Hoi An is a place that we could never find a bad meal. Besides Brother Cafe on our first night, we reserved a table at Cafe Des Amis on our second night - good foresight as it was packed at dinnertime. Situated by the riverside near the market, the 2-level crowded Euro-Asian joint offered a choice of 3 daily-changing vegetarian, meat or seafood set dinners (US$12 each), crafted by the amicable chef-owner. We slurped a seafood congee-ish soup starter, followed by the tiniest ricecakes with meat toppings, veggy springrolls, stir-fried greens and French egg custard.
When in Vietnam, a bowl of
pho bo is a must. I could still recall my first delicious bowl In Hanoi as Fatty and I sat on low seats slurping our S$1 pho. The one at the popular 75-year old Pho Lien (25 Le Loi)at Hoian was slightly different from that of Hanoi. Here, the rice noodles were more al dente, even slightly undercooked but nonetheless divine swimming in a light flavourful beef stock. I braved the otah-like pork sausage wrapped in leaves which turned out to be wonderful.
Across Pho Lien, Ah Ma and mom (both non beef-eaters) got a taste of getting down to it and sat on low stools with the locals at a roadside noodle stall for the beehoon in chicken soup. Not far away at the junction of Le Loi and Tran Hung Dao was a popular outdoor beer garden which doubled up as a morning meeting place for locals (you can't miss the huge communist-style poster). Here, we sipped on strong expresso shots served with an equal amount of diabetic sweet condensed milk in a squat tequila glass for only S$0.30 each!
Next to it, we had a cheap and generous local feast at Canh Buom Trang, a neighbourhood eatery flanked by a blaring tv and several fish tanks. The friendly and patient staff stuffed us with rice paper rolls, seafood hotpots, 2 live garoupas (hammered on their heads before our very eyes as proof of freshness), steamed green eggplant with fish sauce, fried pork with lemongrass and rice (US$44). We also happened to peep into a room full of seamstresses working around the clock, a behind-the-scene that few realised.
In the hot afternoon, Tam Tam Cafe with an adjoining bakery was an ideal spot for some very strong coffee, decadent tiramisu cake, croissant and apricot tart. Aunt, sis and I couldn't resist buying more French pastries to take away for our excursion. Life slowed down to such a languid pace that we had time to watch the world go by, especially the elegant teenage girls in their
ao dai and chirpy school kids returning home on their oversized bicycles.
If you had the chance, pop into the renowned Cargo Club restaurant (& cooking school) opposite Tam Tam Cafe, where lunch (US$38) was a sumptuous spread of tomato-tofu soup, stirfried vermicelli, Cao Lau, 'white rose', spring rolls, tom yam kung, excellent grilled squid and a personal treat of mojito.
These places are generally packed with tourists but if you're game for street food, there were roving hawkers (sempre le donne!) squatting over their grilled satays of marinated pork. Vendors also peddled steamed peanuts, seasonal fruits, rice cakes, desserts and newspapers from door to door. It was almost impossible to go hungry.
What I most admired about Hoi An was that history is not just a thing of the past but still a living reminder of its present and future. It was untainted by modernity yet able to remain true to itself and sustain a quality living by doing what they do best. And at times, I've never seen such pride and contentment in the eyes of weary city-dwellers from supposedly richer countries. When the locals found out where we're from, their natural reply was "Oh Singapore? It's very clean", to which I cringed a bit. One wonders if 'clean' should be taken as a compliment versus 'uniquely'.
On the 3rd day, we took a break from the Old Town and bundled everyone on an eco tour with the affable Khoa (same age as my sis), his father Viet and younger cousin on their big fishing boat. My sis had taken their tour before when she was staying at the luxurious Victoria Hotel last year and predicted that dad would love the slow cruise. And she was right - he got on like fire with Khoa's father and took to the boat like one of the crew.
www.hoianecotour.com 
Dad was most comfortable peddling the tricky round basket boat called 'thung cai' while the rest of us yelled our heads off just spinning in circles! These little buggers were so hard to manouveur! Besides learning about local fishing practices, we also spent a leisure, serene boat ride inside the lush coconut palm canal. Ah Ma nearly fell off the tiny boat while aunt-in-law clung tightly to a child's life vest!
