Vietnamese Food 101: Recipes to Get You Started

This introductory list of Vietnamese recipes includes world-famous restaurant dishes alongside classic homestyle cooking.

Collage of Vietnamese dishes with borders

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“If I just have a meal of canh, kho, and rau, you know, I’m just really happy,” says Andrea Nguyen of the soups, braises, and vegetable dishes, respectively, that are essential categories of Vietnamese cuisine. Nothing makes Nguyen, a Vietnamese food expert, cookbook author, and educator, feel more grounded than a homestyle meal featuring food that “would speak to what my mother would prepare for me,” she says.

Each of those categories of Vietnamese cooking is important to understand for anyone learning the basics, but Nguyen often points to individual dishes like phở, bánh mì, and gỏi cuốn (summer rolls) as good introductions for those just getting their bearings. They all combine in a single dish a starch, vegetables and herbs, a protein, and at least one punchy condiment—almost always featuring nước mắm (fish sauce)—to tie it all together. These are all elements of many a Vietnamese meal, whether packed into a single bowl of phở or spread across the multiple dishes of a homestyle meal. 

Overhead view of Sauteed Morning Glory with Beef graphic

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Linh Trinh, a PhD candidate at the University of Michigan whose work focuses on culinary history, tells me the flavors and cooking techniques of Vietnam come from an accumulation of many different layers of influence. This includes Chinese occupation (257 BCE–938 CE) and French colonialism (1859–1954), as well as influences from Cambodia and India. On any given day in Vietnam, I could eat phở for breakfast, chicken curry with a toasted baguette for lunch, and grilled rice paper sprinkled with Laughing Cow cheese and mayonnaise as an afternoon snack. 

This adaptability extends to today, and can be seen in how Vietnamese communities have sought new ways to keep the spirit of our food alive even when far from home. I asked Los Angeles–based Hong Pham of the cooking blog The Ravenous Couple what defines Vietnamese cuisine to him, and his first words were “inventive” and “resilient.”

When Vietnamese communities in the diaspora had limited access to fresh coconut water for simmering our pork and eggs, we found that Puerto Rican Coco Rico, a coconut-flavored soda, worked just as well as the real stuff. When banana leaves were unheard of and difficult to find in the States, we used milk cartons to shape our bánh tét (glutinous rice cakes) for Tết. We've even imparted our flavor into the Gulf Coast’s delicacies to create Viet-Cajun seafood, leaving our footprint in the American foodways. 

Scattering filling over rice mix on banana leaf

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In the sections below, you’ll find an introduction to Vietnamese cuisine—with recipes—for those who want an understanding that includes, but also extends beyond, the restaurant dishes that are sometimes the only connection a non-Vietnamese has to the food.

The dishes in this introductory list include a mix of popular restaurant fare (often served as a stand-alone meal) as well as home-style dishes served as part of a multi-dish spread. Together, they demonstrate that Vietnamese cooking relies less on complicated techniques or a set of strict rules, and more a refined balance of taste and texture, with the layering of ingredients and flavors happening both in the kitchen and at the dining table. While there's no one thing that defines all of Vietnamese food, rice and fish sauce are the pantry workhorses regardless of region, and people make extensive use of nature’s bounty, whether it’s from the earth, the ocean, or the river. 

Vietnamese Broken Rice graphic

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This is by no means a definitive list of the country's rich and varied ways of cooking, but instead a jumping-off point. Below you'll see familiar and comforting dishes like phở and bánh mì alongside less internationally famous (but just as important) preparations that will help nudge students of Vietnamese cooking towards a more well-rounded sense of what it’s like to eat like a Vietnamese.

Please read on, then join us at the Vietnamese table—wherever you may be. As chef Nini Nguyen says, “no bite is ever truly the same.”

Rice and Rice Flour-Based Dishes

First, we must start with rice, an important economic crop and a major staple in the Vietnamese diet. Ăn cơm literally translates to "eating rice," but is synonymous with "having a meal." The common greeting, “Have you eaten rice?” is understood as, “Have you had lunch or dinner?”

