Author: Vy Tran

The fragrance of strong Robusta coffee was a constant during my childhood in Vietnam. Earthy with a hint of chocolate and caramel, it was the smell that permeated my home each morning, when my mom, who started drinking coffee in her teens during the 1960s, made her cup of Vietnamese drip coffee: black (cà phê đen) with a bit of sugar and ice. 

Though this is how most Vietnamese people prefer their coffee, many also enjoy cà phê sữa đá (iced coffee with condensed milk). With sweetened condensed milk to temper the harsh bitterness of Robust beans, the drink is incredibly refreshing when enjoyed with ice. Over the past few decades, the drink has become increasingly popular, especially outside Vietnam, where more and more dedicated coffee shops are bringing Vietnamese drip coffee to a wider audience. It’s a drink that leaves you buzzing for hours—my family and friends joke that the beverage is so strong it’d show up on a drug test.

A Brief History of Vietnamese Coffee

Despite being the world’s second largest coffee producer, trailing only behind Brazil, Vietnam gets very little recognition for its coffee. Vietnam produces more than 90% of the world’s Robusta beans, which have a reputation for being cheap and low quality, and are often sold to make commodity-grade coffee. While most coffee drinkers prefer Arabica beans for its smooth mouthfeel and caramel notes, Robusta reigns supreme in Vietnam, where it is typically used to make traditional Vietnamese drip coffee.

The French introduced coffee plants to Vietnam in 1857, when the Southeast Asian country was one of its colonies. In her book Rice and Baguette, historian Vu Hong Lien notes that the French government offered “generous tax concessions” to incentivize companies and individuals to plant profitable crops, including coffee. The growth of coffee plantations and accompanying exploitation—both of land and people—caused great resentment among the Vietnamese. This led to mass protests and violent attacks against the French colonists, who responded with arrests, imprisonment, and even executions in order to keep the plantations running.

Today, Vietnamese coffee grows in southern Vietnam’s Central Highlands, where the moderate climate and altitude provide the ideal environment for Robusta plants to thrive. Though Robusta beans aren’t renowned for their flavor and quality, they can produce great coffee when picked at peak ripeness—a task that’s more difficult than it sounds.

On a recent visit to several coffee plantations in Lâm Đồng province, I learned that it can take up to nine months for the cherries to mature properly. Like most fruit, they don’t always ripen at the same rate, and because harvesting coffee cherries by hand is such an arduous task, many plantations rely on machines to do the work. It’s a process that results in a mix of ripe and unripe coffee cherries, and the result is lower-quality coffee—the kind that has given Robusta beans its poor reputation.  

A new generation of Vietnamese coffee producers and entrepreneurs, however, are striving to change the perception of Robusta coffee by experimenting with innovative farming practices and roasting techniques. Today, curious coffee drinkers will find an increasingly wide range of Vietnamese coffee brands online and at Asian grocery stores.

Trung Nguyen Coffee, from Dak Lak, Vietnam, is one of the largest brands. Their Premium Blend, an affordable and widely available option, combines roasted Arabica and Robusta beans, and has rich chocolate notes. My favorite offering from the brand, though, is the Creative 1, which features Culi Robusta beans and is full-bodied and rich with a hint of vanilla.

Another popular brand is Nguyen Coffee Supply, founded by Sahra Nguyen, who sources coffee beans from Vietnamese farmers and roasts them in Brooklyn, New York. Nguyen, a champion of Robusta beans, has converted many coffee drinkers into lovers of this less popular bean with her various roasts. The Hanoi, a dark roast of Robusta beans with notes of prunes and graham crackers, and the Loyalty, a medium roast of Arabica and Robusta beans with hints of cacao and pomelo, are both excellent for brewing with a phin filter (more on how to do that below).

Among the Vietnamese community, Café Du Monde, the popular coffee from New Orleans, has a loyal following. While Café Du Monde doesn’t share how they source or blend their coffee, their dark roast with chicory is reminiscent of the coffee that the French brought to Vietnam. Many Vietnamese immigrants, reminded of the familiar taste from their youth, gravitate toward Café Du Monde.

Within the last decade, there's been an increasing demand both within and outside Vietnam for specialty coffee with single origin Robusta beans sourced directly from Vietnamese farmers. With more and more consumers seeking out Vietnamese coffee for themselves, the product may finally be getting its long overdue recognition.

How to Select Vietnamese Coffee

With so many brands, blends, and roasts available, which you choose ultimately boils down to personal preference. For traditional Vietnamese drip coffee, it’s best to pick a good-quality single origin Vietnamese Robusta for its bold, nutty flavor, like Trung Nguyen Coffee, Nguyen Coffee Supply, Omni Bev, Cafely, or Copper Cow Coffee.

If you cannot find Robusta beans, many Vietnamese brands offer a blend of Robusta and Arabica. Pick a blend with at least 70% Robusta, otherwise the light flavor of Arabica won’t stand up to the sweetness of condensed milk. Another alternative is using dark roast beans similar to Café Du Monde. Dark roast coffee beans undergo an extended roasting period, resulting in a richer, bolder flavor similar to Robusta beans. You may have to undergo a series of coffee bean taste tests before finding something that you like.

How to Brew Vietnamese Coffee

Use a Phin Filter

While numerous coffee makers and brewing techniques exist, traditional Vietnamese drip coffee is brewed using the phin filter. There is no official record of when and where the phin filter originated, but it’s likely the Vietnamese created it as a simpler, more affordable version of the French press, which the French brought but was too expensive for the working class. Made with stainless steel or aluminum, the phin filter consists of 4 parts: a lid to lock in the heat, a screw-on screen or a gravity press to push down the coffee, a brewing chamber to hold the coffee grounds and water, and a drip plate to filter the coffee.

