Real food made really fine
Talented Vietnamese Chef Peter Cuong Franklin is a pioneer in modern Vietnamese cuisine, and his Michelin-starred Ho Chi Minh restaurant has elevated Vietnamese cuisine to the global stage, writes Jennifer Johnston
Good morning, Saigon
I was on my first cruise: Azamara Quest’s 17-day Springtime in Asia Voyage. It was early morning on day 15, our ship slowly meandering up the Saigon River, eventually docking at Ho Chi Minh City. We have two nights in Vietnam’s most populated city. Aboard, one of our small media contingent, Argot, mentions she’s dining at Anan Saigon that evening. She excitedly explains Anan is the city’s only one-Michelin-starred restaurant (awarded by the Michelin Guide 2023). The restaurant was included in Asia’s 50 Best Restaurants in 2021 and 2023. It was also voted the Best Restaurant in Vietnam in 2023. Anan sounded special, so we asked if we could join her. We held our breath, hoping she could expand her two-person booking to five — Anan Saigon has a waiting list a mile long. Argot worked her magic and we were in.
Try to find Anan
Chef Peter Cuong Franklin opened Anan Saigon in 2017. Anan (meaning “eat, eat”) is located in District 1 on a narrow lane in the middle of one of Ho Chi Minh’s busiest wet markets, Cho Cu. At the cruise terminal, we hail a taxi which drops us at a street corner. The pavement is uneven, rubbish is everywhere. A ginger cat scampers from beneath one of the precarious-looking leanto stalls in the street’s centre. Just as we are wondering where this Michelin-star restaurant is, Andrea calls out, “I see it.” She’s clocked the glowing yellow neon letter “A” on the side of a tall skinny building. We enter the restaurant, leaving the messy chaos of Ton That Dam St behind.
Chef Peter’s dream
Peter was born and raised in Dalat in central Vietnam. Towards the end of the Vietnam War, in 1975, Peter immigrated to the US as a teenage refugee, aged 12. Adopted by a family in Connecticut, he later studied at an Ivy League university, graduating and working as an investment banker. But he ditched the corporate banking world. “I wanted to follow my love and passion for food,” he explains. He studied French cooking at Le Cordon Bleu culinary school in Paris. After working in overseas restaurants and running two in Hong Kong, Peter returned to Vietnam in 2017.
His early childhood memories were of being surrounded by food. “My mother operated a small noodle shop in the living room of our house,” he explains. “She was one of the best cooks in the village.” Peter’s creations come from being inspired by his mother and Vietnam’s vibrant street food culture, also adding French culinary techniques from his Le Cordon Bleu training. “Anan is a modern Vietnamese restaurant, but at the same time it’s grounded in history and tradition,” says Peter. “People often ask why I chose to open Anan in a local market instead of a five-star hotel. The wet market is a source of beautiful fresh local ingredients, but also an inspiration for the food at Anan,” he explains. “As the cuisine and society modernise, we must not lose sight of our traditional culture. The Cho Cu market’s deep historical roots remind me and my team to make real food people like to eat, stay grounded in real life and most importantly don’t forget our roots.”
In November 2023, Peter also opened Pot Au Pho on the 3rd floor above Anan. This heralded
a decade-long quest to elevate pho, Vietnam’s national dish, to new heights. It’s also a tribute to his mother’s traditional noodle shop in Dalat.
An expensive meal in Ho Chi Minh City
Here we are in the heart of Saigon on the sixth-floor open rooftop of Anan Saigon. It’s a balmy evening, unlike the stiflingly hot conditions earlier in the day. An occasional gentle breeze drifts past. We’re surrounded by high-rise buildings, but as is Vietnam’s way, it’s not all new. On one side we overlook a derelict building, where a seedling must have blown into a crack in the exterior some years ago, because a vine has taken root and green branches are now sprouting on the side. Our group selects the 10-course Chef Tasting Menu. Smiling waiters quietly place plates in front of us. Anan focuses on modern presentation and every dish is a piece of art. The flavours, incredible. Chef Peter visits our table. He shows us how to consume the bun cha Bourdain (dish number five). “This is our ‘one bite, one drink’ version of the famous spring roll,” he explains. Peter carefully picks up the roll on Argot’s plate and expertly wraps it in a purple rubi pak choi leaf. “You eat it in one go, and as you chew, all the textured flavours are released,” he explains. Argot leans over, mouth open and the small roll disappears. As Argot chews, Peter asks if she can taste the garlic, pork, pickle and the herbs. Argot nods, “Mmmmm,” she says, still chewing.
We split the bill five ways, each paying 2,177,175 dong. Inside the lift taking us downstairs, we’re all laughing at splashing out a couple of million dong for dinner (actual cost NZ$150). While it was the most expensive meal we ate in Saigon, as a Michelin-starred restaurant, this was actually “cheap”. As we make our way back to the Azamara Quest, our hotel on the water, my cruise buddy Catherine perfectly sums up our dining experience. “That was a sublime mix of East meets West,” she says. “Every course brought a new level of anticipation. An unexpected find.”
Indeed.