Noodles noodles noodles, I can never eat enough noodles, in broth, in miso, in curry, fried with thick sweet soy, deep fried topped with a mountain of veg, fried by a South Indian man, fried by a street hawker, made with well water from only one city in the world, pulled, cut or rolled, noodles made with egg, rice, buckwheat, mung bean, semolina or sweet potato, the varieties are endless.
When we were in Saigon, Vietnam, I had noodles in soup almost every morning for a month interspersed with a Banh Mi here and there. That made me happy as a clam, ready to start the outrageously hot day.
When in Saigon we went to Ben Thanh market to check out the local food stands for breakfast. My eyes look around to find the stall most populated and with the freshest ingredients, we pull up a stool and order. We both have Bun Suong, while you cant actually see what’s in the bowl from our hasty photos, inside is shrimp paste rolls, huge succulent prawns and rice vermicelli in delicious broth and the customary plate of fresh herbs and sprouts, you know I could eat this every day. The big gringo orders another bowl, the stall girls giggle. Happiness.
Walking around the market we eye more gorgeous foods and friendly smiles. Vietnamese are pretty smiley people, super hard working and industrious. Give a smile, get a smile, vice versa.
They Said