Vietnam
Herbs by the fistful, broth simmered overnight, and a country that eats best on a plastic kerbside stool.
Dawn in Hanoi and the phở stall is already busy — a vat of beef broth that has simmered all night, ladled over rice noodles, brightened with a fistful of herbs, a wedge of lime and a slick of chilli you tear and add yourself. You eat it hunched on a plastic stool barely off the pavement, and it may be the best thing you eat all trip.
Vietnamese food runs on balance — salty fish sauce, sour lime, sweet, hot, and the green freshness of herbs, all held in tension on every plate. Travel the length of the country and it shifts under you: fierce, imperial cooking in Huế; the sweeter, coconut-rich south; and everywhere the legacy of France reworked into something better, the bánh mì — a crackling baguette packed with pâté, pickles and coriander. Grab a stool, point at whatever smells good, and let the kerb feed you.
- phở (beef noodle soup)
- bánh mì (filled baguette)
- bún chả (grilled pork & noodles)
- gỏi cuốn (fresh spring rolls)
- bún bò Huế (spicy beef noodles)
- cà phê sữa đá (iced coffee)