The best meals in Hoi An are not on the river. They’re in alleys, in family kitchens, and at a plastic stool near the market.
Hoi An is a tiny UNESCO town that happens to be one of the best eating cities in Vietnam, and almost all of its greatest dishes cost less than a coffee at home. The catch is that the prettiest restaurants, the ones lining the river with lanterns and English menus, are rarely the best ones.
So here’s what I’d actually eat, in the order I’d eat it, with the timing that matters. Rent a bicycle (your hotel almost certainly lends them free) and give yourself permission to ride ten minutes east of the Ancient Town, where the good stuff hides.
The counter at Bánh Mì Phượng.
Order the thập cẩm, not the chicken.
The three dishes Hoi An is famous for
Cao lầu. The town’s signature bowl: chewy yellow noodles, slices of xá xíu pork, herbs and a little crackling, with barely any broth. Legend says the noodles only work with water from the Ba Le well. At Cao Lầu Không Gian Xanh the portions were the most generous I found and the pork the fattiest, which is exactly what you want. Morning Glory does a refined version in air conditioning, which I was grateful for on a very hot afternoon.
Bánh mì. Bánh Mì Phượng kept pulling me back. I half expected a tourist trap and it simply isn’t: the bread is light and shattering, the pâté rich. Order the thập cẩm, the mixed one, not the chicken. Madam Khánh, the Bánh Mì Queen, is the other great one, and her sauce is the reason.
Cơm gà. Shredded chicken over turmeric rice with papaya, coriander and mint. Long Cơm Gà serves what I think is the definitive version, and if you’re brave, the offal and congealed blood on the side are the local way to eat it.
The quieter plates I’d cross town for
White rose dumplings. Translucent little shrimp dumplings topped with crispy shallots. One family is said to supply the whole town, sending them out by motorbike in wooden baskets, so you may as well eat them where they’re made rather than pay a riverside markup.
Mì quảng. Wide rice noodles with just a splash of broth, peanuts and a rice cracker to crumble over. At Mr. Hải’s I had it with quail eggs and pork, and it was wonderful.
Hến trộn. Minced baby clams tossed with herbs and crackers, mostly a Cẩm Nam island thing. The version I ate at a stall in the night market on An Hội rivaled any I’ve had.
Bánh đập. Layers of rice paper you smash with your hand before eating. Pure texture, pure fun.
And the best meal of my whole stay came from a bánh canh vendor near the central market whose stall I could never find again. That’s Hoi An. Eat the thing in front of you.
The one most people miss
Timing. It’s the whole game here and nobody tells you. The best local kitchens cook what they have and close when it’s gone, often by ten in the morning. The riverside places that stay open all evening are the ones you should skip.
So eat your great meal early, wander the Ancient Town in the afternoon when the lanterns are being strung, and come back to the night market after dark for a bowl of something at a plastic stool by the water. One more thing worth knowing: beef is scarce in Hoi An. Even the phở leans chicken.
How I would eat it
Cao lau for lunch where the portions are generous, bánh mì standing up, and one dinner somewhere with a tablecloth. Ride ten minutes east of the Ancient Town at least once – that is where the good stuff hides.
When I plan Hoi An for clients I send a guide out with them on the first evening to do the eating properly – the stalls with no signs, the family kitchens, the places that close when the pot is empty. After that you will know how to feed yourselves beautifully for the rest of the week. I also hold the tables worth booking before anyone lands, because the good small rooms fill.
My agency, Coco Tran Travel, would love to arrange it.
Inquire about a private Hoi An food evening
Pair it with The Rolodex: Hoi An and The Roundup: Hoi An Ancient Town.
The river after dark, when the night market opens.