Chương Đặng: Warm-Tasting Dishes

People often describe Chương Đặng as an entrepreneur, a fashion designer, a culinary expert. Yet perhaps the simplest way to imagine him is as a wanderer moving through life. There is a gentleness, an ease, and an open-hearted freedom about him—qualities of someone who knows how to savor every beauty that life offers.

Every Place Is an Inheritance

We arranged to share a meal at Nhà Anh, his restaurant tucked away in a small alley in District 3, Ho Chi Minh City. The entrance to the alley feels charming, lined with pretty houses draped in greenery. The restaurant’s sign appears modestly on a dark brown wooden wall. Gently pushing open a small glass door, one is led up a staircase to the first floor of an old apartment block, now renovated into an ideal gathering place for city dwellers.

Stepping inside, the first thing that caught my attention was a row of small glass panels running along the right-hand wall, sketched with the outlines of a man and a woman standing side by side. Looking past their shoulders, one’s gaze meets the lush green canopy outside the alley. The ceiling, too, is delightfully whimsical, with ocean-toned patterns hand-painted on clear glass panels.

Until now, every space Chương Đặng inhabits—from his home to his business ventures—has been designed by his own hand, from concept to construction. He is drawn to new places that carry a sense of continuity from the old. In this restaurant, for example, a few decorative objects such as an aluminum flower vase or a wall-mounted lamp were kept from his previous café. He also often asks neighbors for items they no longer use.

By the time we arrived, he had already set up a lovely little table by the window, which he said had beautiful light—perfect for… cooking better food. Improvisation is his forte, so anywhere—indoors or outdoors—can become a poetic kitchen, as long as there is a cutting board, a knife, ingredients, and a few basic tools. His hands move quickly and decisively as he prepares ingredients, yet always with an unhurried calm. We spent a gentle afternoon together, cooking and enjoying the meal.

Food as a Practice of Living

For Chương Đặng, food is a means of practicing life itself. He has lived many lives across different cultures, and depending on the moment and his needs, those cultures guide him toward the appropriate food or drink. For instance, when he receives a message from a stranger, he will brew a cup of tea, slowly read the message, fully understand it, and only then reply. Or when he needs comfort, he will cook himself a bowl of phở.

He usually cooks only what he likes—lightly seasoned, simply prepared dishes. But when cooking for someone else, he does not cook according to his own preferences; instead, he cooks what he believes the other person will enjoy. The dishes he prepared for us that day were as spontaneous as ever. In his view, curry is an easy dish to make well, especially Vietnamese curry made with coconut milk—a wonderfully rich fat that is also affordable. Green mango salad suits the summer season. Mixed rice is a playful dish, even by name alone.

Chương’s food is always visually pleasing, balanced in color. The presentation feels both meticulous and restrained. He combines ingredients instinctively, yet the results are unexpectedly harmonious. It must be said: this was the first time I had tasted dishes that carried warmth as a flavor. A flavor, not merely a sensation. Though each dish differed in ingredients, structure, and method, they all shared this same note, like a thread connecting every table. It was a subtle harmony of sour, spicy, salty, and sweet, warming the entire mouth upon tasting, then spreading into a feeling of comfort within.

I remember reading one of his books and reaching the passage where he described a cup of hot egg chocolate and explained how to make it. Without knowing why, I closed the book, stood up, and went straight to the kitchen to make myself a warm cup. His philosophy of cooking mirrors his philosophy of life: food should look inviting, and once eaten, it should convey care and warmth.

He shared that many of his relationships have been built around meals. Like the story of that hot chocolate—he recalls a friend he deeply cherishes. He made her a cup of chocolate on the day they parted. Years later, when she had a child, she told her husband that they must bring the baby to meet him. When he met the child, he felt an immediate closeness, as the little girl seemed like a miniature version of her mother. His memories of people are often linked by food in this way.

Ambarella Salad

Ingredients: Young green ambarella fruit, onion, cucumber, assorted herbs, peanuts, sesame seeds, fried shallots, tamarind, chili sauce, vegetarian fish sauce. A selection of mushrooms.

