By Tim Van Dijk ( Professor , Traveller ) Guest Post
I am not a chef, nor do I claim to be an expert in Vietnamese cuisine. I am a professor of history from Utrecht, with a fondness for old books, slow travel, and long conversations with strangers. My wife, Marijke, and I had planned our trip to Vietnam as something of a break from our usual academic conferences and quiet northern routines. What we found instead was heat, chaos, and a bowl of beef noodle soup that I will never forget.
It was April in Saigon (I still like to call it Saigon, although officially it is Ho Chi Minh City). The sun was high, the air thick like honey, and scooters buzzed around us like flies around a picnic. We had been walking since morning, our shirts sticking to our backs, stopping only to admire colonial buildings and sip strong iced coffee that could wake the dead.
And then we smelled it. A rising steam with a scent of anise, roasted onion, and boiled marrow. It came from a cart parked at the corner of a narrow street in District 1, shaded by a makeshift tarp and flanked by red plastic stools. There was no menu. Only one word painted in white across the cart’s glass window: Phở Bò.
A Lunch That Tastes Like History
The lady behind the cart could not have been more than five feet tall. She had deep lines on her face, a bamboo conical hat shading her eyes, and hands that moved with the rhythm of someone who has done the same thing every day for decades.
She smiled at us, motioned toward two stools, and ladled steaming broth into two bowls as if we were old customers. No questions asked. She placed them before us, and then came a tray of fresh herbs, lime wedges, sliced chili, and bean sprouts. We nodded our thanks and sat, uncertain but curious.
The first sip of broth was a kind of quiet revelation. Rich, warm, not heavy — it carried the essence of bones, spice, and something else. Time, perhaps. The rice noodles were soft but not mushy. The beef slices, still pink at the edges, softened as they cooked in the broth. Marijke and I said nothing for a few minutes. We didn’t need to.
Later, I tried my best Dutch-influenced English to speak with the lady. Through smiles and gestures, and with the help of a younger vendor nearby who spoke some English, she agreed to show me how she made her Phở Bò. It was not a formal cooking class — just a quiet exchange under a blue tarp, over bowls and boiling pots.
What follows is what she taught me, in the simplest way I can retell it.
Phở Bò (Vietnamese Beef Noodle Soup) – Street Recipe from Saigon
Serves: 6
Time: 6 hours (for broth), 20 minutes (assembly)
Ingredients
For the Broth
- 1.5 kg beef leg bones and knuckle bones
- 500 g beef brisket
- 2 large onions (halved)
- 1 large piece of ginger (about 10 cm, halved)
- 5 star anise
- 4 cloves
- 1 cinnamon stick
- 1 tsp coriander seeds
- 1 tsp fennel seeds
- 1 tbsp salt
- 1 tbsp fish sauce
- Rock sugar (a small lump, or 1 tbsp sugar)
- 4 litres water
For the Bowls
- 400 g dried flat rice noodles (banh pho)
- 300 g raw beef sirloin (thinly sliced across the grain)
- Thinly sliced onion (optional)
- Spring onions (chopped)
- Fresh coriander
- Bean sprouts
- Thai basil
- Lime wedges
- Fresh chili slices
- Hoisin sauce and sriracha (optional, for table)
Step-by-Step Instructions
Step 1: Clean the Bones
Place beef bones in a large pot, cover with water, and bring to a boil. Let boil for 5–10 minutes. Drain and rinse the bones under cold water. This removes impurities and keeps the broth clear.
Step 2: Char the Onion and Ginger
On an open flame or under a broiler, char the onions and ginger until blackened. Peel off the burnt bits. This adds depth and sweetness to the broth.
Step 3: Toast the Spices
In a dry pan, toast the star anise, cloves, cinnamon, coriander seeds, and fennel seeds for a few minutes until fragrant.
Step 4: Make the Broth
Place cleaned bones, brisket, charred onion and ginger, toasted spices, salt, fish sauce, rock sugar, and water into a large stockpot. Bring to a boil, then lower to a gentle simmer. Skim off any foam. Let it simmer uncovered for 5–6 hours. Remove the brisket after 1.5 to 2 hours and set aside. Slice it thin when cool.
Step 5: Soak and Cook the Noodles
Soak rice noodles in warm water for 30 minutes. Then cook briefly in boiling water for 30–60 seconds before serving.
Step 6: Assemble the Bowls
In each bowl:
- Add a handful of noodles.
- Add slices of brisket and raw sirloin (the hot broth will cook the raw beef).
- Pour hot broth over the top.
- Top with onions, herbs, and spring onions.
Step 7: Serve with Garnishes
Let each person add bean sprouts, lime, chili, and sauces to taste.
The Warm Silence of a Full Belly
We paid her 60,000 dong for the two bowls — just over two euros. She smiled and bowed. We bowed back. I do not know her name. But her soup lives in my memory as something deeper than food. It was a cultural conversation, a silent lecture in flavour and patience.
Later that evening, as Marijke and I sat on our hotel balcony with a bottle of Dalat wine, she said, “You know, I think that soup has more history in it than some of your lectures.” I could not disagree.
Saigon is loud, hot, and sometimes confusing. But in that little cart, under a tarp on a sweating April afternoon, I found something unexpectedly profound: a bowl that held not just broth and beef, but time, memory, and grace.
