients.

We make five dishes - cabbage soup with shrimp parcels, fresh salad rolls, banh xeo (Vietnamese pancake), grilled chicken with lemon leaf, and mango salad:

Even though Helen was a little apprehensive with having to be hands-on with this class, she did great! We both had a great time creating this food. We are given the recipes for all of these dishes, so we hope to share them with you all when we get home.

One last true highlight I want to share is of this banh mi (Vietnamese sandwich). I was first made aware of this thing on yet another episode of No Reservations where Bourdain finds "the best banh mi" in Hoi An. I have had a few banh mi's at home and Los Angeles. Good stuff. Great french baguette, slathered with pate and usually filled with chicken or sliced ham and topped with pickeled vegetables. In the Bourdain episode, his traveling companion (his former boss at Les Halles) calls it a "banh mi deluxe." After trying it, I am going to one-up him and call it a "banh mi extrodinaire!"

Helen and I ordered one each... with everything, including a fried egg on top! That means, along with the usual toppings of fresh herbs, pate, pickeled veggies... they put in sausage, chicken, and pork slices... THEN to it with a freshly fried egg! Here's the evidence:

There are many, many more food experiences that I would like to share with you of our time here in Haoi An. But this post is getting long enough, and I'm satisfied that we covered the very best of what we came across. Can't wait to try to make my own banh xeo!

Ho Chi Minh City

We arrive in HCM City, formally known as Saigon for just over a day and half. On our itinerary, it really is a stop over to capitalize on cheap airfare, so we didn't schedule much time here. As big as this city is... home to about ten million people, there really isn't much that Helen and I were interested in seeing. Here are many official buildings of the state, etc. But since we aren't all that interested in HCM's political culture, we ended up just wandering the city, including a massive market. Despite being housed in a huge warehouse building, the market was an inferno of body heat and sweat. It was pretty gross, but we made it out with a few bargains.

We did come across this guy:

He fed birds and invited them to sit all over him. Pretty fun to watch. But that was pretty much it for our day wandering around.

Oh! Since traffic seems to be a very central theme to our trip through Vietnam, it is worth mentioning that Saigon traffic is a little more organized than Hanoi, but about ten times more volume. We thought crossing the street was difficult. But here in HCM, instead of having to cross four lanes, we are now having to cross up to eight lanes, and through traffic circles. There is a slight sense of doom as I step off the curb and into the fray; followed by feelings of relief and pride once I reach the other side. Eye contact, keep moving, NEVER stop moving, eye contact, repeat.

Here I am as I make my way across:

Here is Helen making her way across:

Sorry about the poor quality of the photo. I had to take this one quick. Please note the two ladies to Helen's right. That's where the traffic is coming from. It may look like Helen is walking along with her fellow pedestrians cautiously through the traffic. But, what you may not realize is that Helen made sure she was on the other side of these ladies as the traffic came towards them. That's right people... Helen used a couple of older ladies as human shields. She is all class, isn't she?

 

Custom Fit, Custom Experience

One of the main reasons Helen and I decided to visit Hoi An is for the reputable tailoring that is available in this town. Although this town really is just a small community, the density of tailor shops is quite staggering. There are certainly tailors in other areas in the country, but none that match the sheer concentration of shops that offer custom, made-to-measure suits, shirts, and general clothing within 24hrs if need be. This often includes multiple fittings to ensure that everything fits just right. And all of this for what we North Americans would consider to be a steal.

So on our first day, we seek out Mac Khai Tailor, a recommendation from our guide in Hanoi. In fact, not only was this shop a recommendation, but Tu actually called the shop in Hoi An while we were on the tour in Hanoi and confirmed a price for a good quality suit. Turns out, the best quality wool suit will cost about $120, custome fit. WHAT? $120?! That's the price of a new shirt at Club Monaco... AND it will fit all crappy-like right off the rack!

 

We stroll through the town and find the shop right by the central market. Upon entering a sleepy looking store, we meet the tailor. We never got her name, but she mentioned that she and her family owned this store and have been tailoring for over decade.

To start, we sit down and are provided with suit catalogues for the tailor to emulate. Both Helen and I pick out one suit each and then we move along to pick the textle from which our suits are to be made.

We both get measured up and the order is then forwarded to the production shops around town to be produced. The storefronts really are just that... a front. They take the orders, then the measurements and appropriate details, then the orders are farmed out to a handful of facilities around town, hidden in the alleyways and side streets of Hoi An, creating made-to-measure magic in a few days time at most.