A bowl of fluffy rice is often an indicator of a good cook. “As a young child the first thing [my mother] taught me was to make rice,” Andrea Nguyen says. She was taught to rinse the rice ten times, count out loud each time she did it, and, of course, learn the almighty knuckle method for determining the correct amount of water (place your index finger on top of the rice in a rice cooker and fill it with water until it reaches the first knuckle).

Even imperfect rice grains are treasured. Gạo tấm, broken rice grains that are a byproduct of the milling process, are served with grilled pork chops, chả (Vietnamese-style egg meatloaf), bì (shredded pig’s skin), or a combination of each to make cơm tấm. For crunch and freshness, there are also cucumber slices and pickled daikon and radish, as well as tangy, savory fish sauce on the side.

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When ground into a flour and mixed with water to form a batter, you have the foundation for a variety of bánh, a broad term that describes all things sweet and savory made from starch. I’ve always been captivated by the making of steamed rice rolls called bánh cuốn: Vendors pour the milky batter onto a taut cloth spread over a pot of boiling water to steam it, then deftly transfer the translucent rice sheet to a plate, ready to be rolled. These can then be eaten with fish sauce, stuffed with filling, and served with herbs; the specific fillings and flavorings vary depending on the locality. 

Minor tweaks to that rice-flour base give you bánh xèo, identified by its crisp, lacy edges and yellow tint from ground turmeric. This crepe-like bánh is aptly named for the sizzling sound (xèo) its batter makes when hitting the pan. Bánh xèo is folded into a half-moon shape that contains its filling: shrimp, pork, and bean sprouts. When eating, diners tear a piece of the crepe, wrap it in a piece of lettuce or mustard greens, and add more herbs before dipping the whole parcel into fish sauce.

While many of Vietnam's rice-based foods were adopted from the Chinese, bánh tráng (rice paper) is a uniquely Vietnamese invention, writes historian Vu Hong Lien in Rice and Baguette: A History of Food in Vietnam. It’s made in a similar fashion to bánh cuốn, but the rice sheet is dried under the sun on a bamboo mat after cooking, rendering a woven pattern onto its surface. In her book Pleasure of the Vietnamese Table, Mai Pham notes that rice paper roll platters—which involve the use of bánh tráng to wrap morsels of fish and meat to dip in sauces—is a core Vietnamese practice that we developed and continued to do. 

Bánh tráng is the wrapper for chả giò (also called nem rán), too: fried spring rolls filled with ground pork, wood-ear mushroom, mung bean vermicelli, among other ingredients. These crispy bundles can be served as snacks or with bún (rice vermicelli) and fresh herbs for a bowl of bún chả giò (rice vermicelli bowl with spring rolls).

Noodle Dishes

A majority of Vietnamese noodles are made from rice flour, while their wheat-based counterpart is generally found in dishes with Chinese origins. For Andrea Nguyen, nothing captures the regional palate better than three noodle soups: phở, bún bò Huế, and hủ tiếu, all of which use rice noodles, though the noodles in each come in different sizes and shapes and are known by different names. 

In phở, the noodle is called bánh phở. Phở's history remains murky (some say it’s a derivative of the French pot au feu, while others argue it came from Chinese street vendors), but most scholars agree on northern Vietnam as its birthplace. A bowl of this style of phở is dainty, its broth crystal clear, clean-tasting, and delicate. “It's saltier than sweet, savory, and the flavors are very balanced, and there's a purity about it,” Nguyen says, “The Northerners oftentimes don't serve their phở with a pile of herbs or a ton of bean sprouts.”

When the Geneva Accords partitioned Vietnam into two parts in 1954, nearly a million Northerners migrated southward and brought phở with them. Southerners took this noodle soup in stride and adapted it to the local taste, adding sugar, more cuts of beef, and a garden's worth of fresh herbs, as you can see in this recipe for phở Saigon. At the end of the Vietnam War in 1975, hundreds of thousands of south Vietnamese fled the country and phở again followed them on their tumultuous journeys to different corners of the world. The sweet flavor profile common to the phở and other dishes served abroad thus reflects the southern-Vietnamese palate of the diaspora.

