Saigon - a night in the memory
The evening was Saigon hot and the humidity, although bearable, was just enough to pop-out the sweat. The restaurant, on a darken side street, was croded and cloudy with BBQ smoke from legions of charcoal pots being used at the tables of families, tourists, locals and lovers cooking their meat selection....be it beef, pork, shrim, goat ... or even field rat, but the smell was sensational and alluring. There was no pretense of style or decor, this place was about eating and the menu reflected page upon page of every consumable one, or at least I, could think of to eat, and more. We passed on the roasted goat, pork, and of course the roasted chicken and ..., but we did go with a quarter of a young pig ... roasted over hot coals at the front wall of the eatery. There along the sidewall walk, young sweating men worked at the art of roasting the pink porkers and turning the days old piglets into a taste treat beyond caring about the death of such a young animal. The eatery was not more