The Unknown Story of Saigon

Every restaurant in El-Gouna has its own atmosphere, its clientele and a secret recipe for food, while creating and preserving a reputation among residents and tourists. An ambassador of Vietnamese cuisine, located in Abu Tig Marina, Saigon has been contributing to El-Gouna’s food diversity since 2008.

This article I write, however, is not about the beautiful design of its premises or about the dishes it has to offer. It is about the person behind the restaurant and the team that makes it all happen.

The woman behind the business is Le Thi Hoang Yen and the first thing that I notice about her, is the warm smile. She starts the conversation by mentioning the 5 children she has with her German husband, all born and raised in Egypt. Her story goes back 18 years ago when she came to El Gouna, pregnant with her first child.  Her husband had been offered a job at the now defunct brewery. Ms Yen began organising cooking lessons and charity events with other members of the community.  Her food rapidly gained appreciation and soon she was teaching her friends the art of Vietnamese cuisine. 

"The family bond is strong in Vietnam, as it is in Egypt” she says, adding that Gouna is the only place she can call home. “I had my children here, I came with my husband when there where very few restaurants or things to do”.

Ms Yen's father passed away when she was three months old. Her Chinese-Vietnamese stepfather passed away when she was 12 years old. She loved his food, just as much as she loves her mother's cooking. The only difference being that her stepfather's ingredients remained unknown to her, so she used her imagination to recreate the taste of his cooking. Ms Yen's mother is her greatest supporter, she says, along with her husband.  Even though her mother did not agree with her taking over the responsibility of a restaurant, in addition to raising children, she has never left her side. 

A surprise for me was to find out that Ms Yen and her mother both work in the Saigon restaurant kitchen. This is to compensate for the lack of a suitable Vietnamese chef, who can do a job that she would be proud of. Another surprise is that Ms. Yen and her family grow, in their private garden, plants that are unavailable on the local market, such as Vietnamese mint and basil. Oh….and there is one other thing: two of her children were doing a cashier job after school in the recently closed Mini Saigon delivery and takeaway restaurant downtown. 

Cooking has always been important to her, even though at the beginning of her marriage she could only make one or two Vietnamese meals. But her husband was always encouraging and never complaining, so she wanted to do more. This led to organising the cooking classes, charity events and eventually to the birth of Saigon. She now often goes to Vietnam to gather more recipes and to find inspiration, but never comes back empty handed: the spices basket has to always be refilled. Mastering the taste of food and the technique of the fire, are the two arts that she has also acquired in Vietnam. And even though it sounds easy, I conclude that it is not. 

Miss Yen goes on to explain why Vietnamese cooking is not easy: “The peanuts, you know, we don’t buy them peeled. We do the peeling here, because the taste is just not the same. The fish sauce as well, needs to be prepared from fresh ingredients not long in advance, the onions are done in a special way, so that they remain crispy. We make our own tofu and the ducks…oh the ducks… we pull all the feathers ourselves to insure there is nothing left on the skin”. I ask her if she heard of the “slow food” movement. But she hasn’t, even though she is setting a good example of it.

She smiles again and I ask why. The answer comes fast and in an honest manner: “I used to be a picky customer myself, when I would go to other restaurants. I would return the plate if there was something I didn’t like.”

This being said, I shift the conversation to numbers. So she mentions: “5,18,16,12,9 are the ages of my children”. But I am curious about the other numbers, the ones that keep a restaurant going. I find out that Mini Saigon was not profitable, so she had to shut it down. The Abu Tig one, where I am interviewing her, is doing ok, but sometimes struggles. “Why so?” I ask. Miss Yen has the answer to my question: 'the Vietnamese type of food can not be eaten on a daily basis, there are rarely new faces in the restaurant apart from holidays or special events, the occupancy of Gouna is not so high. In addition,  Saigon cannot cook at a fast enough pace when it gets crowded.

Her loyal customers were a bit taken by surprise by the 50% increase of prices, on the 1st of January 2017. The reason for that, I am told, is her supplier increased prices for all imported products (mushrooms, noodles and so on), and transportation costs are higher as well.

All these are things to worry about, but Ms. Yen also worries about the education and bringing up of her children. She feels that they should stay in El Gouna, but considers moving to Germany where education is covered by government. If she decides to keep the family in Gouna, her family will need to look into starting another business as well. I understand her concern and I would feel the same. But I hope she stays and I am able to enjoy Vietnamese food every time I come to Gouna. I guess I am a bit selfish when it comes to food.

article contributed by Valentina C.