SAIGON CULINARY ADVENTURE
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| 19th Dec 2025 |
December 19, 2025
The anxiety of yesterday had settled into a cautious curiosity. I started the day with the complimentary breakfast at the Na Nue Hotel—budget travel rule number one: never skip the free meal—but my stomach was barely ready for the marathon of flavors awaiting it.
I stepped out into the District 1 morning, navigating by Google Maps and sheer will. The traffic here hits different; it is a living, breathing organism. Crossing the street requires a leap of faith, a steady pace, and hyper-awareness as a river of motorbikes and cars flows around you like water around a stone.
The Hidden Gem & The Friday Menu
At 9:00 AM, with thirty minutes to spare before my class, I stumbled upon a hidden gem opposite the cooking school. It was time for my first real Egg Coffee. I sat there, staring at the creamy, meringue-like foam, wondering, How on earth do they put an egg in a drink without it tasting like breakfast omelet? It was rich, sweet, and surprisingly smooth—a prelude to the feast ahead.
By 9:30 AM, I was tying on an apron at M.O.M. Cooking Class. This wasn’t a lecture; it was a hands-on dive into the "Northern & Central" Friday menu.
We worked for our lunch. I meticulously wrapped the Thua Lam Shrimp Rolls, tying them with green onion ribbons until they looked like little gifts on a banana leaf. I marveled at the crunch of the West Lake Shrimp Cakes (sweet potato nests that are pure texture). The air filled with smoke and savory scents as we grilled the meat patties for the Bun Cha, Hanoi style. And, of course, the Fresh Spring Rolls—mine stood proudly upright, translucent wrapper showing off the shrimp inside. We finished with a silky Coconut Cream Caramel Pudding, a sweet seal on a heavy meal.
The Vegetable Mix-Up & The Gentleman Scholar
Bloated but happy, I rolled back to the hotel for a short rest before venturing out again. My destination was a coffee workshop, but in my food coma, I wandered into the wrong building. I found myself staring at a table piled high with leafy greens.
"Where is the coffee?" I asked, confused.
The realization hit us all at once—wrong class. I laughed it off, backing out of the room. It was one of those funny, lost-in-translation moments that make solo travel memorable.
After a brief stop at the Catholic Church in District 1 at 2:00 PM—a moment of architectural beauty amidst the noise—I finally found the right place: Province Coffee.
High on Caffeine and Regret
The 3:00 PM workshop was a buzz in every sense of the word. We learned the holy trinity of Vietnamese specialty drinks: Egg Coffee (now I know the secret), Coconut Coffee, Salt Coffee, and a classic Latte. The class was filled with laughter, but my body was vibrating. Between the morning brew and the workshop samples, my caffeine intake was dangerously high.
There was a Polish guy in the class—a true gentleman. We got to talking, and he mentioned his plans to visit East Malaysia, specifically Sabah and Sarawak, next year. My eyes lit up. I shared tips about my side of the world, feeling a surge of pride. But in the haze of conversation and caffeine, I made a rookie mistake: I didn't ask for his Instagram. We parted ways, and I realized too late that I had let a potential friend disappear into the city. What a waste.
13,000 Steps
By 5:00 PM, I was roaming Ben Thanh Market, but the energy was frantic and I bought nothing. I was simply walking off the energy.
I returned to the hotel as the sun set. Dinner was out of the question; the four-course lunch and the liquid diet of heavy coffee had done me in. I checked my pedometer: 13,000 steps. My feet ached, my brain was buzzing, but my heart was full. I was no longer just watching Vietnam from the sidelines; I was cooking it, drinking it, and walking it.
A Moment of Reflection
Today was a sensory overload, a reminder that life is meant to be tasted, smelled, and walked through—not just observed. The mix-up with the cooking classroom taught me the value of humility and humor; sometimes you just have to laugh when you're the confused tourist. But the lingering thought of the day is the missed connection with the Polish traveler. It’s a bittersweet lesson: travel, like life, is fleeting. If you connect with someone, seize the moment. Be brave enough to ask for the contact, because opportunities rarely circle back.
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