Take Your Time to Steep

Most people, when making Vietnamese coffee, pour all the hot water into the brewing chamber and let it drip immediately. Some may bloom the coffee in about a tablespoon of water for 30 seconds, which releases carbon dioxide from the roasting process and enhances the overall flavor. (As culinary director Daniel found in his testing, bloomed coffee tastes “richer, rounder, and fuller-flavored.”) 

To find out how to make great Vietnamese coffee at home, I spent a morning learning about phin filter brewing with Vinh Duong of Saigon Coffee in San Diego. Duong, who is determined to brew the best possible cup of coffee, has spent years honing his techniques. As he busied himself with preparing different beverages for his customers, he explained the best way to extract the most flavor from coffee using a phin filter. 

The key, Duong says, is to pour in half of the water and let the coffee steep for five minutes with the lid off and placed beneath the drip plate to prevent it from dripping.  The steep produces a more well-rounded, uniform extract, while the slow drip afterwards yields a concentrated flavor. Duong actually steeps his coffee anywhere from 30 to 45 minutes depending on the volume required, but this long steeping time, while admirable, is simply not realistic for most people when they’re in a hurry.

Unfortunately, the lids of many phin filters in the U.S. aren’t deep enough and may result in some slight coffee spillage during the steeping process. To mitigate this problem, Duong recommends placing both the lid and filter on a plate just large enough to catch any spilled coffee. After steeping, Duong removes the lid, and pours any spilled coffee—along with the remaining water—into the chamber. This time, he removes the drip plate and allows the coffee to finish dripping into the glass below. Depending on the size of the coffee grounds and how tightly fitted the screen is, it can take anywhere from seven to 10 minutes to finish dripping. 

I tested Duong’s method of steeping the coffee for five minutes, and the coffee it produced was much richer and more balanced than the coffee that had only been bloomed for 30 seconds, which had a strong acerbic note. This difference is even more pronounced when condensed milk and ice are added.  

Sweetened Condensed Milk and Ice Are a Must

Cà phê sữa đá means coffee served with sweetened condensed milk (sữa) and ice (đá), and these two ingredients are non-negotiables for Vietnamese coffee. Longevity Brand, or Sữa Ông Thọ, is the go-to sweetened condensed milk for most people in the Vietnamese diaspora. I recommend starting with one tablespoon of condensed milk and adding more as needed to get your desired sweetness. To avoid diluting your coffee too much, wait until the coffee feels cool or lukewarm before adding the ice.

With creamy, sweetened condensed milk and ice to mellow out the bitterness of Robusta beans, Vietnamese coffee is the refreshing drink I reach for when I need a caffeine boost. I drink so much of it that it really wouldn’t surprise me if it did, indeed, show up on a drug test.

Remove lid and metal screen from phin filter. Add ground coffee to brewing chamber and shake gently to distribute evenly. Gently push the screen back on until you meet some resistance. (Don’t push the screen all the way down, as it will take longer for coffee to drip and result in an extra strong brew.)

Place lid underneath filter and set on a plate large enough to hold the filter and lid so it can catch any spilled coffee. Add 1/4 cup (60ml) hot water water and let steep until coffee grounds have absorbed all the water and turn black, about 5 minutes. While coffee steeps, place condensed milk into a glass big enough to hold 8 to 12 ounces.

Place filter over glass containing condensed milk. Pour in remaining 1/4 cup (60ml) hot water and any coffee that seeped out during steeping process. Allow coffee to drip until all liquid has drained, 7 to 10 minutes. (If it stops dripping because the screen was screwed on too tightly, gently loosen the screen.) Remove filter. Stir coffee and sweetened condensed milk to combine. Add ice, stir, and serve immediately.

Special Equipment

8- to 12-ounce phin filter

Notes

Look for inexpensive canned Vietnamese Robusta coffee or a blend of Robusta and Arabica, preferably 70% Robusta and 30% Arabica. If you prefer to grind your own coffee beans, go for a medium fine grind. 

Filtered water or bottled water is preferred for making Vietnamese drip coffee. Harsh water with all its mineral content will ruin a good cup of coffee. Though I’m not very particular about the temperature of the water, I recommend using just boiled water around 195ºF or 95ºC.

Make-Ahead and Storage

The coffee with added condensed milk can be made 2 days ahead and refrigerated. Add ice when ready to serve. 

Bún chả Hanoi is a quintessential Northern Vietnamese dish that brings together smoky, succulent meat patties and pork belly slices in an umami-rich dipping sauce with tender vermicelli noodles, vibrant herbs, and crunchy pickles for a comforting and satisfying meal.

Long before bún chả shot to international fame in May 2016, when former president Barack Obama and the late chef Anthony Bourdain dined at Bún Chả Hương Liên for an episode of Parts Unknown, this humble Northern Vietnamese dish was a staple at our house.  When the episode aired, my family, along with millions of other Vietnamese, watched with our eyes glued to the TV as one of the most powerful figures in the world sat on a blue plastic chair and enjoyed a humble Vietnamese meal, an image unlike anything we'd ever seen of a US president.

While phở stands at the top of the Vietnamese culinary pantheon, bún chả is a close second for many Northern Vietnamese, especially my dad. As he often reminisced, “Bún chả stalls were everywhere. Biking home from school, just the billowing wisps of smoke made me salivate before I could see the meat sizzling over the small charcoal brazier. While your nose savors the aroma of the meat, the first taste tells you if the broth is good. Then let yourself be seduced by the meat along with noodles and fresh herbs.” Growing up in San Jose, my mom made bún chả often, more so than phở because phở restaurants were ubiquitous in San Jose while none existed for Northern Vietnamese food. 

