Eating Vietnamese

It has been said that the American craving for Asian food developed in full force after American GI's began returning from the Pacific Theater following World War II. Other sources seem to indicate that the American palate acquired a taste for such flavors during the days of the California Gold Rush and the construction of the Transcontinental Railroad where huge numbers of Chinese workers were employed. In either case, I have fallen victim to an almost addictive attachment the cuisine of Vietnam.

It all began innocently enough. One of my friends and classmates, an immigrant from Vietnam, asked me to accompany him to a little restaurant called, conveniently enough, the Saigon. They serve, as their specialty, sandwiches (a delicacy brought to them first from France during the colonial days) and enormous bowls of soup featuring rice or egg noodles, and a wonderful variety of meat. From the time of my first visit until now, I would say that on average, six out of ten meals that I eat away from the seminary are eaten at that little restaurant. Business is typically booming, and while it is not unusual for me to be the only person of European descent among the clientele, I know that they receive a good deal of business from other seminarians. I am never long in waiting for a table.

Recently, one of the waiters remarked that he remembered that I had ordered the same meal as the last time I was there. I expect that it will only be a matter of time until I am on a first name basis with the entire staff.

I comment on all of this simply because I ate there again today (this time with my friend who first introduced me to the place as well as two other seminarians), and I am continually impressed with the experience. As I take a break from paper-writing this evening, I am forced to take pause and wonder: What am I going to do when I return home? I can't think of a single place that serves Vietnamese soup and sandwiches in Western South Dakota.