Khoa gave us an insight into the brutality of war between Vietnam and America; where brave and resourceful Northern Army soldiers hid themselves among the thick palms and even underneath the water (like how they did with the Cu chi tunnels on land). Many lives were lost when the invaders carpet bombed the whole area in a desperate bid to drive out the resilient armies.
When it was time for lunch, Mr Viet worked swiftly behind his steer and put the finishing touches to a sumptuous spread, prepared by his wife who also run 'The End Of The World' restaurant located at the small Phuoc Hai fishing village. Who would imagine we could feast so well on a boat parked in the middle of nowhere with no kitchen in sight? First they fried the crispy mini spring rolls for starters and served them with a sweet-spicy dip and cold local birra.
Then I salivated as they unveiled the gigantic stuffed squids swimming in their delightful stew and proceeded to sliced them up to reveal the stuffing of tentacles, peanuts and vegetables. Oh, we were in heaven. When the angmohs didn't finish them (they looked a bit tentative about the squids), we polished off their share as well. Heh-heh. Waste not, want not.
Then the fresh king prawns, simply boiled, were up and we proudly sucked the prawn heads dry before the next course arrived. As you could imagine, I was the only one snopping around at the back of the steer, poking my camera at every chance. Khoa's dad taught us how to roll the crispy thin egg pancake tightly with some fresh vegs in rice paper like cigars. It was soooo good I ate 3!
Dessert was a mini sticky rice dumpling with a sweet-salty bean stuffing wrapped in leaf - so satisfying that we had triple servings. On our last day, the ever-thoughtful Khoa packed a bag of these dumplings for us to take home but we wiped out them and 5 baguettes before our flight! Everyone agreed that this was easily our best meal in Vietnam. Burp.
Hoi An is a place that we could never find a bad meal. Besides Brother Cafe on our first night, we reserved a table at Cafe Des Amis on our second night - good foresight as it was packed at dinnertime. Situated by the riverside near the market, the 2-level crowded Euro-Asian joint offered a choice of 3 daily-changing vegetarian, meat or seafood set dinners (US$12 each), crafted by the amicable chef-owner. We slurped a seafood congee-ish soup starter, followed by the tiniest ricecakes with meat toppings, veggy springrolls, stir-fried greens and French egg custard. 
When in Vietnam, a bowl of pho bo is a must. I could still recall my first delicious bowl In Hanoi as Fatty and I sat on low seats slurping our S$1 pho. The one at the popular 75-year old Pho Lien (25 Le Loi)at Hoian was slightly different from that of Hanoi. Here, the rice noodles were more al dente, even slightly undercooked but nonetheless divine swimming in a light flavourful beef stock. I braved the otah-like pork sausage wrapped in leaves which turned out to be wonderful. 
Across Pho Lien, Ah Ma and mom (both non beef-eaters) got a taste of getting down to it and sat on low stools with the locals at a roadside noodle stall for the beehoon in chicken soup. Not far away at the junction of Le Loi and Tran Hung Dao was a popular outdoor beer garden which doubled up as a morning meeting place for locals (you can't miss the huge communist-style poster). Here, we sipped on strong expresso shots served with an equal amount of diabetic sweet condensed milk in a squat tequila glass for only S$0.30 each! 
Next to it, we had a cheap and generous local feast at Canh Buom Trang, a neighbourhood eatery flanked by a blaring tv and several fish tanks. The friendly and patient staff stuffed us with rice paper rolls, seafood hotpots, 2 live garoupas (hammered on their heads before our very eyes as proof of freshness), steamed green eggplant with fish sauce, fried pork with lemongrass and rice (US$44). We also happened to peep into a room full of seamstresses working around the clock, a behind-the-scene that few realised.
