Hanoi Food Tour with Tu Vancong

Today is our long-awaited food tour with a local proprietor and resident, Tu Vancong. He is originally from the central region of Vietnam, not far from Danang. Tu meets us at our hotel lobby just after 9am to start our six-hour private journey through the streets of Hanoi.

 

We hop into a taxi and our first stop is in the West Lake district, north of the Old Quarter, where we are staying. Since pho is considered the national dish of Vietnam, our morning kicks off at one of the many ubiquitous street stands all over Hanoi. However, instead of the beef noodle soup (pho bo) we were expecting, Tu ordered us a fish noodle soup. Like pho bo, the noodles were accompanied with a variety of different items in a hot soup broth; except it was a sweet and briny fish broth cut with the acidity of fresh tomatoes. Unlike the uniform rice noodles we are used to with pho bo, this bowl came with rice noodles and egg noodles; along with fried and steamed fish. Both complimented the broth incredibly well. Helen and I had beef and chicken noodle soup on this trip, and I have to say this was by far my favourite so far.

As well, up until now we have not participated in the street-style plastic seating that is all over this city. This was the first time on our trip where a little plastic table and matching plastic chairs were thrown together within seconds for our dining pleasure. Despite our knapsacks and obvious tourist attire, we felt like locals. I had wondered over the last couple of days as to why vendors collectively choose to use plastic tables and chairs. Is it because they are cheap? Because they take up less space and can fit more patrons? Because they can be easily be moved and shifted around? According to Tu, it's all of the above. Technically, shops are not allowed to serve food on on the street, beyond their storefront. But, to accommodate more business, all the shops use these inexpensive seating arrangements. If the police should come by, one of the neighboring businesses will alert the rest of the street, and the tables and chairs can be easily cleared. Interesting stuff.

As I stuff my face with this delicious noodle, Tu prompts me to slow down as we have many more stops on our tour and much more to eat. Against my instinct to keep sucking this stuff down, I put my chopsticks down and walk away.

We walk down the street a couple of blocks and find ourselves at another storefront with no english signage and internal layout much like many we bypass block after block. Helen and I would never have figured out this is a frozen yogurt joint that serves their own house-made froyo and roast their own coffee beans. Tu ordered us a passion fruit and espresso froyo, and a black coffee for me... (spoiler alert!) this coffee will be important later.

The froyo was awesome. Tangy as a fresh froyo should be, the biggest reason I like Qoola and Pinkberry. The espresso flavour was especially interesting with the chocolatey bitterness of fresh ground beans playing nicely against the tangy yogurt. Yum! Also, the cold dessert was a welcome break from the Hanoi heat.

Then, we walk over to one of Hanoi's most popular temples, built in honour of an ancient citizen who cred and developed the neighboring community. Tu goes on to explain how people pray and why it is important for locals to observe spiritual rituals, despite his own non-belief. Apparently, private prayer dances and holy rituals can cost up to $100,000 USD. Many big businesses pay for them annually to ensure a prosperous business year.

Next, we take a cab to a "wet market." I've heard this term before, but I thought it referred to the river markets in Southeast Asia. But, in fact, a wet market refers to a market that keeps its floors clean with constant washing, making the market "wet." Tu showed us local ingredients and their uses. It was great to have a guide who cooks and can explain the ins and outs of local Hanoi cuisine.

Earlier in the day, I took the opportunity to ask Tu about about all the raw meat that is prepped and laid out on the street. Beef, chicken, pork and fish, just laying there attracting flies and I assume just brewing up bacteria as it sits out in 30+ heat? He says it's safe... he's grown up on this type of meat market. And, granted, Vietnam is home to about 85+ million people. Statistics suggest this food handling practice is indeed ok. But to my Western sensibility, it just does not seem safe. So I think, I'd rather be Westernly ignorant than Easternly sick.

Through the market, we walk across a busy thoroughfare and step up to a charcoal grill joint. Again, not a place Helen and I would have ever entered on our own. And had we not, we would have missed out on one of the greatest things we were privy to on our trip. We walk through a series of different steps and what looks like different storefronts. Not knowing where we are headed, we just follow our guide. As disjointed as the setup looks, the charcoal grill on the street serves the dining room upstairs, which was manned by a 10 year old boy; both efficient and friendly to the customers.