Meanwhile, Helen is getting measured up as well. But because she has ordered skirts, blouses, dresses and a suit, her measurements took much longer than mine. So, I make my way over to the shirt textiles. I had not originally thought about having any shirts made... I am very happy with ordering through Maxwell Clothiers based in Hong Kong. But I casually ask how much a made-to-measure shirt would cost... she says, $25. WHAT?! $25 for a custom fitted shirt?! I have socks that cost more than that (which is stupid, but that's story for another day).

So, with such an attractive price, I then order a shirt as well. I look and I look, but I can't find a fabric that would be compatible with the suit fabric I just ordered.

Try as the tailor might to try and find me a solid light blue cotton, we cannot agree on something that I'm happy with. So, she suggests that I come with her to another shop (I'm guessing one of her suppliers) to pick out a fabric from a larger selection. I say, OK... sounds good. What I just agreed to was a ride on her scooter that is so prevalent all over Vietnam. How cool is this? Not only do I get to have clothes made to measure, but now I'm gonna experience Hoi An traffic on the back of a ubiquitous motor bike?! COOL! I put on a helmet and off we go!

At the other shop, I manage to find a cotton I like, and we make our way back to the other side of town. This is part of our ride back... notice the pedestrians... this is how traffic works here:

 

We were told to come back the next day for the first fitting... meaning they would have the suits, shirts, dresses, and skirts ready for a try within the 24hrs. Impressive. As we are about to leave the shop, the tailor asks us if we would like shoes. I'm thinking... no thanks. I can buy shoes at home. But she explains that her sister works at a shop that makes custom fit shoes. So, she asks if we want shoes made to fit for us. Curious and quite excited, we decide we should definitely check it out! Custom shoes to go with my customer suit? Yes ma'am, sign me up!

Like the suits, we choose from catalogues for the shop to replicate based on personal measurements they take of your feet. And, they too will be ready in 24hrs. Crazy stuff... I'm loving all of this. Both of us ended up ordering one pair each.

We return the next day to try on our new clothes. As expected they need tweaking. Shorter here, tigher there, looser here, etc. They take note of the adjustments and send the garments back to the production facility for the alterations. We are told to come back the next day for another fitting. In the meantime, I was happy enough with the suit that I ordered a few more... three more to be exact... oh and also 3 more shirts. Oops... I kinda went a little overboard. Helen had them copy a couple of Banana Republic blouses she recently purchased.

The day after that, we show up for another fitting of what is now, a new for each of us. We have to try on each piece and take note of anything that needs to be done to make it a perfect fit. The challenge with this is it's about 35 degrees in the store and humid like Mexico during high season. Cramming ourselves into wool suits and trying to peel them off ourselves was exhausting. Plus, we keep having to send the clothes back for alterations.

Today was day for and fittings were required everyday since we got here. In fact, I had to send one blazer back so many times, the tailor took me on another scooter ride to the production shop itself to face the actual people who produce my suits. This place is an apparel slaughter house, with fabric, scraps, and thread strewn all over the floor that houses rows of machines and ironing stations. There were about nine workers, eight of them being men, all shirtless. One of them steps up and takes a look at my jacket. I don't understand what he said, but I think he agrees that the blazer is indeed too tight. He takes the jacket and works with surgical precision on opening up the lining, then releasing the seams. On the table, my jacket is turned inside out. The thing look practically torn apart and a chaotic mess. But to this tradesman, the knows exactly where everything should be, and what his next move is. He is relaxed... so relaxed in fact that the cigarette hanging off his lower lip is barely an afterthought. I watch as bits of ash make it dangerously close to being permanently sown into my lining. But, before we know it, the guy is done in tearing my jacket apart and putting it back together within about 20mins.

Finally, Helen and I are basically satisfied with out garments and settle up. After 4 days of fittings and continuous shopping, we ended up buying a total of five suites, seven shirts/blouses, a skirt and a summer dress... all for under $800US. We will now likely need a new suitcase to bring all of this stuff back... still we think it's worth it!

 

Hoi An... Old World Charm

Helen and I arrived in Hoi An three days ago. We really didn't know what to expect as my main objective for visiting this town was to have some suits made. Hoi An is currently the hot spot for tailoring in Vietnam. But we will get into our tailoring adventure in another post.

Having just left a densely populated city like Hanoi, I think we both were looking forward to a change of pace. Boy, did we find it. We were picked up from Danang City where our taxi took about 30mins to drive us to Hoi An, which is further inland than Danang, but is still considered a coastal town. We pull up to our hotel/resort and were incredibly surprised to find this:

To be honest, I only booked this hotel (on hotels.com) because it had the most pictures posted versus other hotels in the area, and the bathroom pictures looked clean... VERY important! What we find of this resort is a major bonus... like a private beach! WHAT?? Where ARE we??

