Colorful fruit stands are everywhere throughout the country
Vietnam is on just about every serious travelling foodie’s “must visit” list—this country produces some of the best food in the world, and it can be found everywhere. In the civilized restaurant, down the adjoining alleyway, across in the park, cycling past coming out of a basket, or even grilling on the roadside—as a tourist, you’d really struggle to go hungry here. There’s something for everyone. And I came determined to try it all.
I’d arrived in Vietnam vowing to go native. No western restaurants, no forks or knives; I wanted the full Vietnamese food experience—market stalls, road-side cookouts, mobile kitchens, chopsticks, the works. I’d go in search of my morning pho, because that’s what all the locals did. Throughout the course of the day wandering around Saigon’s many sights I’d succumb to the odd coconut, or fruit smoothie, or fresh-pressed sugar cane juice. I found the most delicious treat I think I’ve ever had, ever, outside the central bus station in the middle of Saigon—a tapioca-textured, mildly sweet type of bean curd, scooped into a cup, drenched in thick, syrupy green tea and topped with coconut cream. Every mouthful was like a serenade for my taste buds. I never usually eat desserts, and typically stay away from anything with refined sugar, but man this was good. I couldn’t get enough.
She served up the magical bean curd/coconut smothered sweet heaven!
As I soon discovered, the Vietnamese like everything sweet. Morning coffee, if not ordered black, is taken with sweetened-condensed milk. If you order a coffee with milk expecting an au-lait or latte, you’ll get this almost sickly sugary concoction instead. If you want a western coffee, you must specify that it be made with fresh milk, but many of the local places don’t even stock the stuff. Smoothies are available everywhere courtesy of mobile smoothie-making women (who even have battery powered blenders), but granulated sugar is normally added, adulterating (in my mind) one of my favorite drinks. Yogurt comes in one flavor (sweetened), and ice cream is available in Styrofoam buckets everywhere. Avocado—considered a fruit here—is mashed with either sweet yogurt or milk and served as an appetizer. Puffed pastries contain heavenly custards, and everyone and their mother is trying to sell you any brand of the local packaged candies (or imported Oreos). I could just about feel a cavity starting to form, about as rapidly as I was expecting my waistline was expanding.
The internationally-famous "lunch lady" of Saigon. Deservedly good reputation. Noodles to die for.
It wasn’t just all the added sugar that was contributing to the tightening of my shorts. It’s something I’m so confounded by, I’d write a PhD thesis on the subject if I ever went back to grad school: how Vietnamese women (and even most men) stay rail thin, while dining on noodles at least once per day. Everywhere I walked I saw people slurping and scarfing noodles at a rate even the Italian in me struggled to keep pace with. After just a week of the added sugar and noodle diet, I had developed, most definitely, a noodle gut. I needed to change tactics. No more going native, I decided—let the Vietnamese keep their secrets of eating all this fine food and staying stick thin.
My new routine consisted of one I was more familiar with at home—freshly carved pineapple for breakfast, bought from one of the local markets (still my favorite place), plus the addition of other fresh fruits throughout the day. And at the market stalls, to keep from missing out on all the amazing flavors and even the experience of market-stall dining, I began to do something highly unconventional (and quite possibly offensive to the chef…): I ordered the meal, sans noodles. Bean sprouts, different greens, all the same meats, spices, sauces, etc went into my bowl, but no more noodles. I was cut off. I had to! There was little point in having clothes custom made for me in Hoi An, as I heard was possible, if I was going to be fatter than normal.
Fresh "nem"--unfried spring rolls. Sooo good....
I’ve since decided that it’s possible to go native in a new country with food as famed as in Vietnam without gaining 45 pounds around the middle. Above all, you can’t eat like you’re on vacation, unless you’re doing enough physical activity to warrant it (ie hiking Kilimanjaro or something similarly active). I’ve continued to do some pilates when and where I can, and have gone on the occasional run. I’m not letting my deep infatuation with Vietnamese food get the best of me, much as I’d love it to. And I’m also not so sure I’d be able to wrangle another pro-bono visit to the dentist to fix the cavities all the sugar would have formed, had I kept that habit up as well. Even during my short time here I’ve experienced being adopted by locals in various places, who seem to only want to feed me. Perhaps that is something that the Vietnamese and Italian heritage share in common; a desire to feed and keep guests happy. For now though, I’m going to need to avoid this trend and commence operation reversal of noodle gut.
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You should have titled this, “Noodling about Saigon.” Great story…need pho here in Malibu instead of the chi-chi, expensive stuff. I love the Noodle Lady. She is beautiful.
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