It’s our last day in Hanoi. Even though we haven’t seen most of the main tourist attractions, we decided to go back to the Old Quarter and just hang out. But first, I’m taking an early-morning walk that, unbeknownst to me, is going to lead me to my first breakfast bánh mì.
Early Morning Walk
When we’re traveling in some far-away place, I like to take an early-morning walk around whatever neighborhood we happen to be in. When you’re walking around in a foreign city early in the morning, you see a slice of life that you don’t see later in the day.
Most shops, other than bakeries, won’t be open yet. Some shop-owners will be setting things out front, getting ready to open. No matter how early you go, the produce guys will be putting their fruit and veggies out on display. Just about everyone else you see is on their way to work. They’re going through their daily routine, stopping at their regular place for coffee or grabbing a quick bite.
I decided to walk down a ways on the road we came in on when we first arrived. I hadn’t gone very far when a flurry of activity on the other side of the road caught my eye. It was a bánh mì stand, nestled in a nook on the roadside. I watched while motorbike after motorbike pulled up, stopped for two or three minutes, then took off down the road, breakfast in hand.
Bánh mì sandwiches usually consist of pork, pickled carrot and dikon, maybe a slice of paté, cilantro, jalepeno, and special sauce inside a baguette. I love ’em. But a “breakfast bánh mì”? Never heard of it.
Why Did the Tourist Cross the Road?
I was interested, but to get there, I had to cross a busy street. And I had a great, already-paid-for breakfast buffet waiting for me back at the hotel. On the other hand, if I didn’t check this out, I’d be regretting it on the long flight home. The decision was easy. But now I had to cross the road.
Xuân Diệu Road is busy this time of the morning. It’s only a two-lane road, but this is Hanoi, so two lanes ends up being closer to three or four lanes of motorbikes. It was busy with commuters making their way in to work. I’m sure they didn’t want to be slowed down by an obviously-must-be-lost tourist wandering around in the middle of traffic. Oh well!
My first thought went back to our street-crossing lessons as taught by the fearless Lemon. My next thought was, if I get hit crossing the street, how would anyone know where I came from? But then I figured they’d correctly assume that this foreign guy must have wandered off from the hotel nearby. He had probably forgotten to take his meds or something.
Anyway, it was time to make my move. Per “Lemon’s Laws,” I waited until almost all of the traffic consisted of motorbikes – no cars or trucks. (That didn’t take long). Then I was off.
I walked toward the oncoming traffic at a steady pace, trying to make eye contact with the riders closest to me. As if by magic, everyone went around me, one by one, on one side or another. I emerged on the other side of the road, unscathed. Life is good! Now for breakfast!
I found myself face to face with a little lady sitting on tiny plastic stool under a weather-beaten umbrella. She was nestled in her makeshift “kitchen” the way a fighter pilot is nestled in a cockpit. Everything she needed – burner, grill, egg supply, plastic containers of condiments, baguettes – was within arm’s reach.
Breakfast Bánh Mì
She looked up and gave me a “Well, what’ll it be, sonny boy?” look. I could see that this would be an all-hand-signals ordering session. I used my index finger to suggest, “One bánh mì, please.”
One-by-one, she pointed at things to ask what I wanted on my bánh mì. Egg? Yes. Sausage? Oh yes. (I didn’t see “sausage” coming as an option). Veggie mix that looked really delicious? Yes. Wicked-looking peppers? No thank you. Strange-looking stuff that looked really nasty? No thanks. Special sauce? Yes, please. OK. We were in business.
She cooked the egg in a small pan on the burner while she split the sausage and heated it on the grill. Then she assembled everything into a warm baguette to create a beautiful work of bánh mì art. The whole operation took her about two minutes.
Now it was time to pay. I held out some money. She took some and then gave me some back. I said what I thought was “thank you” in Vietnamese, and she said what I thought I recognized as “you’re welcome.” Then I was on my way.
Now, like a red-tailed hawk that had just caught a field mouse, I had to find someplace to devour my “catch.” I re-crossed Xuân Diệu Road – again without incident! –and found a lakeside café.
I ordered a coffee, sat at a table in the shade of a tree by the lake, and savored my breakfast bánh mì. Without going on too much about it, I have to say that was one of my favorite breakfasts ever.
To be continued…
Note: The photo at the top of the post isn’t of my breakfast bánh mì. I didn’t take my camera or phone on my walk that day. Sigh.
