Authentic Vietnamese 'mom-cooked' dishes in Kenya.

I've traveled to over a hundred countries and tasted many local cuisines, only to realize that nothing tastes better than plain white rice from my hometown.

1. In November 2025, I will travel to three countries in East Africa – Tanzania, Madagascar, and Kenya – for nine days, alone, with more than 10 flights of varying lengths.

It was early summer in the Southern Hemisphere, so the red and purple jacaranda trees were blooming everywhere. In Tanzania, I visited Moshi at the foot of Mount Kilimanjaro, Africa's highest mountain, and admired the pristine white snow against the backdrop of the sunset.

I arrived in Antananarivo, the capital of Madagascar, where nearly 4 million people crammed into a narrow, traffic-congested, smog-filled urban area. The next day, I went to Morondava, a one-hour flight away, to sunbathe in the Indian Ocean.

Inside Mam Mam restaurant

PHOTO: NHT

Throughout the journey, instant noodles and instant porridge were my only foodies. I didn't dare try street food for fear of getting diarrhea. I told myself that when I got to Nairobi (Kenya), I would eat Vietnamese food to my heart's content.

2. Nairobi is Kenya's most populous city with nearly 6 million people. Traffic there is chaotic and gridlocked from 6 am to 9 pm. My hotel was on the 16th floor of HH Towers right in the city center, so the traffic was even worse.

After checking in, I took an Uber to Măm Măm restaurant in the Wetlands for dinner. It was past 8 PM, but the city was still congested. Looking at the bright red sign "Vietnamese Street Food - Măm Măm" against the dark sky, I felt a surge of pride and indescribable emotion.

Broken rice dish at Mam Mam restaurant

PHOTO: NHT

I went up to the second floor of the building, into the restaurant, and found it rather empty. The busiest area was probably the Black waitresses and the entire open kitchen with the tall, burly chefs busily and noisily preparing dishes. The waitress said I could choose any table, or the upstairs was also part of the restaurant. As I went up the stairs, the haphazardly arranged pictures of my hometown immediately caught my eye, evoking a second wave of emotion.

The third floor was completely full, so I went back to the second floor and chose a table in a secluded corner to avoid the noise and to better observe the surroundings. The waitress brought out the menu along with a bottle of water. The owner really put a lot of thought into the design. The food from my hometown was presented in gorgeous and incredibly appealing images. And they even included Vietnamese with and without diacritics, along with English.

Almost all dishes from the three regions of Vietnam can be found here. From spring rolls, banh mi, pho, vermicelli with grilled pork, vermicelli with grilled pork patties, vermicelli with roasted pork, to fried chicken with fish sauce, braised fish with rice, roasted pork with pickled mustard greens, fried rice with beef and pickled vegetables, grass jelly dessert, avocado jelly, flan, lemon tea, milk tea…

And especially the broken rice dish, which they labeled as "legendary" (Vietnamese legendary broken rice), looked absolutely delicious. I chose beef pho with coconut milk and agar jelly for dessert. Just as the waitress was about to turn away, I asked if the broken rice portion was big. She said everything here is huge.

After thinking for two seconds, I asked for another portion of broken rice. She widened her eyes, as if to say, "You're so small, yet you eat so much!" I immediately replied, "If we can't finish it, we'll take it home and eat the rest tomorrow."

I looked around. The shop was brightly colored, a riot of shades of green, red, purple, and yellow. It seemed the owner had brought a miniature version of Vietnam here. From ao dai (traditional Vietnamese dress), motorbike taxis, jesters, buffaloes, bread, temples, mountains, plains, and the sea... everything was arranged haphazardly, creating a visually appealing scene. Suddenly, I heard some Vietnamese voices. Glancing to the corner of the shop, I saw a girl laughing and talking to another Vietnamese man in the kitchen.

