March 2016 in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City)
And you thought you had it all figured out, but then, one day a stranger crosses your path … and your life will never be the same again. The course of your life will take another route. And if you’re lucky, really lucky, magic can happen. Just like in fairy tales. For better or for worse.
Meet Anthony Bourdain, a chef from New York City and a host of the world’s best gig – a travel and food show No Reservtions. His contribution to the show is to travel the world, to eat and to comment on the food he eats. It doesn’t get better than that. Oh, how I’d love that job.
So, he visits better or less known establishments or hidden culinary gems all over the world to taste (and hopefully enjoy) the local cuisine. And taste he does.
In one episode, he visited a street corner stall in Saigon. The stall was run and managed single-handed by one very determined local lady for the past 20 years. Every morning, for 20 years, she’s been taking the same road to the market to pick the best, the tastiest and the freshest ingredients for lunch she would cook that day in her made shift kitchen on one of the street corners. A soup of the day was on the menu. Every day. 100 portions of it. Different soup each day depending on the ingredients she brought back from the market.
The locals loved her cooking. It didn’t take long for the word to spread out in the neighborhood about her heavenly tasty soup. The customers came running queuing up long before she opened for business to make sure to get their bowl of yummies. For once the 100th portion was gone there was no more. The lunch was over and the kitchen closed for the day.
Like the locals, Bourdain was also very impressed. Not only did he love the soup, but it was the best one he ever had. He nicknamed it ‘the best soup in the world’ and the lady ‘the Lunch Lady“. (And, btw, Vietnamese food he nicknamed the best food in the world).
The Lunch Lady or rather her soup became my obsession. I just had to have it. So much so that it also has changed the course of my life. My search for paradise in Panama had to wait. I had to taste that soup first (along with other Vietnamese ‘best dishes in the world’). Period. I had to go to East… en route West. I had to go to Vietnam.
Going to Vietnam just for a bowl of soup seemed a bit extreme, so I made the whole trip out of it, starting in Hanoi and then working my way 2000 km South to Saigon and the street corner where the Lunch Lady resided.
2000 km takes time and requires a few stops. One stop on my way South was a foodie town of Hoi An. And, it was in Hoi An and not in Saigon that I had my first brush with the power of fairy tale wand when I run into the lucky ones (?) who had their path crossed by a stranger and the course of their lives changed in the process.
One day I visited a sandwich bar selling Vietnamese bánh mì. Bánh mì is the most common sandwich in Vietnam (mini baguette with chicken/meat/veg/salad filling) sold on every single corner. But this shop was different. Not only was the shop full of customers even though it was after 2 p.m., time when restaurants close after lunch, but there were people queuing outside to get in. Not only some 10 or more staff were serving customers on the location but also taking in phone orders for home delivery. Busy, busy, busy. A beehive.
Why was that shop so different from thousands of other identical shops? One celeb visit. This is all it took. Anthony Bourdain had a sandwich there once and liked it. One visit, one opinion, one mention on the show, and then one magic wand did the rest. A regular sandwich became the best Bánh mì in town (or was it in Vietnam?) while, what used to be, a 2×2.5 meter hole in the wall became a goldmine.
I had a sandwich too, how could I not, but am reluctant to second it was the best sandwich I ever had. I found it no better (or worse) than sandwiches in other places. Hmmm. Hmmm. Hmmm.
When the time to taste the Lunch Lady’s famous soup had finally arrived, I got cold feet. Should I go? Why not just leave it as is – a lovely dream? If not lovely so at least tasty? I felt deep down in my gut I should just let it be. I felt I would be disappointed. As in Hoi An. What happens if you achieve your dream and discover you no longer want it? I’d rather have an unfulfilled dream than a crashed one.
The more I thought about turning around the more I liked it and soon romanticized the whole idea. Chasing a dream, changing the course of life for a dream but then right on the finish line turning on the heel and walking away from it was very appealing.
I confided in some friends my dilemma. But they wouldn’t have it. “Of course you must go”, they all said in one voice. So I went.
The Lunch Lady’s corner was in another district of town and I took a better part of an hour to walk there. I was worried (or was I hoping?) I may not find it. I was worried (or hoping?) I may not tell the difference between that corner and thousands of other corners that look exactly the same. Well, I needn’t worry. That corner cannot be easily missed.
Nor did I need to worry (or hope for) if there still will be any soup left for me by the time I arrive. I came late, very late. Well past 2 p.m. To my surprise the place was still open, and the lunch was served. “The times they are changin”. Big time.
– These days the Lunch Lady never runs out of soup or anything else for that matter.
– These days the Lunch Lady serves, in addition to the soup, other dishes
– These days the Lunch Lady doesn’t limit the cooking to 100 portions of soup a day.
