A Healing and Heartwarming Meal in Đà Nẵng, Việt Nam
A Soul Story From Ẩm Thực Chay: Đà Nẵng, Việt Nam
It was another “Amazonian heat” sort of day in Da Nang, Vietnam. The temperature was hovering mercilessly around 100°F (37.8°C), and the humidity made sure the heat had no escape.
We were set to venture out to Chùa Linh Ứng, the Buddhist temple home to Da Nang’s “Lady Buddha.” My friend Khải Hoàn and I had originally considered walking the 3.7 mi (6.0 km) trek to the temple, but wound up renting an e-scooter. I was beyond grateful for the relative climatic reprieve.
But before journeying up to the temple, breakfast was a must. For this trip, Khải Hoàn had opted into vegetarianism out of compassion for my preferences. He was relying on consistent calories to accommodate the change in diet. My body was feeling a tad under the weather, too, so we knew skipping out on breakfast wouldn’t be ideal.
Coincidentally, we had both marked the same meal prospect on our maps, hoping to get there at least once during our trip. Since it was on the way to Da Nang’s Lady Buddha, this felt like the opportune time to visit Ẩm Thực Chay—a local, highly-rated vegan dinery.
Arriving at Ẩm Thực Chay Đà Nẵng
The ride to the restaurant was exhilarating, with beach views and a constant open-air breeze. Khải Hoàn was proving himself a trusty motorist, acclimating well to the sometimes chaotic patterns of Vietnamese traffic.
Pulling up to the restaurant, we discovered that it was set in the main floor of a family home. This model is a common business concept, owing to Vietnam’s entrepreneurial population.
We parked, stowed our helmets, removed our shoes and stepped inside. The lights were off, and the air was uncharacteristically still. The hours on Google Maps claimed the restaurant would be open, but it clearly wasn’t.
Khải Hoàn called out a couple of greetings. A child appeared, exchanged a few words with my friend, and then scampered upstairs.
Soon, the presumed restaurant owner came down to see us. She apologized, telling us that the restaurant was closed. (By which I mean she told Khải Hoàn, who later translated for me!) Her plan had been to open late that day, to allow herself some rest.
We were understanding—supportive, even. Khải Hoàn had previously mentioned that many Vietnamese businesses operate daily, often beyond posted hours, to sustain their finances and communities. If this woman wanted a break, then she undoubtedly deserved it!
Motherly Vietnamese Hospitality
Khải Hoàn asked for any nearby vegetarian recommendations to supplement our breakfast. For this, our hostess was at a loss—she couldn’t think of any other plant-based options to suggest on the way to Chùa Linh Ứng.
We thanked her and readied ourselves to leave, resolving to search for something else on the road.
With the drawn expression of a dissatisfied mother, our hostess shook her head. She flipped on the lights to the restaurant.
“No,” she told us in quiet English. “Stay. It’s okay.”
My friend exchanged a few words with her in Vietnamese, assuring her that we could find another place to go.
Our hostess wouldn’t have it; her accustomed hospitality had already kicked in. With that, she ushered us to our seats and produced a pair of menus.
Healing and Homeliness
The kitchen had been sleeping before we arrived, so the food took its time, but we didn’t mind. Listening to the crew of friends and family gather in the kitchen to cook had a unique charm to it, akin to the warm clamor of meal preparations on Christmas Day.
When our hostess heard that my throat was ailing me, she instantly knew what it would benefit from. She retreated to the kitchen, then came back with a “Detox” drink. Even by smelling it, I could tell it was abuzz with zips of fresh lemongrass and ginger.
The longer the aromatics sat, the more robust it became—and I was grateful for it. Drinking the tonic felt more effective, and safer, than gulping down anything from a corporate pharmaceutical company. At only 35,000 Vietnamese đồng (~$1.38 USD), it was astronomically more affordable, too.
Our Vegetarian Breakfast
When our cashew salad and mushroom noodle soup arrived, I was immediately captivated by their vibrant colors. That was a theme among all of our dining experiences, though. Vietnam is a striking tapestry of colorful natural and cultural hues—which inherently beautifies their food.
Per custom, Khải Hoàn and I shared both dishes. The soup and salad stood as communal plates between us, ready for individual divvying as the appetite allowed.
I was so instantly enamored with the mushrooms in the soup that Khải Hoàn inquired about them. They were regionally-sourced lion’s mane mushrooms, we were told. Yet another new mushroom to add to my fungi codex! Vietnam had already introduced me to so many of them.
Anyway, it turned out that the broth was a lovely complement to my earlier Detox. By the time we were fixing to leave, it felt as if I’d gone to see a healer—and I suppose in some ways, I had.
Soup Smiles to-go
We couldn’t leave without first requesting extra soup, though. I was not going to miss the chance of basil, tofu and lion’s mane mushrooms for the next day’s breakfast.
The soup arrived deconstructed, with the broth, noodles, and garnishments packed in separate baggies to keep the ingredients’ integrity. The simplicity of it made me think of a motherly figure again, sending her children off with homemade sack lunches.
Our bellies and hearts content, Khải Hoàn and I donned our helmets and motored onward to Da Nang’s Lady Buddha.
⋆.ೃ࿔ :･⚝⭑