On a recent trip to northern Vietnam, I set out to find bún chả as exemplary as my dad’s description from childhood. Following the maze of Hanoi's old quarter, I searched for bún chả everywhere, from street vendors in narrow alleys to more established restaurants–even the restaurant featured in that Parts Unknown episode, Bún Chả Hương Liên.

Each time I ordered bún chả, I anxiously waited for an explosion of flavors to happen. But the magic didn’t appear; the bún chả tasted no different from what I had back home. 

Despite my repeated disappointment, I persisted. Following the recommendation of our hotel receptionist, I made my way to Bún Chả Đắc Kim, a local gem established in 1965. The distinct aroma of grilled meat imbued with charcoal fire attracted my attention as I got closer. My mouth started salivating even before I sat down. I ordered the typical combo of bún chả and crab spring rolls. A familiar bowl of charred minced pork patties and crispy pork belly pieces bathed in steaming dipping sauce arrived. Among the typical meats, though, were a few pieces of patty wrapped in some kind of green leaf, different from any other bún chả I’ve tried . 

As I tried the different pieces of meat, I asked one of the cooks what the leaves were. She generously told me they were betel leaves (lá lốt) and jelly leaves (sương sâm). Both leaves made the patties incredibly fragrant, while the betel leaves imparted a completely different flavor to the pork patties, reminiscent of grilled beef in betel leaves (bò lá lốt). 

When I tasted the dipping sauce, it was completely unfamiliar. While there was a hint of fish sauce, it was incredibly light and fleeting, unlike other places where the sauce was either bland, too sweet, or vinegary. Rather than a diluted version of fish sauce, it tasted like a soup, yet unlike any soup I’ve ever had, drawing me back for spoonful after spoonful. 

Bún Chả Đắc Kim delivered everything that I imagined a delicious bún chả would promise: smoky and juicy pork patties and slices of pork belly bursting with umami flavor and submerged in a light, soupy dipping sauce that was good enough to drink by the glass. As I sat there devouring my meal, I felt the joy and comfort of this quintessential Hanoian dish that my dad often spoke about. If phở Saigon connected me to my southern roots, then bún chả cemented itself as the gateway to my northern family.

Bún Chả Basics

The juiciness of the pork patties in bún chả starts with the type of ground pork used; it should have at least 20 percent fat. The pork is marinated with sugar, fish sauce, shallot, garlic, and a generous amount of freshly ground pepper. The pepper lends a wonderful heat compared to meat patties from other regions like nem lui Hue, grilled pork paste meatballs, or shrimp paste on sugarcane. To develop the flavors, the mixture should marinate for a minimum of 4 hours. It’s then formed into flattened patties about 2 1/2 inches in diameter and 1/2 inch thick. Keeping the size uniform allows even cooking so the outside is perfectly charred while the inside stays moist and juicy. As much as I would love to share a version of meat patties wrapped in jelly leaves and betal leaves, supply is fickle. If you happen to find these leaves at the Asian grocery stores, definitely snatch them and wrap a few meat patties so you can taste the difference. 

Choose a fatty cut of pork for the pork slices, either pork belly or pork butt, to prevent the meat from drying out during grilling. I prefer the former because as the fat renders during grilling, the slices become crispy with a wonderful texture. To cut consistent slices from the pork belly, it helps freeze until firm but not frozen solid. When it’s semi-frozen, you can cut it neatly into 1/4-inch slices. The pork slices go into a marinade with fish sauce, water, vegetable oil, sugar, aromatics, and freshly ground pepper. They also need a minimum of 4 hours for the flavors to develop and meld. 

While it might be convenient to cook the pork in a stovetop grill pan, the result will lack the smoky flavor and char essential to bún chả. Both types of meat taste best grilled. Most bún chả restaurants use a charcoal grill and a metal grilling basket. With one hand, the griller constantly flips a metal grilling basket tightly packed with meat over a charcoal fire while fanning the flame with the other hand to get the char just right. As the fat renders, it hits the charcoal and disperses a tantalizing fragrance that draws a crowd. 

Even on a home grill, I highly recommend using a metal grilling basket; otherwise, the patties and pork belly slices will fall through the grill grate. A basket also makes flipping the pieces of meat more efficient, given that they need to be turned every minute, since turning the meat frequently allows even cooking and prevents burning.

The Sauce (Nước Chấm)

While the pork is integral to bún chả, it’s the dipping sauce (nước chấm) that makes or breaks the meal. To understand what makes a great dipping sauce, I spent some time with Cuong Pham, the founder of Red Boat Fish Sauce, at his barrel house in Phu Quoc. Traditional fish sauce is made from small fish like anchovies layered with salt and kept in barrels for months as they ferment. Over time, they release the amber-colored glutamate-rich liquid that gets filtered and bottled into the fish sauce sold at your local supermarket. 

During my visit, I got to taste fish sauce at different stages of fermentation, from three months to six, nine, and 12 months. The three-month fish sauce was pungent and harsh—a complete assault on the palate—while the fish sauce aged for 12 months was nuanced and more mellow. Pham credited his high-quality fish sauce to fresh ingredients, the aging process, and the unique climate of Phu Quoc. 

Nowadays, most fish sauce companies have ditched the traditional method of salting and fermenting for convenience and profit by blending chemicals, anchovy powder, salt, sweetener, and sugar in the lab to produce larger quantities of fish sauce. Consequently, not all fish sauces are created equal. Pham recommended looking at the ingredients, their origin, and the degrees (°N) on the label, which represent the protein content in the fish sauce. The higher the value, the higher the protein content, and thus the savory profile and umami it lends to the finished dish.

The dipping sauce of bún chả is served warm to steaming hot, which sets it apart from the room-temperature dipping sauce of other vermicelli noodle bowls. At Bún Chả Đắc Kim, the dipping sauce was boiling when the cook ladled it into the bowl containing the meat. Given how fatty the patties and pork slices are, the high temperature prevents fat droplets from coagulating at the top. 

