They love soup in this corner of the world. So do I.
Generally speaking there aren't any set meal times, no "lunch" or "dinner" as we know it, and restaurants and street vendors remain open from early morning to late night. There does, however, seem to be a conventional morning dish of noodle soup. Walking around from dawn to late morning you'll see people hunched over their bowls, haphazardly dashing condiments and aggressively slurping noodles.
I've tasted many variations, but the central theme is something like this: small mounds of various vegetables - Chinese watercress, scallions, leafy greens, mint and cilantro sprigs, wedged onions - are placed in a large bowl. A heap of blanched thin rice noodles goes in next, and then some simmering chicken stock is ladles over all. The whole mix is sprinkled with fried shallots, more cilantro and scallions, and a scoop of chunky peanut and chile sauce.
At table the preparation continues. Fish sauce, soy sauce, chile sauce, vinegar soaked chiles, lime juice, salt, sugar, bottles and jars and canisters and receptacles covering the table.
By the time the assembly is completed the flavors have had a chance to begin melding with one another. When you're halfway finished a bland bowl of chicken stock and vegetables has transformed itself into a fiery, salty, sweet, sour and utterly delicious way to start the day.
(Still hoping for photos!)
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