24 Hours in Hanoi: Vegan Food & Chaos

Somewhere between the airport and my hotel, I watched two speeding motorbikes become intimately acquainted in a way motorbikes never should.

Then, a few minutes later, I watched the same thing happen again.

I was also fairly sure my driver was scamming me, which, in the grand scheme of things, felt like the least of my worries. In the end, he didn’t. He was lovely. 

As I looked out of the window onto all this chaos, I said a small prayer to whoever it is that looks after tourists, and thought: welcome to Hanoi.

Vietnam’s capital is mad at the best of times. I had just so happened to pick a day that was not the best of times. It was October 10th, Capital Liberation Day, a public holiday, and I had absolutely no idea.

Bangkok Was Just the Opening Act

Living in Thailand, I’m pretty used to Bangkok. It’s city that can feel like a lot when you first meet it, but now looks pretty tame in retrospect. I’d arrived in Vietnam feeling quietly smug about my chaos tolerance.

But crossing the road in Hanoi is an act of faith. You step off the curb, walk at a steady pace, and trust that the river of scooters will part around you. Somehow, it does. Every time I made it to the other side, it felt like a small win.

Yet I fell for the place almost immediately. Young guys said hello as I walked past, women smiled, and there was a warmth to it all that felt properly genuine. You don’t always get in Thailand. The manager at my hotel mentioned there’d be fireworks and celebrations that night, and instead of feeling like I’d stumbled into someone else’s party, I felt invited.

So I cracked open a Beer Hanoi and went looking for dinner, stopping first at Standing Bar, a brewery by the lake. I found a spot, took a sip of a nice IPA, and just watched. Families out together. Couples wrapped up in each other. Streets buzzing like the whole city had exhaled at once.

The only flaw in the picture was me. I had nobody to celebrate with. Just a cold beer and a city having the time of its life.

Still, it was lovely. Slightly lonely, mostly magic. I finished my drink, feeling relaxed and optimistic, and set off to find the best vegan meal of my life.

That optimism did not last.

The Great Dinner Hunt

I should explain that I’m a serious planner. I’d spent months scouting Hanoi’s vegan restaurants on Google, and I had the whole trip mapped out. At the top of my list was Chay Via He, a spot I was desperate to try for some proper, authentic Vietnamese food.

I turned the corner onto the street where the restaurant was located, but was met with a gaggle of about 30 locals waiting outside.

This wasn’t a queue. It was an auction. People darted in and out, snatching tables the second they appeared, and ordering from the sidewalk by scribbling on little bits of paper, in Vietnamese. As a Brit who treats an orderly queue as a core human right, I found it genuinely traumatizing. And my lack of Vietnamese suddenly felt enormous. In Thailand, I can speak enough to get by. In Hanoi, I could only say hello and stand there looking lost.

The peaceful evening I’d pictured was already off to a bad start. I circled the block, then circled it again, hoping the crowd would thin. It only grew.

Here’s the silver lining: a horde of locals fighting over tables is usually a sign you’ve picked a great restaurant. Small comfort on an empty stomach, but I’ll take it. I raised my white flag and set off on another adventure.

That’s when the real torture began.

Vietnamese people love to eat, and it shows. Every restaurant I walked past was packed, with people slurping down bowls of noodles and crunching into banh mi. As a vegan in Asia, I’m no stranger to window shopping for food I can’t eat, but the energy was contagious. I couldn’t help grinning, even as my stomach filed a formal complaint.

I kept hoping I’d stumble onto another vegan spot. I didn’t, so Google came to the rescue. There were plenty of fancy restaurants, but I’d come for something more authentic. Eventually I found a vegan buffet, Nha Hang Chay Buffet, and walked 15 minutes through the chaos to reach it.

It was packed. I actually pushed my way inside, full of hope, and found only scraps. Just the sad remains of what must have been a magnificent spread.

More restaurants came and went. One even had the opposite problem (I can’t remember its name). It looked great, but it was so empty and tucked away, with so little atmosphere, that it felt like it was hiding from its own customers. Not what I wanted either. A few more were absolutely heaving, which was wonderful to see and no use whatsoever, because I couldn’t get a seat in any of them.

I blame the festival.

By this point I was disappointed, tired, frustrated, and very, very hungry. I opened Grab and headed home, defeated.

Fortunately, I’ve had better luck exploring Hanoi’s vegan food scene on other visits! If you’re planning your own trip, check out my guide to the best vegan restaurants in Hanoi, including some fantastic spots you won’t want to miss.

On a normal day, or with a little more time, I would have eaten like a king. 

Grab Always Has Your Back

Back in my hotel room, hungry and a little bruised, I opened the Grab app expecting very little.

It was awash with options. Some pricey, some dirt cheap, and a spread from Indian to Western to Vietnamese that I never saw coming. I scrolled for a while with the expression of a man who has just discovered the world’s best-kept secret, then I ordered four banh mi. Four different flavors. Less than ten bucks.

They arrived quickly, still warm. I handed over hundreds of thousands of dong, a sum that sounds like a lottery win but only buys you four sandwiches. Then, I settled on a plastic table by the window, one eye on Netflix, the other watching Hanoi carry on without me.

I’m not advising you to do this. But I am telling you that Grab has your back as a vegan in Hanoi, all through the night. Some restaurants shut at midnight, some later, and the city simply refuses to sleep.

And those four banh mi? Arguably some of the best sandwiches I’ve ever eaten. Despite the circumstances. Possibly because of them.

You’d think that would be enough bread for one trip.

It was not. The next morning I was short on time and wanted to keep things simple, so I ordered one banh mi on Grab. Just one this time. Then I picked up a black Vietnamese coffee from a traditional coffee shop next to the park next to the lake, and sat down to watch the world go by.

Old women dancing. Old men playing keep ups with a shuttlecock. People walking their tiny dogs, every one of them some kind of miniature labradoodle.

It wasn’t how I’d pictured my Vietnam trip going. But it was special all the same, partly thanks to Grab, and massively thanks to vegan banh mi.

Eating Hanoi Style: Fast and Furious

If you’re coming from somewhere slower, like Thailand or the West, it helps to make peace with Hanoi’s dining culture before you land. It rattled me a bit.

It’s communal. You’ll squeeze onto a tight table with strangers, elbows in, yet nobody seems to mind. People are rarely eating alone.

It’s also fast. The food is fragrant, fresh, healthy, and incredibly delicious. Bright herbs, zingy flavors, hot noodles, crunchy bread, the kind of thing you can smell from half a block away and then think about for the rest of the month. But it isn’t something you savor for two hours over a glass of wine. People here are busy and direct. You sit, you order, you eat, you go.

In fancier restaurants, you might get the leisurely pace you’re used to. But if you want the authentic experience, expect fast and furious madness. Which, honestly, is just a mirror of the city itself, and the country around it.

Would I Go Back? In a Heartbeat

It wasn’t the perfect trip. But I loved it anyway, and I’ll look back on it with a stupid grin: a little under 24 hours in Hanoi, five banh mi, a similar number of beers, one black coffee, and a kind of beautiful madness you can’t fake.

Because make no mistake, Hanoi is beautiful. Properly, ridiculously beautiful. Full to the brim with culture. And even through the chaos, the hunger, and the crowds, I could see it. I know I’ve only scratched the surface.

I’ll be back with more time. 

Heading to Hanoi? Learn from my mistakes:

• Check the calendar for public holidays before you go. Trust me on this one.
• Learn a few words of Vietnamese. Pointing and smiling only gets you so far at an auction.
• Download Grab the moment you land. It will save you, for food and transport.
• Expect shared tables, quick meals, and a lot of noise. Embrace it.