What defines an ideal banh mi? Should it overflow with meats, pâté, and cold cuts, or should it maintain a lighter, more balanced approach?
VnExpress
After the recent Banh Mi Festival in Ho Chi Minh City, readers shared their thoughts on their perfect version of a banh mi sandwich. At this event, certain well-known brands were charging up to VND73,000 ($2.85 USD) for a filled serving.
Reader
Hien Le Thanh
thought that a banh mi with such a high price tag was excessive:
A banh mi costing VND73,000 comes loaded with an abundance of meat and has a remarkably rich taste. It’s quite substantial for one person to consume entirely on their own. In my opinion, this particular banh mi mirrors others in terms of its composition. Personally, I favor a well-balanced stuffing accompanied by generous portions that should be served warm, crunchy, and aromatic.
Reader
Jen
added:
A VND73,000 banh mi, which is loaded with meat, has become quite famous. This sandwich was once favored by western travelers looking for bigger servings; however, nowadays, local youth also appreciate it. Despite this popularity, most individuals find they can typically consume just about one-third of the sizable banh mi due to its generous size.
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At a store in Ho Chi Minh City, you’ll find two portions of a banh mi filled with cold cuts along with two levels of pate. The image was captured by VnExpress/Quynh Tran. |
For reader
nguyendinhvu2010
, the ideal banh mi begins with its fragrance:
As you stroll by a banh mi cart, the blend of freshly baked bread, pâté, barbecue pork, and butter emits an enticing aroma that beckons you closer. When you grasp the sandwich in your hand, you ought to sense its warmth and listen for the crisp sound. However, the real delight comes with the initial bite—the harmony of sweet, salty, and creamy flavors renders every banh mi distinctively special.
Reader
Quang Nguyen
reminisced about his most memorable banh mi experience:
The finest version I experienced was in Da Nang. It boasted just the right size, featuring a touch of tartness and spiciness, along with a crunchy exterior, flavorful filling, and fresh herbs such as coriander, Thai basil, and cucumber.
Another reader,
Nguoi nhap cuoc
reminisced about a banh mi from decades past:
Those who resided in the vicinity of Thu Duc both prior to and following 1975 would recall an older gentleman with one blinded eye peddling banh mi using a bicycle equipped with a sizable wooden crate secured at the rear.
In those times, food was hard to come by, yet his banh mi remained consistently warm and crispy. His signature dish included pressure-cooked sardines swimming in rich tomato gravy. The more affluent customers would often buy an entire banh mi, whereas many others opted for only half due to cost constraints. Whether it was chilly outside or raining heavily at night, his banh mi was always a delightful find. To ensure freshness, he carried a charcoal stove on his bicycle specifically for reheating the sandwiches when needed.
Afterward, I didn’t see him or his banh mi bike anymore. I was told he had passed away, and nobody continued his work. By then, banh mi carts could be found all around.
One notable characteristic of his cart was a manually operated horn connected to the bicycle’s handlebars. This would announce his arrival long before he got close, as the distant blaring could be heard clearly. That noise served as a fragment of the city’s history.