Not only were we greeted with a very professional and warm welcome from the front staff, we were immediately upgraded to a bungalow suite just off the pool. Did I mention the beach?

Yes, we were happily surprised and have been spending the days soaking in our digs, and the town. Within just three days, Helen and I have already developed a bit of a routine: wake up around 8am, have breakfast that includes Western and Vietnamese cuisine at the hotel, walk over to the beach and do a couple of hours of reading, then move along to the pool where we enjoy drinks and the occasional dip in the pool between chapters. All this before noon... yes, we have been very productive. After this ritual, we take the next shuttle into town and wander the streets of this beautiful and charming old town.

Hoi An has been largely untouched since it developed into a trading and commercial hub for Japanese and Chinese traders through the 19th and early 20th centuries. There is still much evidence of these cultural influences in the architecture and town infrastructure, including Chinese temples, Japanese burials, and a collection of shops and restaurants that still reflect foreign origins. And, through some glorious miracle, it remained intact through the wars of the 60s and 70s.

We wander the streets in the mid afternoon, just after the peak of the overhead sun to find some places that our new friend, Tu has told us about. These include eateries, and a particular tailor shop, owned by a friend who he has known since the shop owner was ten years old. I will write separate posts on the food and tailoring, so stay tuned.

Overall, we are both really enjoying the change of pace. Hoi An is not nearly as large, or as crowded as Hanoi, so we are able to really take out time and absorb the details of what life may have been like for local residents. Unfortunately, as authentic as the town may have remained, it is abundantly clear that Hoi An is a tourist attraction now, first and foremost. Many of the restaurants showcase Western foods first, and keep the local cuisine hidden in the back pages. The prices are relatively higher here in most places, again due to high tourist traffic.

Most evident of this "tourist syndrome" can be found in the market in the centre of town. Immediately upon entering, we were confronted by a strange lady asking all sorts of questions about where we are from and making small talk in broken english. I made the (yet another) mistake of answering her initial question... something that Helen DID NOT do... I did. After that, the lady followed us through the market, hounding us to visit her shop. I then realized, "Oh... THAT'S why Helen didn't answer her question!" Must follow her lead.

We finally shake this lady off, and manage to peek at a few things. The market is organized into sections. There is a kind of food court full of hawkers and delicious looking and smelling offerings. We make our way through all the medicine vendors, past all the vibrantly fresh produce and down a corridor that looks full of crafts and art. Next thing we know, guess who?! The lady who was hounding us earlier! She just shows up like a ninja and continues to hound us to visit her shop and buy things. Ugh... what a way to ruin an authentic experience... although, considering the state of the town now... it probably doesn't get more authentic than that.

Next, we find a banh mi stall that first enticed me on a particular episode of No Reservations. (I'll get into this sandwich later). While waiting for our sandwiches, Helen says to me, "I'm going to speak Chinese if anyone hounds us again. Maybe they won't be so persistent if they think we can't understand." On que, another lady steps to us and asks us where we are from! Learning from our earlier experience (yes, I do that sometimes!), I stay quiet. Helen pipes up and says something in Mandarin that I don't understand. The lady looks confused and walks away quietly.

Nicely done, Dear.

 

Last Day in Hanoi

For our last day in Hanoi, we decided to take it easy as the heat and humidity of the afternoons were starting to wear us down. After a light breakfast at the hotel, we make our way to the Temple of Literature, about 1.7kms away. Although we started early, the humidity had the same idea. As we reached the gates of the Temple and already, we were feeling it.

The Temple of Literature is an actual temple amongst a collection of smaller courtyards and gardens. Flanking both sides of the entire garden are rows of ancient stelae that chronicles the history of education and literature of ancient Vietnam, right down to specific names of those who were successful in achieving the empire's first doctorates back in the early 1600s. Unfortunately for us, most of the translation plaques for the stelae are exclusively in Vietnamese, so we could only piece together some of the information from other signage around the garden.

Still, it was indeed interesting to visit a site with such well documented history. But the heat was getting to both Helen and I, so we left shortly after making a full circuit. Appropriately, we witness a graduating class celebrating by the front gates of the Temple of Literature. How cool is that?

