I visit Tiệm Lẩu A Ngưu on a rare wintry Saturday evening in Saigon, the perfect occasion to fill one’s stomach with warm broth, noodles, and a host of other tasty accouterments.
On the soft opening of Quán Bụi Group Complex on Võ Trường Toản Street, Thủ Đức City, founder Danh Trần sits down with Saigoneer to reflect on his journey from a single Vietnamese eatery to a multi-concept restaurant group. With nine Quán Bụi restaurants, two Laang Saigon venues, two Sticky Rice Thai eateries, and five Café’In coffee shops, he shares what it takes to stay authentic while evolving with Saigon’s ever-changing culinary landscape.
Vietnam’s South-Central Coast region is going through an especially grueling time of the year as both the local people and authorities have to deal with the aftermath of historic rainfall and flooding. Still, amid the mourning and strenuous rebuilding efforts, moments of levity shine through — a testament to the resilience, optimism, and incredible humor of the Vietnamese people in the face of hardships.
Each time I stop at a traffic light or visit a street food vendor, I can’t help looking around at nearby utility poles and naked patches of wall that are full of posters advertising moving services.
There are dishes that arrive at the table softly, like a whisper from the ocean. They do not seek attention yet draw it in through restraint and balance. At LAVA, InterContinental Phu Quoc’s signature restaurant, beneath an intricate bamboo structure designed by architect Võ Trọng Nghĩa, Chef Dương Quốc Dũng presents his Slipper Lobster Bisque, a dish that mirrors both his journey and his philosophy.
After nearly a week of constant downpour, many provinces of Vietnam’s Central Highlands and South-Central Coast regions have suffered severe flooding and landslides, causing catastrophic damage to local infrastructure, economic activities, and deaths. This has been yet another month of loss and destruction for Vietnam in 2025, which is shaping up to be the most devastating year in recent history due to consecutive powerful typhoons and atypically high rainfall.
When the wind strafes Dạ Ngân’s window, seedpods shake and rattle like spent bullet casings in the tamarind tree that Americans planted decades ago. They also built the large apartment complex where she now lives. It’s an ironic place to call home, considering Dạ Ngân was a resistance fighter in the south during the American War.
There was a game I used to play with my dad whenever we would stop at a traffic light. He would point to a random license plate in front of us and quiz me on where it came from.
During my journey to explore the culinary specialties of Khánh Hòa, I was delighted to discover the nem chua and chả lụa from Diên Khánh, a centuries-old ancient town that’s just 10 kilometers from downtown Nha Trang.
Teachers are probably amongst the most influential figures in our lives, apart from our parents. Their roles are even more elevated in societies like Vietnam’s, where the remnants of Confucian principles are still present even today, placing teachers as figures of utmost authority in the classroom.
Travel site Booking.com dubbed Mũi Né “one of 2026’s trending travel spots,” reflective of the international attention and domestic emphasis the beach city is currently receiving.
Digging into one’s collection of old mementos can be a thrilling experience. From antique watches to tattered letters, these trinkets serve as a remembrance of a period of time in our past. For Kyle Nunas, Saigon’s former Consul General of Canada (2017–2020), his connection with the bustling metropolis began with this collection of old photos captured during a trip to Vietnam over 20 years ago.
From loudspeakers broadcasting construction anthems during wartime to melancholic ballads mourning vanished street corners, Hanoi's soundtrack reveals a city that has never quite learned to live in its present tense.
In April 2023, in the first downpour of southern Vietnam’s rainy season, the narrow rented room where Mã Thị Diệp and her children were staying in Hồ Chí Minh City was inundated by knee-high water.
A single color has no intrinsic meaning, but rather contains and reflects the many emotions, memories, and experiences an individual associates with it. Red, for example, means something different to everyone, particularly those who look deeply and with great intention.
“Everything must be really fresh, made-to-order, colorful, and fragrant. Everything has its place, and is arranged exquisitely!” The food in the 2008 feature film Trăng nơi đáy giếng , adapted from a short story by the same name of Trần Thùy Mai, is a vivid depiction of Huế’s culinary creations — rustic, delicate, and ever-enticing. It’s evident in the tuber that Hạnh meticulously carves and then scents using pandan; in the bowl of lotus soup that she makes by wrapping in flowers the night before.
“They can do what they want. The city owns the zoo. They could sell all the animals here. They could turn it into a golf course. We’re just little people — you and me.”