36 degrees. And yet, hot fish noodles.

36 degrees. Ho Chi Minh in the early afternoon has gone past "hot" — it's downright painful. The very air outside stabs at your whole body; even waiting at a traffic light, it's hot enough to sizzle. And yet, on days exactly like this, for some reason there's a bowl of noodles you find yourself craving.

Fish soup. And it's piping hot, too. The noodles aren't pho or bún — they're bánh đa. They're thin, flat rice noodles, and rather than a smooth "slippery" feel, they slide down your throat with a "whoosh." They're narrower than Japanese kishimen, and above all thin — really flimsy and thin. They're light. But just when you think it's going to taste light and delicate, the fish in it hits you hard. There's cá rô — white fish that's been deep-fried (cá rô means "torpedo fish"). It comes with two kinds: stir-fried deep-fried snakehead fish meat, and fish that's been minced into a paste and made into something like satsuma-age (fish cake) — maybe you'd call it tsumire (fish balls). Here they chop it up small, but the surface is fragrant and crispy~ while the inside is fluffy and the fat oozes out with a juicy "jurun." Even though it's small, it has a savory richness with real presence — yet it's not greasy at all, because it's wrapped in a huge amount of dill. This combination of "fish + dill" goes surprisingly well on a scorching hot day. It's kind of like how in Japan we eat eel on the Day of the Ox during the dog days of summer.

【Squeezing kumquat over it adds a refreshing touch】 What's more, what makes me happy are the vegetables served alongside. A generous helping of shiso and lettuce. And then, on a separate plate, comes some boiled greens — the taste is that of seri (water dropwort). These greens (seri), which have that distinctive wild-vegetable-like quality, go incredibly well with this fish broth. On top of that, the table's standard condiments are a different lineup, too. Usually it's sliced garlic pickled in vinegar, and chili oil loaded with red peppers. But here, there's pickled bamboo shoots put up in a jar. In other words, you can pile on as much as you like and eat all you want. It's just shredded bamboo shoots pickled in vinegar and chili peppers, but

【The bamboo shoot and chili mix is lightly placed on top of the noodles】 When you add this halfway through, The fresh, crisp scent of the thin bamboo shoots and the unique, slightly fermented texture in the chili vinegar make the soup reflect the summer sun, awakening you with a sharp, refreshing jolt. It's sour and has a bit of a bitter edge, but it's spicy, and even though you sweat, you can't stop eating. (I'm thinking of buying this separately someday) Even so, eating hot food when it's hot is common sense in Vietnam. But in Japan, Hiyashi Chuka, Zaru Soba, Reimen, and Somen are the summer staples, aren't they? When I was working in Japan, my appetite would invariably drop in the summer. Even so, I had to eat something. At those times, I usually boiled somen noodles. I'd try to force a sense of coolness using a large plate with two or three ice cubes floating in it. Myoga, green onions, ginger. Sometimes I'd mix in canned mackerel. Rather than eating vegetables, I feel like I was using the condiments to revive my body. As for Vietnam, despite the incredible heat before the rainy season, we eat hot noodles. (In other words, all year round) Sweating, chewing herbs, and drinking hot soup. As if, from within the body, you are restarting the body's organs once again. Today is over 36 degrees too. I'm extremely satisfied with the Bún Cá (fish noodles) I ate while sweating profusely. Leaving the shop and riding the motorbike. The sweat that was pouring out just a moment ago is being swept away by the breeze. This is it—eating hot food when it's hot. This is the kind of heat that the body learns in Ho Chi Minh City during summer. 【Shop Information Here】 BÚN CÁ SONG VỊ 52 Tân Cảng, Phло Thạnh Mỹ Tây, TP. HC *Noodle type can also be changed to Bún *Available until soup runs out *From 50,000 VND *Motorbike parking available Immigration Life Ranking