I love the smell of coffee in the morning
You won't find a Starbucks in Hanoi yet but traditional cafes are still in a dog fight to hold out against the more modern outlets springing up across the town.
You won’t think it is a café at first. Tucked between a posh jewelry and a souvenir shop, Cafe Giang is nothing but a narrow corridor in the cramped Old Quarter. Inside there’s a couple of tiny plastic stools accompanying small carved tables. That’s it.
Little seems to have changed in this cafe. A rickety glass cabinet displays packs of Milo and cigarette boxes. A slice of the modern life is revealed by three posters of Joy and Splash soft drinks hanging on the yellowing wall, next to a fading picture of the family.
But Cafe Giang offers one of the best coffees in town, the famous ca phe trung, hot coffee with a raw egg beaten into it, with or without milk.
This is of the city’s original family-run establishments, debuting some half a century ago, when the country was still under French rule. As such, the cup of coffee here has a rich history, too. Soon after French colonists invaded Indochina and set up coffee plantations, cafés lined Hanoi’s streets, mainly serving wealthy foreign residents. These outlets roasted beans with butter to cater to French tastes.
Cafe Giang, and also the equally famous Cafe Nhan, have survived through French and American wars. Today, with modern outlets mushrooming all over the city, high-rises replacing the old dilapidated houses, Cafe Giang still proves to be a magnet of coffee connoisseurs in the Old Quarter.
Cafe Giang bears the typical characteristics of a traditional outlet that was set up in a tiny space – no flamboyant umbrellas or cushioned chairs. You have to walk through a narrow passage or climb a dark staircase before entering a room where people quietly sit on tiny wooden stools around small tables.
Cafe Pho Cu (a.k.a. the Secret Café) on Hang Bong street is another old school outlet. Sandwiched between two silk shops, this place is not easy to find. The cafe is an ancient house with a small passage leading to, surprisingly, a large courtyard. It is an oasis away from the manic traffic on the streets. Coffee here is served in the open air, under a red tile roof or next to a gushing water well.
But if you want to watch the traffic, you can find cafés lining the small sidewalks under the trees, where you can sit on small stools, watch as the hot water drips through the ground coffee and filter and into a glass or a ceramic cup below.
During winter the glass is placed within bowls of steaming hot water to keep the coffee warm. Be ready to stand up though, as many cafés are not allowed to serve customers on the sidewalks so police may come suddenly and take chairs and tables away (hence the prevalence of cheap plastic chairs).
Traditionally, Hanoi cafes do not have anything gaudy or showy. A cafe is where Hanoi residents come to relax, exchange gossip and to sip a bittersweet local blend, where old men would sit for hours, watching the world goes by.
But these traditional cafes are now under threat from modern styled outlets. Just six years ago, Hanoi began to see the sudden rise of establishments bearing the large signs of Lipton or Dilmah tea. These outlets became a magnet to the young, who craved for flavours like mint, strawberry and orange.
Then these outlets were quickly outdone by a new competitor, Trung Nguyen. Dozens of Trung Nguyen coffee shops, the country’s first domestic franchise, sprung up all over the capital. The outlets looked identical, featured comfortable chairs, air-conditioned rooms and loud music.
These outlets were packed day and night with students, who were curious about the Central Highlands coffee, partly because of a much publicised dispute over labeling between Trung Nguyen and another coffee producer in Daklak. The protracted dispute was won eventually by Trung Nguyen, who then expanded aggressively across the country.
Trung Nguyen also created curiosity over a sort of coffee, ca phe chon or weasel coffee. To produce this coffee, growers in Daklak take the best beans from each crop and feed them to a weasel. The beans are then collected again, ground and brewed as usual. Basically the weasel’s digestive system roasts the coffee bean. At first, many were shy to try “weasel” coffee, when they were told how it was processed. Yet, if you were brave enough to try it, I’d wager you’d soon be hooked.
Recently Hanoi’s cafe society has seen the emergence of newcomers, or rather contenders, such as Highlands coffee and New Window, that bear a more “Saigonese” style, with spacious rooms, large sofas, or cushioned benches, colourful decor and loud music.
Typically, modern outlets pay much attention to architecture and decoration. Two Nang Saigon cafes on Nguyen Chi Thanh street, for example, boast funky decoration and stylish rattan chairs and tables, trying to create a feeling of luxury. These outlets are far from the traditional café, and serve not only coffee but a multitude of fruit cocktails, alcoholic cocktails, beer and wine, plus breakfast and lunch.
Though Starbucks has yet to hit Hanoi, the trendy young Vietnamese are already savvy to café latte, cappuccino or espresso. A sign of globalisation, for sure, (though I presume ca phe trung has yet to make it to Seattle) but let’s hope smaller, traditional cafes stick around.
|
