THE ONLY THING THAT COULD POSSIBLY MAKE LOTUS POND'S VIETNAMESE STREET FOOD ANY BETTER IS . . .
An icon of street food culture, a silent witness to adaptability and resilience, this low plastic chair is the most ubiquitous thing you will see while traveling across my favorite country in the world. Those who visit Vietnam are wise if they take every opportunity to sit in one while eating life-altering bowls of broth and noodles and seafood next to streets packed with buzzing motorbikes. Like I did.
Excuse me while I get carried away by sweet, sour, salty, crunchy nostalgia.
But eating really good Vietnamese food does this to me, and Lotus Pond's menu offers a wide array of fun dishes no one else is serving. Before we get into discussing those dishes, though, understanding how a humble, utilitarian piece of polyethylene furniture became an iconic symbol of a country that dates back 4,000 years is a fascinating dive: being aware of it, I believe, will add so much more joy to your dining experience.
Here's the throughline: Vietnam has always been a low-sitting culture, one that loves to place food in the middle of everything, and one that likes to sit close, face to face, while sharing it. Demonstrating how it's done, this is my dad (who is 6' 2") and my nephew, who visited my Ho Chi Minh City neighborhood in 2009:
This kind of communal eating used to take place on mats made from dried reeds until the French paved the roads in the late 1800's, which made mat sitting suddenly very uncomfortable. So they made low stools out of wood and other not-so-ideal (or water resistant) materials to continue their street food business culture. They endured war, famine, and many iterations of economic collapse this way until 1975, when private vending was banned altogether following reunification. Business licenses could be seized at any moment, which meant that for a whole decade, vendors desperate to survive had to risk everything to sell on the street, and had to be ready to pack up and leave at a moment's notice.
In 1986, a huge national pivot occurred when economic reforms reopened private enterprise, and the street food economy sprung up yet again. Manufacturing scaled up, allowing for the mass production of plastics. Imagine how many problems these plastic stools solved! They were lightweight, waterproof, easily stackable, and cheap. They fit into a whole new economy. Motorbikes were used for easy transporting, portable burners for cooking, and folding tables for serving.
Have you ever heard that Vietnamese people are extremely tough? 100% true.
Anyway, this is me in 2008, sitting on the coalescence of all of this history, becoming an authority who would someday be able to write this blog post (while eating turmeric rice cakes with shrimp, by the way, which can be found at Tamarind Tree in Seattle's ID, and not many other places).
So, yes, now let's talk about Lotus Pond's food.
Sorry, I mean, 'Now let's talk about Lotus Pond's street food.' Because every kind of food can be found on the streets in Vietnam--from pho to banh mi to everything we're about to discuss.
BH' = from the Banh Hoi section: 'thin rice vermicelli noodles woven into intricate bundles'
BH4: Lotus Pond Combo Woven Vermicelli, $23
The most common of low plastic chair eating experiences: the do-it-yourself noodle/herb/veggie/grilled meat platter.
How many evenings, late at night, did my Vietnamese friends invite me to sit out on the street to enjoy this interactive dish with a cold 333 beer (on ice!--that's the way they do it there)? Often we would get a platter with stacks of rice paper rounds that we softened in bowls of water, then filled to make our own fresh spring rolls. But I really love the woven vermicelli because it's so user-friendly; all you have to do is wrap your choice of platter fun in a piece of green leaf lettuce and dip it into the nuoc cham (fish sauce, lime, water, and sugar dipping sauce), like this:
Lotus Pond's combo platter is the way to go because you get so many mix and match ingredients to play with: minced shrimp formed around a skewer (my favorite), charbroiled pork, pork meatballs, lemongrass beef, woven vermicelli bundles, basil, mint, pickled carrots and daikon, cucumber, fried shallots, green onions, green leaf lettuce, and nuoc cham.
If you're sitting at a giant American table in giant American chairs, this is a perfect two-to-four person eating activity; everyone present must be able to reach and assemble.
'A'= from the appetizer section
A6: Fried Calamari, $11
At the end of my neighborhood street in Saigon, two men set up huge woks every night and expertly tossed up squid five different ways. I loved all of the ways, but my favorite preparation was huge squares of calamari, scored, lightly breaded with a salt and pepper coating, deep fried, and served with a side of nuoc cham.
Lotus Pond cuts their calamari into strips, but their preparation competes. Serving it with a side of sweet chili sauce is a misstep, but that's an easy fix: just order an extra side of nuoc cham, and try it both ways. You'll like my way better.