Nguyen thinks Southerners’ openness to embracing big bold flavors (thanks to the region’s fertile agricultural land and its location as a trading port) is also manifested in hủ tiếu, which can refer to the dish itself as well as the rice noodle from which it's made. Hủ tiếu can be prepared many ways, both as a brothy soup or dry with the broth on the side, and topped with a wide range of proteins and condiments, from pork to shrimp, chicken, fish, chile oil, and more—a kaleidoscopic noodle soup, she says. One popular rendition is hủ tiếu Nam Vang, named after Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia, to reflect its roots, but there are plenty of other variations in the smaller cities and towns in the Mekong Delta.

Bún bò Huế, meanwhile, reflects the perseverance of the people from Vietnam’s central region, where life is challenged by punishing weather conditions: Tough cuts like pig trotters and beef shanks are simmered for hours in a hot and spicy broth until tender, accented by the funkiness of mắm ruốc (fermented shrimp paste). Bún, a thick, round noodle, is sturdy enough to carry these flavors, while mint, shredded lettuce, and banana blossoms bring freshness and brightness. “[Bún bò Huế] has these interplays of textures and flavors that are not always harmonious, but [they] come together in a bowl,” Nguyen says, “It's so delicious. And I feel like that's very, very Huế.”

Street Food

Street food culture runs deep in Vietnam—you can find everything from small bites to a full-fledged meal served in roadside establishments of all sizes. When someone craves phở, they go to a phở shop; if they feel like eating bánh cuốn, a quick trip to the market will suffice. Many street vendors specialize in one or only a few dishes and have been practicing their craft for years—in the same way that one is more likely to buy a croissant than go to the trouble of making them from scratch, many of these labor-intensive street foods are left to the pros for a quick and affordable meal. 

Bánh mì, for example, is seldom (if ever) made at home, given how convenient it is to buy one. Introduced to the Vietnamese by French colonialists in the 19th century, the baguette was greeted with great joy and modified to suit the country’s hot and humid weather. Compared to its French counterpart, a Vietnamese-style baguette is shorter, with a more tender crumb, a shatteringly crisp crust, and a light and hollow interior that makes stuffing the sandwich easier. Essential components include one or more protein fillings like meatballs, egg, or pork roll, pickled carrot and daikon, cucumber, a splash of Maggi (or other soy sauce), and mayonnaise or pâté. When I was a student in Vietnam, bánh mì stuffed with an omelet and a schmear of pâté was always a delightful and substantial breakfast. 

Side view of banh mi

Serious Eats / Vy Tran

Vietnam’s robust street food scene is also where innovation happens, says Tu David Phu, an Oakland-based chef and former Top Chef competitor. Young cooks combine traditional ingredients to create new dishes that quickly charm locals and visitors alike. One of his favorites is bánh tráng trộn (rice paper salad), shredded rice paper mixed with an array of toppings like dried shrimp, fried shallots, peanuts, quail eggs, and beef jerky. Bánh tráng nướng (grilled rice paper), a ubiquitous snack on Saigon streets, is now recreated at Di An Di, a Vietnamese restaurant in Brooklyn.

Because of their convenience and speedy service, many street foods are stand-alone meals, while home-style dining is often a communal experience consisting of rice and at least two or more dishes. Indeed, in Into the Vietnamese Kitchen, Andrea Nguyen writes that a meal of rice, soup, boiled greens, and fish kho (fish in caramel sauce) is “Viet soul food.”

Canh (Soup)

Canh is a generic term for all soups made with a clear broth, usually served as a palate cleanser to balance other saltier components of the meal. People make use of whatever they have on hand—even the leftover liquid from blanching greens can be seasoned and repurposed into a soup. Most often, it's made from vegetables cooked in water that gets a boost of flavor from meat, dried shrimp, or fish. 