For the dipping sauce, I recommend using a fish sauce made by the traditional method. Commercial fish sauces blended with additives tend to have an unpleasant aftertaste. I tested different ratios of fish sauce to sugar and water and found that a fixed ratio does not work because the salt content varies between brands. It's better to boil the ingredients together, taste, and adjust as needed, keeping in mind the sauce should taste lightly sweet and savory from the amalgamation with the juices and char of the grilled meat. In Vietnam, bún chả restaurants typically have limes or kumquats, vinegar, and additional fish sauce at the table so diners can adjust the flavor to suit their palate.

How to Eat Bún Chả

To eat bún chả, taste the dipping sauce first before adding other condiments or accompaniments like raw garlic or sliced bird’s eye chile. I prefer the garlicky kick and heat from the raw garlic and freshly ground peppercorns over the sharp heat from the bird’s eye chile. Add fresh herbs to the bowl and throw a small heap of vermicelli noodles in the dipping sauce. Take your chopsticks and pick up the noodles along with meat, pickled vegetables, and fresh herbs. The contrast of textures and flavors from pickled vegetables and refreshing herbs, tender vermicelli noodles, and umami from the succulent meat make every bite fun and memorable.

For the Pork Patties: In a large bowl, combine ground pork, shallots, garlic, sugar, fish sauce, and pepper and mix well. Cover bowl and refrigerate mixture for at least 4 and up to 24 hours.

For the Pork Belly: Using a very sharp knife, slice semi-frozen pork belly into 2-inch-long, 1/4-inch-thick slices.

In another large bowl, combine hot water and sugar and stir until sugar has dissolved. Add fish sauce, vegetable oil, scallions, shallot, garlic, and pepper and whisk to combine. Add pork belly slices and toss well to coat. Cover bowl and refrigerate for at least 4 and up to 24 hours.

For the Pickled Carrot and Kohlrabi: In small bowl, stir water, rice vinegar, and sugar until sugar has dissolved. Add sliced carrot and kohlrabi and let sit at room temperature until pickled, 2 hours.

For the Dipping Sauce: In a small saucepan, combine water, sugar, and fish sauce. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring until the sugar has dissolved, then boil for 5 minutes. Keep hot. (If making ahead of time, reheat before serving.)

To Grill the Meats: When ready to grill, remove pork mixture and pork belly from fridge. Weigh out about 2 ounces of pork mixture for each patty. Using oiled hands, form pork mixture into small patties, about 2 1/2 inches in diameter and 1/2 inch thick. Place formed patties on baking sheet lined with aluminum foil or parchment paper.

Light 1 chimney full of charcoal. When all charcoal is lit and covered with gray ash, pour out and arrange coals on one side of grill. Set cooking grate in place, cover grill, and allow to preheat for 5 minutes. Alternatively, turn on all the burners of a gas grill to high, close grill, and preheat for 5 minutes. Clean and oil the grill grate.

Brush both sides of pork patties with vegetable oil. Transfer 6 pork patties to a metal grilling basket. Grill over direct heat, turning every minute, until cooked through and browned on the outside, about 8 minutes. Transfer cooked patties to a platter or baking sheet. Repeat with remaining pork patties. Keep warm. 

Transfer pork belly slices to now-empty grilling basket. Grill over direct heat, turning every minute until cooked through and browned, 5 to 6 minutes. Transfer to the platter with the patties. Repeat with remaining pork belly slices. Keep warm.

For Serving: Cook the noodles according to the package instructions. Drain and run under cold water. Drain again and set aside.

Place the noodles, lettuce, and herbs on a platter. Place the garlic and sliced bird’s eye chiles in separate small bowls.

Divide grilled pork patties and pork belly slices into 4 bowls. Add pickled vegetables. Ladle about 1 cup of hot dipping sauce into each bowl. Serve immediately with noodles, fresh herbs,raw garlic, and bird’s eye chiles alongside. 

Special Equipment

Grilling basket

Notes

Make sure to use a traditionally made fish sauce; I prefer Red Boat brand.

For the rice vermicelli, Three Ladies is a good brand. 

Green papaya makes a great substitute for kohlrabi.

The listed fresh herbs are available at most Asian grocery stores or well stocked markets. Any combination of the listed fresh herbs that are available to you will work in this recipe. Cilantro may be substituted for the Vietnamese coriander (rau răm).

Make-Ahead and Storage

The vermicelli rice noodles can be prepared a few hours before assembling the bowl.

The meat can be marinated the night before. 

The dipping sauce can be made the day before and warmed up when ready to use.

The pickled carrot and kohlrabi can be made up to 48 hours ahead. Refrigerate them until ready to use.

Salads play an integral role in Vietnamese cuisine. They often accompany a larger meal as part of a celebration or can be served as a light standalone dish. Vietnamese chicken and cabbage salad, or gỏi gà bắp cải—gỏi the general term for salad, or nộm in northern Vietnam, gà meaning chicken, and bắp cải for cabbage—is a quintessential example. The combination of tender chicken, crunchy cabbage, sweet carrots, and pickled onions is tossed with tangy vinegar brine and topped with crispy shallots and peanuts. It's then served with a side of aromatic dipping sauce to create an impressive medley of textures and flavors.

For as long as I can remember, Vietnamese chicken and cabbage salad has been a staple at every family celebration, including special holidays, birthday parties, engagement parties, and even death anniversaries. It’s often served alongside chicken congee at these festive family feasts. This makes sense since the two dishes are linked in preparation: The chicken that is simmered to make the congee broth is cooled down, shredded, and incorporated into this refreshing salad. It’s a practical and delicious way to use chicken to its fullest. 