In the hot afternoon, Tam Tam Cafe with an adjoining bakery was an ideal spot for some very strong coffee, decadent tiramisu cake, croissant and apricot tart. Aunt, sis and I couldn't resist buying more French pastries to take away for our excursion. Life slowed down to such a languid pace that we had time to watch the world go by, especially the elegant teenage girls in their ao dai and chirpy school kids returning home on their oversized bicycles.
If you had the chance, pop into the renowned Cargo Club restaurant (& cooking school) opposite Tam Tam Cafe, where lunch (US$38) was a sumptuous spread of tomato-tofu soup, stirfried vermicelli, Cao Lau, 'white rose', spring rolls, tom yam kung, excellent grilled squid and a personal treat of mojito.
These places are generally packed with tourists but if you're game for street food, there were roving hawkers (sempre le donne!) squatting over their grilled satays of marinated pork. Vendors also peddled steamed peanuts, seasonal fruits, rice cakes, desserts and newspapers from door to door. It was almost impossible to go hungry. 
What I most admired about Hoi An was that history is not just a thing of the past but still a living reminder of its present and future. It was untainted by modernity yet able to remain true to itself and sustain a quality living by doing what they do best. And at times, I've never seen such pride and contentment in the eyes of weary city-dwellers from supposedly richer countries. When the locals found out where we're from, their natural reply was "Oh Singapore? It's very clean", to which I cringed a bit. One wonders if 'clean' should be taken as a compliment versus 'uniquely'.
On the 3rd day, we took a break from the Old Town and bundled everyone on an eco tour with the affable Khoa (same age as my sis), his father Viet and younger cousin on their big fishing boat. My sis had taken their tour before when she was staying at the luxurious Victoria Hotel last year and predicted that dad would love the slow cruise. And she was right - he got on like fire with Khoa's father and took to the boat like one of the crew. www.hoianecotour.com 
Dad was most comfortable peddling the tricky round basket boat called 'thung cai' while the rest of us yelled our heads off just spinning in circles! These little buggers were so hard to manouveur! Besides learning about local fishing practices, we also spent a leisure, serene boat ride inside the lush coconut palm canal. Ah Ma nearly fell off the tiny boat while aunt-in-law clung tightly to a child's life vest! 
Khoa gave us an insight into the brutality of war between Vietnam and America; where brave and resourceful Northern Army soldiers hid themselves among the thick palms and even underneath the water (like how they did with the Cu chi tunnels on land). Many lives were lost when the invaders carpet bombed the whole area in a desperate bid to drive out the resilient armies. 
When it was time for lunch, Mr Viet worked swiftly behind his steer and put the finishing touches to a sumptuous spread, prepared by his wife who also run 'The End Of The World' restaurant located at the small Phuoc Hai fishing village. Who would imagine we could feast so well on a boat parked in the middle of nowhere with no kitchen in sight? First they fried the crispy mini spring rolls for starters and served them with a sweet-spicy dip and cold local birra. 
Then I salivated as they unveiled the gigantic stuffed squids swimming in their delightful stew and proceeded to sliced them up to reveal the stuffing of tentacles, peanuts and vegetables. Oh, we were in heaven. When the angmohs didn't finish them (they looked a bit tentative about the squids), we polished off their share as well. Heh-heh. Waste not, want not. 
Then the fresh king prawns, simply boiled, were up and we proudly sucked the prawn heads dry before the next course arrived. As you could imagine, I was the only one snopping around at the back of the steer, poking my camera at every chance. Khoa's dad taught us how to roll the crispy thin egg pancake tightly with some fresh vegs in rice paper like cigars. It was soooo good I ate 3! 
Dessert was a mini sticky rice dumpling with a sweet-salty bean stuffing wrapped in leaf - so satisfying that we had triple servings. On our last day, the ever-thoughtful Khoa packed a bag of these dumplings for us to take home but we wiped out them and 5 baguettes before our flight! Everyone agreed that this was easily our best meal in Vietnam. Burp.
No comments:
Post a Comment