Across Vietnam, canh chua (sour soup) is one way to celebrate the abundance of aquatic animals, both from the sea and an extensive network of freshwater rivers, ponds, and lakes in the Mekong and Red River Deltas. Coming from a family with fishing tradition and nước mắm craft in Phú Quốc island, Phu’s parents carried a mentality of resourcefulness with them to Oakland, where they made canh chua with salmon head. The fatty, flavorful cut—too often thrown away—shone in a vibrant broth with okra, bean sprouts, pineapple, tomatoes, and fresh turmeric.

Canh chua cá, a northern Vietnamese fish soup with dill and tomato, is another example. It's quick to make and features seared freshwater fish in a mildly tangy broth infused with chunks of tomato, a touch of vinegar, and aromatic fresh dill.

Kho (Braises and Stews)

Kho is a group of dishes in which an ingredient is simmered in a mahogany sauce made from nước màu (caramel sauce), fish sauce (or soy sauce), and aromatics. Traditionally, they are cooked in a claypot and can feature almost anything—pork, chicken, shrimp, fish, squid, or tofu. Fundamental to kho’s assertive flavor and bittersweet edge is the combination of fish sauce and sugar, but every cook has a way of adding their own flair to the dish. For instance, Phu’s mother uses whole caramelized peppercorns (a Phú Quốc delicacy) in her fish kho for an earthy kick, while Nini Nguyen, a New Orleans–based chef who is working on a cookbook about Vietnamese-American food, says her grandmother relies on a paste of chile and salt to add some floral heat. 

The amount of cooking liquid can vary widely; some, like thịt kho trứng, a pork and egg kho that’s eaten during Têt or Lunar New Year celebrations, are akin to a stew, while others, like tôm rim (braised shrimp) have their liquid reduced to an almost sticky consistency. Regardless of how much liquid is used, a pot of kho is rich and deeply savory, a source of sustenance that can be made in large batches to last several days and feed many people.

Rau (Vegetables and Salads)

A plate of vegetables, whether raw, boiled, pickled, or stir-fried, is as important as meat and rice in a Vietnamese meal, adding needed freshness and texture to complement brothy soups and tender braises. Raw cucumbers, steamed cabbage, carrots, and leafy greens pick up a sweet and salty edge from fish sauce and any liquids from kho (stews) that are served alongside. Stir-fries are mildly seasoned with aromatics like garlic or ginger; the most common is made with rau muống, also called morning glory or water spinach, an aquatic plant growing in abundance and well-loved for its versatility. 

Vietnamese salads (gỏi) are dressed in a sweet and tangy vinaigrette made from vinegar or lime juice, fish sauce (or salt), sugar, and a minimal amount of oil. Some are eaten as snacks or appetizers, while others are enjoyed as side dishes. For example, the chicken used for the stock in chicken congee is reserved and shredded to toss in a salad of cabbage and carrot (gỏi gà), which then accompanies the congee. The addition of roasted peanuts and fried shallots provide a contrasting crunch.

Sweets

Most Vietnamese sweet treats can be both a dessert and a snack. Chè (loosely translated as “sweet soup”) is a generic term that covers all sorts of saucy and soupy dishes made from fruits, legumes, or tubers simmered in a base of coconut milk or served with a light sugar syrup. Across Vietnam, countless renditions of cold and hot chè abound.

One of my favorite chè is chè chuối (banana chè), in which the pisang awak banana cultivar, prized for its firm flesh and complex sweet-tangy flavor, is cooked in coconut milk thickened with tapioca pearls. A popular cold treat is chè ba màu (tri-color chè), recognized by its distinct layers of yellow (mung beans), green (pandan-flavored jelly) and reddish brown (red beans), and adorned with a drizzle of coconut sauce. 

In the vast world of bánh, you’ll find some that are sweet, including Western-style pastries like bánh su (cream puffs or choux pastries) and cookies next to local delights such as bánh bò (honeycomb cake) and bánh da lợn (layered mung bean cake).