This refreshing salad needn’t be reserved for just special occasions, though. In my recipe, I’ve broken down the preparation of the chicken, cabbage, carrots, pickled onion, fried shallots, and the dipping sauce into their core components, making this seemingly complicated medley of flavors and textures approachable for any day of the week.

One of the easiest ways to streamline the process is to make some of the components in advance. The pickled red onion, the dipping sauce (nước chấm), and the fried shallots can all be made a day or two ahead and stored separately. Alternatively, they can also be made while poaching and resting the chicken.

The dipping sauce, or nước chấm, is made from a combination of garlic, ginger, bird’s-eye chile, sugar, fish sauce, lime juice, and water. To enhance the flavor of the garlic and ginger, I like to use a mortar and pestle to crush their cells and release more of their aromatic flavor compounds.

While there are several methods for cooking the chicken breasts, such as roasting, boiling, or steaming, my go-to method is gently poaching the chicken with aromatics like scallion and ginger. It’s a method used in Daniel Gritzer’s poached chicken recipe, and results in consistently tender and succulent meat. 

The key to perfectly poached chicken that is exceptionally plump and tender, not tight or dry, is maintaining a water temperature between 160 and 180°F (70 to 80°C). The final temperature of the chicken breast meat should be 150℉ (66℃), which is lower than the official USDA guidance of 165℉ (74℃). I assure you that since the chicken is held at these elevated temperatures for so long, the chicken will be perfectly safe to eat—eliminating pathogens like salmonella isn't just a function of temperature but also time. The result, meanwhile, will be much more juicy, than if you were to cook it to a higher internal temperature. You can also adjust the poaching aromatics to your liking by adding onion, lemongrass, or makrut lime leaves to the pot.

As the chicken poaches, use your time efficiently to shred the cabbage and carrots and pickle the onion. I prefer using a mandoline to slice all three as evenly and thinly as possible (the shredding disk of a food processor or even some solid basic knife skills will also work).

While the contrasting textures of the succulent chicken and crunchy vegetables are a hallmark feature of this salad, it’s important to note we don’t want the vegetables too crunchy. Ideally the vegetables should retain some bite, but not be as firm as they are when plain and raw. I like to gently soften the cabbage and carrot by tossing with the pickled onions and its vinegar brine for about one hour before serving the salad, just long enough to wilt the vegetables slightly, while still preserving some crunch. I also add the shredded chicken to the pickle brine at the same time, giving it a chance to soak in the brine as the flavors meld.

After an hour of sitting, the salad is ready to toss with fresh herbs and top with crispy fried shallots and peanuts. Make sure to hold off on adding these final elements until right before serving to retain their texture. At this point, you’ll want to enjoy the salad right away with the side of dipping sauce, since the longer the salad sits, the soggier it will become.

For the Chicken: In a large saucepan, combine water and salt, stirring until salt dissolves. Add chicken, scallion, and ginger and set over medium-high heat until water temperature reaches between 150 and 160°F (65 to 70°C) on an instant-read thermometer. Cook, adjusting heat to maintain water temperature in the 150–180°F (65–80°C) range, until the thickest part of chicken registers 150°F (65°C) on an instant-read thermometer, about 1 hour. Remove chicken from broth and let rest until cool enough to handle. Strain broth and reserve for another use. Remove and discard chicken skin, then shred meat with your hands and set aside.

For the Pickled Red Onion: In a non-reactive bowl, combine vinegar, water, and sugar, and stir until sugar dissolves. Stir in onion and let sit at room temperature for 1 hour.

For the Ginger Dipping Sauce: Meanwhile, using a mortar and pestle, pound garlic and ginger together with sugar (alternatively, use the back of a knife to bruise the garlic and ginger then mince finely, and stir with sugar in a small bowl). Add warm water, fish sauce, and lime juice, then stir to combine. Transfer sauce to a serving bowl and set aside until ready to use.

For the Fried Shallots: In a small saucepan, heat oil to 300°F (150°C) over medium-high heat. Add the shallots and fry, stirring constantly for even cooking and adjusting heat as needed to maintain oil temperature between 250 and 275°F (120-135°C), until golden brown, 5 to 7 minutes. Use a slotted spoon to transfer the fried shallots to a paper-towel lined plate and season immediately with salt. 

For the Salad: One hour before serving, thoroughly toss together shredded chicken with cabbage, carrots, and the reserved pickled onion with its pickling juice. 

To roast peanuts, preheat oven to 350°F (180°C). Place peanuts on a baking sheet lined with foil and roast until golden, 10-12 minutes; check frequently to make sure they don't burn. Allow to cool, then roughly chop.

When ready to serve, toss the chicken salad with the fresh coriander and perilla and top with the reserved fried shallots and roasted peanuts. Serve with the ginger dipping sauce.

Special Equipment

Mandoline, mortar and pestle, instant-read or deep-fry thermometer 

Notes

Use a mandoline or the shredding disc attachment of a food processor for easier and faster slicing of the shallot and cabbage.

A mandoline will also create the most even rounds of shallot for frying.

I prefer a combination of green and purple cabbage for a vibrant mix of color in the salad. Feel free to use 5 cups of all green or all purple cabbage in the recipe instead of a combination of the 2 types of cabbage. 

This salad is a great way to use leftover chicken you already have on hand. Omit step 4 and use 2 to 3 cups shredded chicken (dark or white meat will both work well).

Make-Ahead and Storage

The dipping sauce can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 2 days. 

The fried shallots can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 2 months.

