Our traditional Tet lunch experience

HANOI, VIETNAM – As slow travelers, John and I always try to connect with the local culture, so we were thrilled to be invited recently to join a family for their traditional Tet (Lunar New Year) family lunch in a rural village just outside of Hanoi.

We really did not know what to expect, besides lots of food, so we saved the entire day for the experience, and brought a box of chocolates for our host, Khai, the number two son in the family.

This rural village is surrounded by acres and acres of farmers’ fields, where they grow flowers of all kinds, rice, onions, cabbage, fruit and other edibles. The grandfather of the household has been a rice farmer all his life, carrying on the family business.

Going down a paved lane lined by the outer walls of residential compounds, we arrived at a big gate and entered a lovely tiled courtyard filled with pots of colorful flowering plants. Leaving our shoes outside, we stepped into a modern well-appointed three-story house. The first floor was composed of a sitting room, a modern kitchen, a “half-bath,” bedroom and a garage area, all very bright and spacious.

Nothing happens until tea is served

Invited into the sitting room, we were, of course, offered Vietnamese green tea and fruit. As far as I can tell, nothing happens anywhere around Hanoi until tea is served. I even think businesses must have tea available at all times for their clients.

We sat and chatted with our host (an English language instructor), admiring the lovely house and the artwork on the walls, and talked about how he became an English teacher and what we did before retirement.

After about 45 minutes or so of unhurried conversation, Khai suggested he take some photos of us against the flowers in the courtyard – both of us with him, Mel with him, then John with him. Lovely, smiling photos to mark our new friendship.

Khai then said he would like to take us to the traditional house for lunch. I started to put my shoes back on but was told it was not necessary, we were going through to the back of the house. At the back door we stepped into pairs of slip-on sandals and followed Khai about 20 steps through another courtyard to the traditional house, located behind the modern house where we had shared tea.

Wow! It was like walking into a museum. Many of Khai’s family members were sitting around trays of food on a mat on the floor, laughing and conversing over the meal. We were invited to sit on an intricately-carved wooden settee facing a matching knee-high table and two carved armchairs on the other side.

Thank goodness our host had provided us with comfortable seating. Neither one of us can manage sitting on the floor for very long.

We were soon served with a large tray of food, and then more food, and then some more until it was overflowing off the tray onto the table, which also held cans of beer, beer glasses, a jug of wine with large fine wine glasses, and a bowl for each of us, with elegant gold-trimmed lacquered chopsticks.

What a meal. There was rice, of course, along with fried nem rolls, boiled chicken, thin slices of roast pork and fried beef, tender bamboo shoot slabs cooked in a savory broth, slices of gio (a dense bologna-like loaf Khai referred to as Vietnamese “steak”), fresh tofu, bean sprouts, salad greens, a garlic and salt mix for seasoning individual bites, and a small bowl of light dipping sauce.

And of course, our meal also included bánh chưng, the traditional Tet “cake” made with sticky rice, mung beans, pork and other ingredients, tightly bound in banana leaves and then boiled for eight hours before serving.

By the way, that Tet “cake” and our curiosity about how it was made is what led to our entire Tet meal experience. But that’s a story for another time.

Faced with such a delicious bounty, it was hard to know where to start. But we didn’t have to wonder for long.

First things first… A toast!

Even before our first bite, the toasting began.

“Chúc Mừng Năm Mới! Happy New Year,” smiled Khai as he raised his glass of wine. We lifted our own glasses and clinked them together before taking a drink.

We had already learned that with a Vietnamese toast, you are supposed to drink all the alcohol in the glass. Khai had poured generous servings of beer in the tumblers, and wine in the goblets, more than either of us could finish in one drink. John made a valiant effort, I have to say. But really, none of us is in our 20s anymore. A sip or two each toast was going to have to be good enough.

And the toasts continued throughout the meal – beer, wine, more beer, more wine. Our glasses were never allowed to be empty. We are talking hours here!

The rest of the family sat in their circle and we sat on our chairs and everyone had the greatest time, eating and talking and laughing. And apparently grandfather loves cats, so we got to play with the resident kitties the entire time (when they were not eating bones from dinner).

Thoroughly stuffed, we eventually returned to the sitting room in the modern house, where Khai wanted to share one more toast before we left (well, a few more really), this time with some of his father’s rice wine.

Khai’s father, Tinh, has been making rice wine for quite a long time. As a rice farmer, he always has plenty of raw material to work with. Khai had earlier shown us a few of the stoneware jars his father uses for concocting and aging his brew, so we were curious how the finished product would taste.

I have to say it certainly was tasty. We drank a toast (or two) with small cups of 15-year-old wine. The clear liquid went down as smooth as silk and finished with a powerful kick. It was a delightful way to top off our wonderful day.

John and I couldn’t stop smiling during our bus ride home, as we savored the afterglow of our truly special experience.

This is why we love slow travel! Wouldn’t you love that too?