Bánh Mì

story by Khanh-Anh Le
photo by Julia Wong

The hearty crunch of the fresh baguette is softened by layers of Vietnamese ham, roasted pork and Vietnamese deli meat. The meat contrasts with the creamy, homemade mayonnaise and salty pork paté. Pickled carrot, rad ish shreds, cilantro, and jalapeno peppers com plete the sandwich.

This is bánh mì, the delicious marriage of Vietnamese and French cuisine. The sandwich, with the heartiness of a hoagie and the sophistication of a panini, is not just a few “exotic” ingredients slapped in a bun. The pork and pickled greens are distinctly Viêt, while the crusty baguette, paté, and mayonnaise are culinary vestiges of French imperialism.

While I grew up with the đăc biêt (“special combo”) variety of the bánh mì sandwich, my parents had all different kinds in Viêt Nam. My new favorite is bánh mì thit nuÓng (“grilled meat sand wich”). Bánh mì thit nuÓng boasts hunks of grilled pork—sweetened by a marinade of soy sauce and lemongrass—with pickled vegeta bles and greens.

In Little Sài Gòn, California, and Austin, Texas, I’ve tried the bánh mì franchise called Lee’s Sandwiches, but I much prefer the made-to-order bánh mì at Philly’s Viêt Hương Restaurant (located at 1100 Washington Avenue). Every time my family visited Phila (that’s Viêt for Philly), we brought home a dozen or more bánh mì: six bánh mì đăc biêt and six bánh mì thit nuÓng. My brother and I ate them happily in the four-hour car ride home to Connecticut, careful not to sprinkle crumbs about the car. For the next week or so, our bánh mì was the envy of our classmates who ate their usual ham and cheese sandwiches. Bánh mì Viêt is not an alternative to a hoagie or a Philly cheese-steak. Pardon the Taoist reference, but it simply is.