Fretting over dinner has become routine. Travelling alone meant I scarcely felt like walking into a restaurant - single-portioned street food was more appealing to an exhausted ouvrier after 9 hours at work and 2 hours on the road. Laziness meant that I exclusively try stalls within stone’s throw from my place, and I’m quickly running out of options.
Today I noticed a stall that has escaped my morning rampages to try all the bánh mìs on my way to work simply because it never seems to open at 6 in the morning. However as I walked pass I realised that they have just ran out of baguettes… and are taking out trays of fresh-baked baguettes from the oven.
Fresh baked baguettes at 7.30pm could only mean one thing. That it’s some goddamned good bánh mì.
I stood in line for a bánh mì patê thịt gà, and within moments of taking it I tore open the paper wrapping and took a bite.
It was heaven. The still-hot baguette crumbled away, crispy and fluffly, and the delicate mix of chicken liver, cucumber, coriander, hoi sin sauce and chili filled my mouth. I could not stop, it was too good. I finished it within minutes.
Best bánh mì in town. FOUND.