Long have I dreamed about the perfect Banh Mi, with the crisp crunchy baguette, pointy at the ends, the smear of pate, dibble of soy and roasting liquor, sliced of roast pork, ham, minced pork, the vegetable pickles, herbs and that sweet, powerful Hoi An chilli.
The saddest part for me is that I have eaten it already, years ago in Hoi An. It was made by an old guy, with those wispy chin hairs and a naughty grin. His rickety little cart parked on a corner of the old town had a frequent traffic of punters, as his daughter opened the little charcoal heated box to add or remove another few rolls her dad worked away.
Of course I looked, and there was a cart selling Banh Mi on the corner where his once sat. They weren’t as good, but then I doubted that I will ever have one as good as that again.
Well, no harm in trying some of the best rated in town…