Below is a picture of my 'Squid Five Ways' birthday party (and yes, of course we are sitting on small plastic chairs, but at an uncharacteristically high table):
Steamed tapioca dumplings filled with pork and shrimp wrapped in banana leaves is one of my very favorite dishes in this world. These dumplings are chewy, slightly sticky (close in texture to Boba tea pearls) and, when the grilled pork/seafood glutinous rice packet is dipped in the nuoc cham, it tastes like pure happiness.
I never found these in my neighborhood, but after I started riding my own motorbike to the American International School in another district, I had the freedom to explore other markets. One morning I stumbled upon two women who steamed banh bot loc daily, so I started getting up 20 minutes earlier to eat First Breakfast in my market, then ride to theirs for what the Hobbits would call "second breakfast."
After a few weeks of daily visits, the women started making me a to-go bag, timing it for a sort of motorbike drive-thru pickup. Overall, the Vietnamese people I met appreciated my openness to their food--and, of course, my enthusiasm for it--so these transactions brought all three of us a lot of joy. I loved my 'glutinous rice with a side of laughter' mornings.
A8: Beef La Lot, $12
Beef La Lot--marinated and minced charbroiled beef wrapped in minty, peppery betel leaves, served with a side of pineapple anchovy sauce--made appearances in my market every so often. The morning I discovered this combination of earthy leaves, tender beef and pungent, sweet anchovy sauce, my taste buds did a dance they had never done before. But when I went back the next day (because how could I not), they weren't there. Or the next. I panicked.
I knew exactly when some specialties would be available, like vegetarian items during full moon days ('when the moon is round' they would say). But there was no telling when the Bo La Lot vendor would be back. I decided the only thing to do was to pass by her spot every day, just in case--even though it required walking a few alleys past convenience. About once every two weeks I was rewarded, and the luck factor always made them taste even more delicious.
The only thing I have to say about Lotus Pond's version is "they are doing it right."
If it sounds like I was spending a whole lot of time finding food in the mornings, I was. Mornings are made for prime eating in Vietnam, for everything imaginable, including soup!
'N' = the noodle soup section
N3: Wonton & BBQ Pork Egg Noodle Soup, $17
Speaking of soup, yes, I know that many Vietnamese restaurants have wonton soup on their menu. However, Lotus Pond's reminds me so much of the soup I used to eat in my alley late at night that it qualifies as a 'rare' menu item in my book (or blog).
My neighborhood wonton soup vendor never set up his cart until about 9 pm, so it was always late when I would venture out and find him making dumplings from scratch, cutting homemade egg noodles, and slicing marinated BBQ pork loins.
Oh how I loved eating all of this freshness in his clear pork bone broth, all by myself, while watching the activity of the street under night lights at my own plastic table.
Lotus Pond makes their own wontons, too, and they make them fat with minced pork and shrimp. There's a slight sweetness to the filling that I can't quite place, but that I love so much. Their BBQ pork slices are tender, and their pork bone broth is clear and perfect, topped with fried shallots and green onions--no need to add anything. For someone like me who usually tends toward 'things other than soup', this bowl always hits just-the-right spot.
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There are sixteen items in Lotus Pond's appetizer section, including 'escargot ham' and crispy rice cakes topped with dried shredded pork, and another favorite of mine on a side, special menu: banh cuon--steamed rice paper filled with ground pork and wood ear mushrooms.
So much to explore.
The late Anthony Bourdain also loved Vietnam best, and called the act of eating street food there "The path to true happiness and wisdom." In an episode of "Parts Unknown," he sits on a red plastic stool on the street with motorbikes whizzing by behind him. "I'm back," he says, "back in Vietnam, with a shit-eating grin for the duration. A giddy, silly, foolish man beyond caring."
I like to think of him somewhere on the other side right now, enjoying the food he loves the most.
Whether or not you believe in an afterlife that includes Vietnamese street food (I certainly do), I assure you that while eating at Lotus Pond, you'll be a giddy person, beyond caring.
Optional Fun Fieldwork:
Here is what the highway view of Lotus Pond would look like if all was well in my Seattle Vietnamese street food universe*:
Lotus Pond
12752 Aurora Ave N
Seattle, WA 98133
(206)588-0267
Open Tuesday through Sunday, 10 AM - 9 PM
Closed Mondays
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