We are seated at a small table, then served bowls of grilled pork meatballs and back bacon sitting in a fish-sauce broth, garnished with green papaya. It was amazing. The pork meatballs were tender to the bite, but extremely smokey from the fresh charcoal grill. The broth/sauce was subtle, sweet and savoury, tasting of shellfish. The papaya pieces, Helen's favourite part of this meal, was crispy, slightly acidic and tangy that cut right through the fat of the grilled bacon and meatballs. The balance of the sweet briny broth and smokey meat made the dish undeniable. Even though I wasn't the slightest bit hungry, I finished most of the bowl, minus a slice of back bacon fat I left floating in the tasty broth.

Over the course of this meal, we talked about our backgrounds and shared a bit of our family histories. Admittedly, I have always been interested in the war that was waged between the south and the north Vietnamese decades ago. Both Tu, and our previous guide Sunny are clear that there was no conflict between the north and the south. It was, on no uncertain terms, the Vietnamese versus the imperial Americans, plain and simple; a very different picture than what we have been taught in North America. I guess this goes to show that there really are three sides to every story: the winner's side, the loser's side, and what actually happened. But, like a true professional, Tu concluded the topic expressing that this is in the far past and not really worth dissecting. Vietnam is clearly on a different path than that of over fifty years ago, so the future does indeed seem bright for its people.

To follow this meal, we wind up about 20mins later at yet another pork noodle stall. We cram onto a full bench of locals, all enjoying this specialized dish of rice noodles in a fish sauce and roasted pork, similar to the Chinese "cha sui." It was indeed very good as all Helen and I could do was share one serving, of which we could not even finish.

At this point, we leave the stall, and I'm stumbling out with a belly over capacity. As we walk down yet another tight corridor lined with shops and eateries, I can recall the overwhleming sound of scooters whizzing by, honking horns, and people shouting at one another. With all my blood working directly on my digestive tract, I felt nothing left in my brain or limbs. Wandering around in this sensory overload, heat and humidity, there was a really good chance I was going to keel over. I soldier on, keeping my growing discomfort to myself, and we end up at a lemon tea joint minutes later.

Again, we get set up with a small plastic table and smaller stools, on a floor full of sunflower seed shells. Apparently, all this place sells is Lipton lemon iced tea with lime... and sell they do... going through hundereds of glasses every day, from a place that seats not more than twenty patrons crammed into a small dining space. Still, the cold tea was a small comfort to my condition. Regardless, Helen seemed to really like the tea.

We move on, and I was really beginning to think I may have a medical emergency on our hands. Walking through yet another market, I was feeling faint from the heat and over-eating, and I was growing short of breath. Then I got the shakes. As bad as it felt, it also seemed familiar. Re-enter... the coffee. I had the earlier coffee, black, which made it extra potent. Along with being so full, I realized that I was going through a caffine crash. Surprisingly, realizing that relieved me from the anxiety that I may have been going through something worse. I slowly started to feel better after that.

Our next stops were a fresh fruit cafe, which we had to take as take-out cups. Neither Helen or I could eat another morsel.

However, even though I suggested we cut the tour early, Tu insists since we are at the last stop anyway, we need to try the crab cakes and fresh eel stirfy with glass noodle. To be honest, at this point the mere thought of eating any more made me feel sick again while I was starting to feel better.

We followed Tu, into a crevass of an alley. If it was just Helen and I, we would have definitely walked right by it. At the end of this corridor/alley, there is actually a well-hidden eatery:

In this tiny kitchen, these ladies turn out some tasty food. We tuck into some crab cakes (really it is fried crab paste), but with the chili sauce, it was quite good. Then came a "small" plate of stir-fried glass noodles, interlaced with fresh eel. It too was done well. You will need to forgive my lack to detail at this point of the tour. My mind really wasn't processing much, other than keeping myself from passing out. In the few bites we had, I do remember the dishes to be well done. More than that, it was neat to be dining in a place far off the beaten path.

I stumble up to our room and basically zonk out. THIS is what happens when you eat substantially every 20 to 30mins over a 6-hour period:

And so ends our tour that gave us an insightful glimpse into the culinary culture of Hanoi. Again, we really appreciated that our guide not only talked to us about food, but the people who make up this intriguing city. Having wandered around in many other neighborhoods during this tour than what Helen and I had originally explored, one thing is consistant: Hanoi is a city with a collective pride and inclination to maintain their long history and traditions. So much so, that the people's commitment to their culture seems to have successfully kept commercial and industrial developments at bay. As much as name brand stores can be found on any given street in Hanoi, they are far outnumbered by the local shops and temples that give this city such a unique and timeless feel. It is no wonder that UNESCO has recognized so many aspects of this city as World Heritage sites. As much as I wish this city all the prosperity that it deserves, I really hope it doesn't follow other towns that have been overtaken purely by commercial interests.