As soon as we landed in Hoi An, a city 1 1/2 hours south of Hanoi by air, we knew we were in for something different. Our coats and layers from the north were quickly shed to adapt to the much warmer temperatures. Outside of the Old Town the area reminded me of parts of Haiti, underdeveloped with lots of dirt roads. The Old Town, however, is a beautifully preserved area of a trading port dating from the 15th century. During the 19th century, the mouth of the river silted over, effectively shutting down Hoi An as a trading port. Fortuitously, this allowed Hoi An to be spared any bombing during the Vietnam War, keeping much of the original architecture intact and displaying the many foreign influences as a major international trading port back in the day.
After oohing and aahing at our very comfortable suite overlooking the Thu Bon River, we headed across the river into the Old Town to visit one of Hoi An’s many tailor shops. Hoi An is well known for its bespoke tailor and leather shops. Some of the nicer shops were closed already for the coming Lunar New Year, but we settled on a well-reviewed shop called ‘Kimmy’s.’ It’s a real operation in there where the salesladies most likely work on commission. Philip and I brought in a few pieces we wanted copied, and luckily, we were very decisive on fabric choices or else you could easily lose a day in one of these places. I’m still amazed at how faithfully everything was copied, and the workmanship was much better than I had expected.
Now, the food. One of the Old Town’s most famous food spots is called Banh Mi Phuong, serving up the ubiquitous Vietnamese sandwiches, banh mi. We ordered three different varieties, but the real star of the show was the house special: pork liver pate, handmade mayonnaise, pork floss, grilled pork, head cheese, pork patty, pickled papaya, sliced cucumber and tomato, cilantro, spring onion, mint and Madam Phuong’s special sauce all stuffed into Madam Phuong’s freshly baked baguette, cooked next door. Hmm, why does this taste so salty? Oh, it’s because of all the tears I’ve shed onto my banh mi from experiencing pure food ecstasy and from realizing that what I’ve been eating until now is merely a stunted version of true banh mi.
After one of the most satisfying lunches I’ve had in my life we strolled around the farmers’ markets in the Old Town, soaking in the charm of the mustard-colored buildings and old Chinese teahouses alongside the river. Charming until the sun started to set. Suddenly, I felt like I was trapped in the ghost world of Miyazaki’s film ‘Spirited Away’ where humans turn into beasts at sunset. The strings of multi-colored lanterns seemed to illuminate the worst behaviors of tourists. Bars with glaring, neon lights in English blasting techno music filled up with Westerners who should have known better and splurged on the SPF50. A fleet of tour buses unleashed its hordes of selfie stick-wielding lemmings jostling each other to get a shot of some contrived, garish piece of tourist fluff. Calgon, take me away!
Thankfully, we found oasis down a little alley to arrive at Nu Eatery for our dinner reservation. Nu Eatery had me at tile floor. Design wise, I loved every part of this restaurant — tiled floors, wall paint color, glassware, quaint little nooks…. Given the relatively high prices of the food I didn’t expect to see many locals here, but I decided to take a risk given the quality of reviews despite our previous ‘banh cuon situation,’ as Jules coined it. Well, there’s something to be said about second chances.
The pomelo, calamari, onion and peanut butter salad was one of the best dishes that Philip and I have ever had…everrrrr! We gobbled this dish down so quickly that I didn’t even have a chance to photograph it. The other dishes were good, but this salad was tough to beat. Then, dessert came. I’m not sure how the chef achieved this, but he somehow managed to infuse the soul of lemongrass into ice cream. I practically had to pick Jules up off the floor after one bite.
Hmm, maybe dealing with bad tourists is a small price to pay for access to foodtopia.