– These days the Lunch Lady doesn’t close the shop when the 100th bowl of soup is consumed but runs her business from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. or until the last customers have left premises.
– These days the Lunch Lady does not serve to locals only but also to dozens of tourists who visit this part of town every day looking for her.
– These days the Lunch Lady doesn’t cook alone but has the whole family and extra staff working for her.
– These days the Lunch Lady no longer runs a street-food-stand, one of the thousands in Saigon but the one and only The-Lunch-Lady-Brand
– These days the Lunch Lady is running a multi-million enterprise. And not in dong only.
As soon as I arrived and got seated a plate of spring rolls appeared from nowhere. Warning bells set off right away as only tourists were served the rolls without having to order them. Tourist trap. All the tourists were accepting the rolls thinking they accompany the soup but they don’t. They are extra, cost extra and are more expensive than the soup itself. Brilliant way to make extra money on tourists. Just say ‘No, thank you’ if you don’t like to have them and they will disappear as swiftly as they appeared.
After a while, the food arrived. Dry food. No soup that day. The dish was quite tasty but nothing special to write home about. Definitely not the best in the world. I ate it, said thank you and left.
Only to be back the next day. Not really sure why. Perhaps I thought I still had some unfinished business to do.
No spring rolls, I guess I have already become a regular. The soup only. Yes, the famous soup. Not sure though if it was exactly the same soup as Bourdain had or even the least similar. Mine was terrible. Plain awful. Drenched in acid. Uneatable. Had a couple of spoons and left the rest untouched. Perhaps I should have had those rolls after all.
With no soup to eat and nothing else to do, I sat there, on a plastic chair under a tree, watching, contemplating, observing, chatting with other guests sharing my table and then, after a while, even talking with the Lunch Lady.
Ah, the Lunch Lady. What will the neighbors say? Yes, there are at least four, five other hacks on that corner and still plenty more just around the corner(s). But she’s got the best spot, right in the middle, claiming the largest area, most visible, and above all the shiniest of them all – and she is not too shy to show it all off. The Lunch Lady has become the Bling, Bling Lady.
Dozens of western tourists come every day. She all smiles then. All tentacles are out. As soon as she hears a camera click, the smile goes on. She’s learned few phrases in many languages and charms impressed visitors conversing in their own language. What a coquette, what a businesswoman, what a master of self-promotion, what a smooth operator.
What a spectacular show. Clockwork an army style. Everyone knows exactly what to do when and how. When to take selfies with tourists, when to socialize, when to smile, what to say and in which language, when and what to serve, when to bill. Lunch lady’s husband and partner in crime is in charge of bbq and money collection which he later promptly hands over to his wife. (Not that it matters) but there is no doubt in my mind who wears pants in that family. She is the master planner, the deal maker, the banker, the investor, the politician, the diplomat, the actress, the mother, the grandmother and … surprise, surprise … still the cook – manicured one but cook nonetheless. She knows better than to let someone else make her soup.
It was only two, three years ago that the Lunch Lady was serving 100 bowls of soup a day to local customers. Yet it feels like another time, another life, another era, another planet. Most probably she would still be serving her 100 bowls of soup even today if not Anthony Bourdain, a perfect stranger, happened to cross her path and by doing so completely changed her course of life.
Today the Lunch Lady is still serving her soup. The soup may be the same but this is no longer the same lady. No longer one of the thousands but one of a kind. The one and only the-Lunch-Lady-Brand. And the money is rolling in.
I don’t regret visiting her or tasting her soup – not for a minute. But sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t have been wiser to keep that dream alive. Perhaps not all dreams are meant to come true.
So what about the ‘other’ Vietnamese food, the one that is also supposed to be the best in the world? What can I say? Not a fan. With one exception – Hoi An. Lovely place, diverse and unique food only served in that region, amazing street food, great gourmet restaurants. A real heaven on Earth – for foodies.
And what about Saigon? Not a fan either. 50 shades of grey? Is it enough? 100?
What does it mean when newlyweds take pictures in front of (newly renovated) post office? Is the post office the hottest building in town?
I found Saigon, or rather Ho Chi Minh City as it is called today grey and unattractive. Hectic, hot and humid city of 9 million people, 9 million mopeds, and 100 million rats. Not much to see or do … unless you are a gentleman of a certain age looking for a local lady of a certain age.
Saigon wasn’t really my cup of tea. Sadly, neither was Vietnam and nor was Vietnamese food. Vietnam didn’t live up to its hyped reputation. But perhaps I didn’t see the real Vietnam. Apparently one needs to go inland to appreciate the country. I didn’t do that. Instead, I cut my visit short and set for Cambodia. Via Mekong Delta of course.
Still glad I went. Glad I tried. So glad I tasted. I know now for sure that I know. Or maybe I just think I do. Well, I had a dream once … maybe it is time for another one?
Saigon in Pictures