In Vietnam, vermicelli noodle bowls make an easy lunch and dinner, whether sold from street vendors or made at home. One of the most popular options is fresh vermicelli noodles served with crispy bites of imperial rolls, along with fresh lettuce, a medley of herbs, and bright pickled vegetables. In the hot, humid weather of Vietnam, it's a meal that is both incredibly satisfying but also refreshing and bright.

What Are Vietnamese Rice Noodles?

The dish is built on Vietnamese vermicelli noodles, which are long, thin noodles made from rice. Rice noodles, or bún, were brought to Vietnam by the Chinese during their rule from 179-938 BC. Eventually the noodles were incorporated into Vietnamese-style cooking, becoming an important element in dishes like phở, bánh canh, and netted rice noodles.

Bún is a general term for rice noodles, and does not distinguish between size or preparation (whether the noodles are prepared fresh or cooked from dried). In the noodle section at an Asian supermarket, you will find different types of rice noodles such as thick round ones for bún bò Huế (beef noodle soup); incredibly fine ones called bánh hỏi that are woven together like an intricate net to serve as a wonderful base for all kinds of protein; and ones somewhere in the middle that are used for everything from crab tomato noodle soup (bún riêu) to duck-and–bamboo noodle soup (bún măng vịt), spring rolls (gỏi cuốn), and vermicelli noodle bowls like this one. 

How Rice Noodles Are Made in Vietnam

On a recent trip to the Mekong Delta, I visited Sau Hoai’s noodle shop, one of the few remaining noodle factories in Con Tho that still produces handmade rice noodles. Hoai is a second generation noodle maker with over 45 years of experience and oversees and trains workers on the craft of handmade noodles, a practice that is quickly disappearing. Fresh rice noodles with the perfect texture and fragrance require high quality rice, a thorough understanding of mixing flours and water, and a lot of manual labor. 

Traditionally, rice vermicelli noodles were made fresh and sold at markets. The process is a tedious one: Clean rice is steeped in water for several days to ferment. Then the rice goes through a wet-milling process to produce flour. Boiling water is then added to the flour along with tapioca to form a batter , which gets extruded through molds or hand coated into sheets and cut to form various rice noodles of different sizes. Making fresh noodles is a meticulous process that requires the agility and experienced hands of trained workers for each stage of production. 

Fresh noodles, sitting in the humid weather of Vietnam, can start to ferment, resulting in a slightly sour flavor and going bad in a matter of hours. To avoid this, most rice noodles today are made by machines and sold dried, then boiled until soft, similar to dried wheat pasta.

The Key Elements To a Great Noodle Bowl

With time, vermicelli noodle bowls became an iconic dish and popular street food in southern Vietnam. It’s easy to see why. These bowls combine protein, vermicelli noodles, fresh herbs, cucumber, bean sprouts, pickled veggies, and nước chấm, a sweet and tangy sauce, all into one satisfying meal. It's a revelatory dish of fresh bright flavors and contrasting textures. The most popular options for protein include imperial rolls (chả giò), grilled pork (thịt nướng), grilled pork paste (nem nướng), grilled chicken (gà nướng), grilled prawns (tôm nướng), sauteed beef (thịt bò xào), and shredded pork (bì). Sometimes these proteins are combined in one bowl, but I prefer not to mix more than three proteins; any more and the flavors become overwhelming. 

My go-to dried vermicelli noodle is Three Ladies Brand. It has a firmer bite than other brands and is less likely to turn undesirably mushy—the springy texture of the cooked noodles is paramount to this dish. It’s important to keep an eye on the noodles as they cook to avoid overcooking and losing their slight bounce. Once the noodles are properly cooked, they are drained and immediately rinsed under cool water to stop the cooking process. Rinsing the noodles also removes the excess starch, which prevents them from sticking together. 

The most time-consuming part of this recipe is making the imperial rolls themselves. While store-bought options exist, I unfortunately have yet to find a brand that comes close to what I would call a good-quality product. These really are best when made at home. If you're not up for that, you can also top the vermicelli noodles in this recipe with some of the meats commonly served with broken rice, including the grilled pork and the shredded pork (instructions for both those meats can be found in this broken rice recipe).

The herbs are the unsung heroes of vermicelli noodle bowls―they pack a lot of flavor. In a well prepared vermicelli noodle bowl, you will find ribbons of lettuce along with an array of fresh herbs, such as Thai basil (húng quế), Vietnamese coriander (rau răm), Vietnamese perilla (tiá tô), peppermint (húng lủi), and cilantro, along with distinctive fish mint (dấp cá). It's worth seeking as many of these herbs out at your local Asian grocery stores so you can fully enjoy the result.

I like to tear the herbs into smaller pieces, but they can also be cut into ribbons, similar to the lettuce. Diners can customize and season their bowl to taste with bean sprouts, cucumber, and roasted peanuts add a welcome crunch to contrast the tender noodles, while pickled vegetables and nước chấm add a final pop of sweet and tangy flavor and light heat to the bowl. The end result is a vermicelli noodle bowl that is bursting with fresh flavor bite after bite.

For the Nước Chấm: In a medium bowl, combine water, sugar, fish sauce, and lime juice and mix until sugar has fully dissolved. Stir in garlic and chile; set aside.

For the Vermicelli Noodle Bowls: Bring a large pot of unsalted water to a boil over medium-high heat. Add noodles and boil until tender according to the package instructions (the cooking time depends on the noodle and the brand.) Check for doneness by pressing the noodles between your fingers: they should be soft and have some spring and not mushy. Drain in a colander, rinse with cold water, and set aside to cool.

For Serving: Divide herbs, lettuce, cucumbers, and bean sprouts between large individual noodle serving bowls. Top with noodles followed by imperial rolls. Garnish with roasted peanuts, if using, and pickled daikon and carrot, and leeks. Serve with nước chấm. 

Notes

For vermicelli rice noodles, I recommend the Three Ladies brand, which is available at most Asian supermarkets and online.