Procedure:
– Salad dressing: Simmer tamarind juice, sugar, chili sauce, and vegetarian fish sauce until well combined. Let cool.
– Slice the ambarella fruit into small segments, like betel nut wedges, and toss with sugar. Thinly slice the onion and soak in ice water. – Seed and julienne the cucumber, also soaking in ice water. Shred napa cabbage. Combine everything with herbs, drizzle with dressing, and top with peanuts, sesame seeds, and fried shallots.

Vegetable Curry

Ingredients: Eggplant, sweet potato, spirulina, mushrooms, curry leaves, curry powder, lemongrass stalks, garlic, chili powder, coconut milk.

Procedure:
– Prepare the curry sauce: Sauté onion with chili powder, minced garlic, lemongrass, and curry leaves until fragrant. Add coconut milk, season with curry powder and curry paste.
– Stir-fry diced onion with eggplant, sweet potato, chopped spirulina, and cubed mushrooms. Season to taste, add a little water, and simmer until tender.
– Pour the prepared curry sauce into the vegetables, adjust seasoning, and simmer gently until everything softens and melds together.

Mixed Rice

Ingredients: One bowl of brown rice, pecans, fried garlic, young zucchini, king oyster mushrooms, glass noodles, silken tofu, wood ear mushrooms, scallions.

Procedure:
– Blanch the king oyster mushrooms in boiling water, then hollow out the centers. Stuff with finely chopped mushrooms, glass noodles, scallions, mashed tofu, black pepper, and wood ear mushrooms. Lightly fry, then braise with fresh coconut water.
– Halve the zucchini, marinate with salt, pepper, and oil, then pan-sear until lightly charred and fragrant.
– Toss the rice in a pan with garlic oil, pepper, salt, pecans, and fried garlic.
– Serve the rice on a plate, topped with zucchini and stuffed mushrooms.

A Serious Wanderer

I have never spoken with anyone with whom it felt so easy to delve into personal stories as with Chương Đặng. We sat at a small table in the corner of Nhà Anh. As soon as we settled in, he began speaking about his decision to return to Vietnam to live and work, having realized—only after going far away—how precious the positive, optimistic energy of Vietnamese people truly is. From there, the stories unfolded gently: how he went through a long stretch of emotional numbness after his mother passed away, how he emerged from the final stage of an existential crisis, and gradually changed his way of seeing the world—inside and out, before and after turning forty.

He said he was a child deeply attached to his mother, once believing that if she were gone, he would not survive. Remembering his childhood, on cold, rainy days his mother would save a bit of scorched rice from the bottom of the pot, shape it into small rice balls for her lazy, whiny child. He loved her broad, solid back; even at six years old, already tall for his age, he still liked to drape himself over her back and wrap his arms around her neck. Then one day she truly left him, and he continued living. But that farewell made him aware of life’s finiteness.

In the past, he felt sadness and longing whenever he had to part from someone—lovers, employees, even street vendors he met along the way. Now it is different: “When you realize you have a finite number of days to live, you learn to optimize your time. If something doesn’t bring the results you hope for, you end it early and go enjoy yourself, have coffee—I don’t want my time to be wasted. It’s the same with relationships. I used to grieve deeply when parting from people, but once you understand that everything is finite, farewells become gentler.”

Chương Đặng describes himself as someone who lives with constant imagination, independent of circumstances: “Without imagination, people become dependent on conditions. They think, if I have the means, then I’ll dream; if not, then I won’t. For me, it was precisely imagination that helped me escape during my most difficult times.”

I clearly sense the seriousness with which Chương approaches everything he does. Whatever he commits to, he gives it his all. He once said that each moment is unique; tomorrow never repeats today. After long conversations with him, I realized something else: thoughts and emotions may change with each phase of life, but one’s essence remains. Dreamers will always be dreamers. And it is that dreaming quality that keeps people together, sharing life side by side.

Originally published in Đẹp Magazine, Issue No. 298
Words and images: Nhà Có Hai Người
Styling: Võ Đoan Trang