New seafood noodle stall in Ho Chi Minh City’s Vung Tau resets coastal family legacy

On a warm weekend morning in early July, the small eatery — Hu tieu hai san No. 7 — on Xo Viet Nghe Tinh Street in coastal Vung Tau is packed.

Customers squeeze into every available seat, patiently waiting for their orders, the aroma of seafood broth hanging in the air.

Behind the counter, 60-year-old owner Bich Van moves quickly, welcoming guests, checking tables for tissues and condiments, and handling payments.

Her husband mans the stove, while their children and grandchildren help serve dishes.

Two assistants dart around refilling bowls and clearing trays.

The modest space is clean and bustling.

Prices are quite okay — just VND40,000 (US$1.5) for pork bone or squid noodles, and VND50,000 ($1.9) for a seafood mix.

A typical bowl features plump, peeled shrimp, slices of white squid, fish cakes, xa xiu (barbecued pork), wontons, and quail eggs — all floating in a light, clear broth reminiscent of the sea breeze and coastal flavors that draw weekend crowds to Vung Tau.

“It’s the freshness that keeps diners coming back,” Van said.

Her family once ran a seafood supply business serving hotels and restaurants across Vung Tau, which explains the quality of her ingredients.

Guests can ask for extra bean sprouts or garlic chives to pair with the standard lettuce and celery.

A house-made seafood dipping sauce, sold in VND30,000 ($1.1) jars, adds an extra punch and has become a local favorite.

From seafood dealer to soup stall

Before launching the noodle shop four years ago, Van’s family made a living as seafood traders.

But the COVID-19 pandemic hit hard, stalling supply chains and drying up business.

“During the lockdown, my younger brother suggested we try selling hu tieu and beef stew to make ends meet,” Van recalled.

“Eventually he left the business, and customers weren’t really into the stew, so we focused on what worked.”

The shop’s name — Hu tieu hai san No. 7 — refers to the address of their former home on Luong Van Can Street, which they had to sell during the pandemic.

They later revived the stall in their new home, keeping the name and spirit intact.

A small seafood counter still operates in the front.

In a city with long-standing competitors, the steady rise of Hu tieu hai san No. 7 stands out as a story of resilience — and the power of a yummy bowl of soup.