The most time-consuming part of this recipe is making the imperial rolls themselves. While store-bought options exist, I unfortunately have yet to find a brand that comes close to what I would call a good-quality product. These really are best when made at home. If you're not up for that, you can also top the vermicelli noodles in this recipe with some of the meats commonly served with broken rice, including the grilled pork and the shredded pork (instructions for both those meats can be found in this broken rice recipe).

Pickled leeks, often labeled “pickled leeks in brine,” are available at most Asian supermarkets in the canned section. Their delicate aroma and sweet-and-sour finish make them a great pairing with these imperial rolls.

Make-Ahead and Storage

The vermicelli rice noodles can be prepared up to 4 hours ahead and held at room temperature before assembling the bowl.

Nước chấm can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 2 days ahead. It may thicken as it sits; dilute with water as needed. 

Vietnamese’s ingenious use of ground rice led to the creation of rice paper, a unique product of Vietnam that today is used as the wrappers of two national dishes: Vietnamese fresh spring rolls (summer or salad rolls) and fried spring rolls (imperial rolls). The imperial rolls go by different names depending on the region: chả giò in the south and nem rán in the north. Adding to the confusion, Vietnamese Americans began calling them egg rolls even though they are not made with Chinese wheat-based egg-roll wrappers. Created as a food for celebration, chả giò often serve as an appetizer at family gatherings. They are also one of the most popular street foods in Vietnam.

The Rice Paper

Rice paper is notoriously laborious to make from scratch. The thin liquid mixture is spread over a piece of muslin in a steamer, then transferred to a bamboo mat to dry in the sun, which gives it an almost transparent look and beautiful imprinted basket-weave pattern. Vietnamese rice papers are much thinner than other styles of rice paper you will find at Asian supermarkets in the US. They only need to be rehydrated with a quick dip in water or moistened with fruits and herbs instead of requiring a soak before use. Soaking them too long can cause them to be too sticky or mushy to shape properly.  

When it comes to rice paper wrappers for chả giò, three styles exist: rice flour mixed with a small amount of tapioca that prevents it from tearing when wet; all tapioca flour (so, really not "rice" paper at all); and netted rice paper wrappers made from vermicelli noodles called chả giò rế.

My favorite style of wrapper is chả giò rế because it fries up beautifully with a golden hue and perfect crunch. However, chả giò rế is not widely available. Whenever I find some, I always stock up and keep them in my freezer for months. Since you may not be able to find chả giò rế, I tested both the rice-based and tapioca-based wrappers and found that the tapioca-based rice paper wrappers were more pliable when wet, but there wasn't much difference between the two when it came to frying.  Both work well in this recipe, but tapioca-based wrappers will be easier to roll.

The Dipping Liquid

Unlike Chinese wheat-based wrappers, rice and tapioca wrappers take longer to brown; thus, the dipping liquid benefits from added carbohydrates, in the form of starch or sugar, to speed up the browning process. My mom uses a one-to-one ratio of water to beer or soda (she prefers 7-Up or ginger ale). When I don’t have any carbonated beverages on hand, I substitute by dissolving two tablespoons of sugar into one cup of warm water.  

The Filling

The classic chả giò filling includes carrot, jicama, wood ear mushroom, cellophane noodles, ground pork, shrimp, and aromatics like shallot, scallion, and garlic. Northern Vietnamese tend to use kohlrabi and bean sprouts. Other add-ins include taro, mung bean, shiitake mushroom, ground chicken, crabmeat, tofu, and even snail meat. Each family has their own recipe. 

To keep chả giò crispy, it’s important to minimize the amount of moisture in the filling. Since jicama holds a lot of moisture, I  squeeze out any excess liquid before mixing it into the filling. The same goes for the rehydrated wood ear mushrooms and cellophane noodles. Once the filling is combined, I cook off a small amount of the filling to taste-test either by sauteing or microwaving until cooked through, and adjust the seasoning before filling the rolls. 

Rolling chả giò is an art in itself. Chả giò in Saigon tend to be shorter and rounder, while nem rán in Hanoi look elongated, like cigars. I’ve written this recipe for the shorter and rounder style. But you can make thinner rolls in the style of nem rán by using half the amount of filling per roll. 

Wrapping the filling too loosely results in bursting when they hit the hot oil, but rolling them too tightly will burn the outside before the filling is cooked. When rolling, it's best to keep them snug to avoid any large air bubbles. To make them uniform and easier for frying, I add 1/4 cup of filling in each roll, then shape it into a compact log before folding and rolling. Another trick you can use is to spread the filling in an even layer on a rimmed quarter baking sheet, pack it down to compress and refrigerate until chilled and firm. Once firm, you can cut through the filling to make equal 4 1/2 -inch by 1 1/2-inch logs that can be scooped up and transferred to the wrappers for shaping and rolling.

Frying Fun

My aunt, Co Ngoan of Tamarind Tree Restaurant in Seattle, utilizes a double-fry method for large batches of chả giò to keep them crispy. For a large party, she does the first fry, then refrigerates chả giò until she needs them for the second fry. The first fry requires a low temperature of 325°F (160°C), and the second time at higher temperature between 350 to 375°F (175 to 190°C) to crisp them up. I found in my recipe testing at home for a smaller batch of about 14 total rolls, that a single fry at 350°F ( 175°C) for 8 to 10 minutes produced imperial rolls with a golden  crispy interior and a well cooked and juicy filling.

When chả giò hits the hot oil, the rice paper immediately blisters and puffs like a frog croaking. These bubbles appeal to the kid in me and I’m always tempted to poke at them with my chopsticks. But resist the urge! These bubbles are a useful guide when frying. After adding one roll, wait a few seconds for the bubbles on the wrapper to settle down before adding a second roll to the hot oil. This helps prevent the sticky rice paper wrappers from adhering to each other when added to the hot oil.