Grilled pork vermicelli at Happy Tempo restaurant

PHOTO: NHT

The bowl of pho wasn't very appealing because the broth was quite cloudy. On top were a few slices of beef, scallions and cilantro, two cinnamon leaves, a small bowl of lime and chili, along with small bowls of chili sauce and black bean sauce. The waitress kindly instructed that before eating, you should add both sauces and mix them together, and remember to dip the beef in the sauce.

I nodded in thanks, but inwardly thought, who in their right mind would teach a Vietnamese person how to eat pho? As usual, before eating any soup dish, I always sip a little of the broth to check its taste before adding any more seasoning.

The aroma of Northern-style pho is subtly tinged with star anise and cinnamon, lingering on the nose before gently touching the tip of the tongue, creating a delightful sensation. Mixing the pho reveals fresh bean sprouts underneath. The beef is braised until incredibly tender, melting in your mouth before you even chew. The noodles themselves are slightly firm, but they taste far better than those used in pad thai restaurants abroad.

After wandering around for several days, eating African dishes with white rice, fried rice, yellow rice—everything imaginable—the sight of the plate of broken rice that had just been brought out, with its familiar aroma, made my hands and feet tremble.

I've traveled to over a hundred countries and tasted many local cuisines , only to realize that nothing tastes better than plain white rice from my homeland. Just a plate of rice with fish sauce and chili peppers is enough to make me feel the warmth of my country.

Aside from the slightly dry pork patty, everything else was delicious. The fatty ribs were perfectly seasoned and infused with a hint of fresh lemongrass. The fried egg was lightly browned on both sides. The fish sauce had a perfect balance of salty, sweet, spicy, and pungent flavors. Spooning the sauce over the rice and slowly savoring the rich, tender ribs felt like being somewhere in bustling Saigon instead of distant Africa.

The customers outside had gotten up and left. I asked the waitress if I still had any of my dessert left, and if the shop closed, I would take it home. She said it was fine, and that I should feel free to eat it, as they still had to clean up. A plate of grass jelly with coconut milk and a few ice cubes was brought out. Although it was a little sweet, it was creamy and had a faint, fragrant banana oil aroma that brought back fond memories.

3. The next day, as planned, I called an Uber to go to Happy Tempo restaurant for lunch, then take a safari tour to see the wildlife. It took 15 minutes to get to the high-rise building with three armed security guards. They directed me to the lobby and then up to the 11th floor. Upon arrival, I couldn't find Happy Tempo anywhere except for the Thai restaurant in front of me. I thought I'd gone to the wrong place and was about to go back down to the lobby to ask the security guards when a Black man came out, opened the door, and invited me into the Thai restaurant.

Beef pho at Mam Mam restaurant

PHOTO: NHT

Looking at the lush green artificial bamboo decorations all over the restaurant, I felt a touch of Vietnam. The restaurant was huge, yet there were only three of us. The waiter directed me to a large table near the window and handed me the menu. The restaurant served both Vietnamese and Thai food. They had spring rolls, fresh rolls, shrimp skewers, squid salad, and shrimp salad as an appetizer.

The main courses included stir-fried beef with satay sauce, stir-fried chicken with ginger, stir-fried chicken with satay sauce, grilled pork vermicelli, stir-fried squid, and grilled ribs served with rice and beef pho. Looking at the menu, there wasn't a hint of restaurant quality; it felt just like a home-cooked meal. I switched to the grilled pork vermicelli.

More than 10 minutes later, the Black waiter brought out a huge bowl of grilled pork vermicelli with a small bowl of red chili peppers – just looking at it was tempting. I poured in the fish sauce, added more chili, mixed it well, and took a big bite. The crispy outer layer of the rice paper combined with the filling of the spring roll, along with the meat, vermicelli, green vegetables, and the fragrant, nutty peanuts, made my nose tingle with spiciness.

I don't know if it was the chili peppers or the overwhelming emotion I felt. Because in this remote part of Africa, nearly 15 hours' flight from Vietnam, I could still enjoy the taste of home, just like "Mom's cooking" as described on the restaurant menu.

Source: https://thanhnien.vn/dam-da-mon-viet-me-nau-o-kenya-185260130203723614.htm