For the rest of the day, Helen and I planned on tracking down a couple of joints that Anthony Bourdain checked out on his last visit to Hanoi: a pho place that he returns to every time he is in town, and a small eatery that only serves one main dish... steamed rice rolls stuffed with seasoned pork and herbs.

As we make our way back to the heart of the Old Quarter, Helen is getting worried that I'm overheating. I felt ok, but apparently I was getting really red. We took the opportunity to duck into a kind of lounge/bar because it looked like they had the air conditioning cranked.

Some of you know that I am a really big Bourdain fan. He is all at once, honest, awkward, self-deprecating, and values the fact that good cuisine is both an art and product of pure hard work. He hates the trendy, cliche, and unsubstantially tacky. I bring this up because this particular establishment is exactly what Bourdain would hate; everything from the faux-French decor, uncoordinated drink menu, and most prominently, the lounge soundtrack of continuous love songs... we're talking the really sappy stuff... the stuff that pretty much made the karaoke industry. Careless Whisper, Right Her Waiting, Endless Love, etc... it was craptastically amazing.

And like Bourdain sometimes does, or has to do when faced with so much tackiness - I embraced it. I thought, "Well we're here... may as well get into it!" So, I went ahead and ordered foofoo drinks to go with the foofoo lounge:

A pina colada and a Blue Hawaiian!

They actually turned out ok... mostly because they were very heavy pours. Nothing like a couple of island drinks to get me over sunstroke.

Moving on, we head straight over for some steamed rice rolls. We snag a table in the tiny eatery and wonder how we can order since we don't speak the language. Luckily, since they don't really serve anything else, Helen throws up two fingers for two orders and they show up momentarily. Helen also notices they have some side dishes to accompany the rice rolls and so she orders some of the roast pork as well... to go with the pork-stuffed rice rolls. That's right...pork on pork action.

These bad boys are tasty indeed. They are similar to the rice rolls you would get at dim sum, but much lighter and more savoury, thanks to the garnish of fried onions and garlic chips. The steamed rice rolls were soft but still retained a slight elasticity, but not so much that you would have to fight it. They were just thick enough to hold the delicious savoury pork filling cooked with what I think is in part, a fish sauce; but thin enough that it does not overpower the rest of the dish with rice flour flavour like at some lesser quality dim sum places. The mint leaves helped brighten each bite and balanced out the savouriness of the filling itself. The fish sauce for dipping with fresh garlic and sliced chilis added another level of umami as well. We found ourselves finishing both plates before we knew it.

And this is where the magic happens:

We decided to leave the pho joint until dinner. We headed back to the hotel to cower from the heat. As the afternoon passed, a thunder shower rolled in and made a real mess of the streets. Helen and I decided to just grab something really quick at the place across from our hotel. Again, it caters to a lot of tourists, so we anticipated compromised versions of what we wanted for our last meal in Hanoi. We were happily surprised.

Helen went for the chicken noodle soup again, while I went with the Saigon Bun Cha; a bowl of rice noodles topped with sliced pork and a garden full of lettuce and herbs. I pour the fish cause over my noodles and instantly smell the saltiness and garlic that makes this Vietnamese staple so inviting. I stuff as much of everything into my first bite and was rewarded. The mint, green onions and cilantro made each bite incredibly herbacious, and held up nicely to the spicy sauce and grilled pork.

I would have cleaned my bowl except we also ordered Hanoi spring rolls and banh xeo; an egg crepe-like omlette filled, in this case, with bean sprouts, shaved white onions, and mung beans.

The server took the time to deomnstrate how to do eat this properly. I've done this a couple of times in places local to Vancouver, and I've seen the lettuce used to wrap the segments of the omlette. Here, there is the added element of rice paper rolls... to which holds the lettuce, mint, then omlette. The whole thing gets rolled in the rice paper, and dipped in another variation of fish sauce, except this time with ginger instead of garlic. Totally satisfying.

To finish my meal, I decided to step it up and throw a spring roll into my roll and tightly wrapped it into a stubby cigar:

Then dipped it into as much sauce as the surface could hold:

Then took it down... took it down to Chinatown...

So, although Helen and I didn't get to try the pho joint we were hunting for earlier in the day, we still had an incredible meal. Prior to this trip, I think I was obsessed with finding the "best of..." or the "most of..." anything. Spending a few days in Hong Kong and Vietnam reminded me that indeed, if you visit places that take pride in their food, and cultivate a culture of sharing that pride, you will eat well pretty much anywhere in the city. And, eat well we did.

Thank you Hanoi for a thoroughly enjoyable few days. We look forward to more of the same (but different) as we move on to Hoi An.