I usually then let the rolls fry untouched for the first few minutes, while the wrappers are still soft and delicate. Once the wrappers begin to firm up in the oil, I’ll use tongs or chopsticks to separate them, when the risk of tearing is less. Also, these bubbles from frying lend a certain charm to the look of chả giò.

How to Eat Chả Giò

One way to serve cha gio is to cut each roll into bite-sized chunks and add them to a Vietnamese noodle salad with nước chấm as a dressing. As an appetizer, chả giò is eaten with a plate of fresh herbs, including lettuce, Thai basil (húng quế), Vietnamese coriander (rau răm), Vietnamese perilla (tiá tô), peppermint (húng lủi), and fish mint (dấp cá), along with pickled vegetables like daikon, carrots, and leeks, and a dipping sauce (nước chấm). The dipping sauce, pickled vegetables, and fresh herbs perfectly complement the crispy imperial rolls to create a balanced and satisfying bite.

For the Dipping Sauce: In a medium bowl, combine 1/2 cup (120ml) warm water with the sugar, fish sauce, and lime juice and mix until sugar has fully dissolved. Stir in garlic and chile, if using, and set aside.

 For the Filling: Using your hands, squeeze jicama to remove excess liquid. Spread jicama and carrot in an even layer on a paper towel-lined  rimmed baking sheet and let air-dry for 1 hour.

In a small bowl, soak cellophane noodles in 2 cups (475ml) warm water for 15 minutes. Drain softened noodles, squeeze noodles dry to remove excess liquid, then cut into roughly 1-inch strands. Return to now-empty bowl and set aside.

In a separate small bowl, soak wood ear mushrooms in 1 cup (235ml) warm water for 15 minutes. Drain and rinse thoroughly. Chop fine, discarding any tough stems.

In a large bowl, combine prawns, pork, carrot, jicama, cellophane noodles, wood ear mushrooms, shallot, scallion, garlic, sugar, salt, and pepper. Using your hands, mix until fully combined. To check for seasoning, cook 1 tablespoon of the filling in a small pan over medium heat or microwave on a plate for 45 seconds before tasting for seasoning. Adjust uncooked filling to taste with extra sugar or salt if needed.

To Form and Fry: In a large shallow wide bowl, stir together 1 1/2 cups (355ml) warm water with the soda.  Working with one rice paper wrapper at a time, dip into the liquid until the wrapper is just pliable. Remove and shake off excess water.  Lay moistened wrapper on a clean counter or cutting board. Place 1/4 cup filling just below center of rice paper sheet. Using hands, shape filling into a 4  1/2-  to 5-inch log parallel to counter edge.

Fold the left and right sides of the wrapper towards the center to enclose filling snugly. Fold bottom corner of wrapper over filling and press gently along length of filling to remove air pockets. Starting at bottom counter edge, gently wrap up and over the filling to form a tight cylinder and finish rolling to seal. Transfer roll seam side down to a rimmed baking sheet. (Do not stack). Repeat with remaining wrappers and filling; you should have about 14 rolls. Cover filled rolls with a damp towel and refrigerate rolls until ready to fry. 

Set wire rack in rimmed baking sheet. Line rack with a double layer of paper towels. In a large Dutch oven, heat oil over medium-high heat to 350°F (175°C). Working with 1 at a time, use tongs or spider skimmer to gently transfer 6 rolls to oil and fry rolls until golden brown all over and crispy, 8 to 10 minutes, turning rolls and gently separating rolls with tongs halfway through frying. Adjust burner as needed, to maintain oil temperature of 325℉ to 350℉ ( 160  to 175℃) degrees. Transfer fried rolls to prepared rack. Repeat with remaining rolls, frying 6 to 4 at a time. Let cool for 5 minutes before serving.

For Serving: Serve imperial rolls with lettuce, fresh herbs, dipping sauce, pickled daikon and carrots, and pickled leeks, if using, alongside dipping sauce. To eat, wrap each roll in a lettuce leaf, top with herbs and pickles, and dip into sauce.

Special Equipment

Dutch oven, instant-read thermometer

Notes

Vietnamese rice paper wrappers are sold dried. They come in three styles; rice flour mixed with tapioca starch, all tapioca starch, or wrappers made from vermicelli noodles called chả giò rế. All three styles will work with this recipe, so choose the style you prefer. Rice paper wrappers can be found at most Asian grocery stores and online. 

Chả giò rế is a frozen, ready-to-use product, and the wrappers are separated by thin sheets of paper so that they do not stick together. The package instructions state that they are ready to roll, but should be kept under a moist towel during prep.

A mandoline works great for thinly slicing the carrots and jicama before cutting into thin matchsticks.

To make smaller and slimmer rolls, you may alternatively use just 2 tablespoons filling for each roll to have a total of about 28 imperial rolls per recipe.

Pickled leeks, often labeled “pickled leeks in brine”  are available at most Asian supermarkets in the canned section. Their delicate aroma and sweet and sour finish make them a great pairing with these imperial rolls.

This recipe can be doubled, or even tripled and fried in several additional batches, 6 to 4 rolls at a time.

Make-Ahead and Storage

The filling can be prepared through Step 5 ahead of time and refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 1 day.

The dipping sauce can be prepared ahead of time and refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 2 days.  If sauce thickens, thin with additional water 1 teaspoon at a time to reach desired consistency.  

Uncooked imperial rolls can be frozen in a single layer, and then stacked with sheets of parchment paper between layers, in an airtight container and frozen for up to 1 month. Do not thaw before frying. Increase frying time from frozen by 2 to 3 minutes.