A self-taught Vietnamese chef is slowly becoming a Thanekar, but eager to convert Mumbaikars into fans of pho and banh
Chef Capthy Ly and her husband Manish Malhotra run a supper club in Hiranandani Estate in Thane. Pic/Sameer Markande; Ly makes the noodles for the Pho; Guests at the supper club
Five years on, Capthi Ly’s pet peeve is, “They say they eat non-veg, but say yes to only chicken and seafood”.
ADVERTISEMENT
Ly runs The Studio, a Vietnamese supper club out of her cosy apartment in Hiranandani Estate, Thane. The space is the size of a studio with a tiny kitchen that has only one three-burner stove and a sink. Here, she cooks traditional recipes that she grew up cooking and eating in Nam Cát Tiên. When we met Ly, she has a pot of chicken broth bubbling on the stove for the pho, Vietnam’s traditional and popular noodle soup.
It’s evident that Ly is shy and prefers to stay busy cooking away banh xeo, a savoury pancake, on the side instead of answering questions. Her quick movements prove that she’s in her natural element. After all, she began cooking at the age of seven. “My parents were farmers and did not have much money”, she explains, telling us how she would cook, clean, take care of her siblings (two sisters and a brother), and work on the family’s farm. She adds, “In Vietnamese culture, the eldest daughter has the most responsibilities. The men are usually more laid back.”
Chicken pho
While working hard to help her parents was Ly’s reality, it’s also true that more Vietnamese women are part of the labour force when compared to the global average. A research by the International Labour Organisation on Gender and the Labour Market in Vietnam reveals that in 2019, 70.9 per cent of Vietnam’s working-age women were in the labour force. The corresponding rate at a global level stood at 47.2 per cent.
It’s this working class culture that led Ly to study and eventually move to the capital of Ho Chi Minh City to find work. By the age of 27, she had her own pharma business for which she would travel to India to buy generic medicines. It’s here that she met Manish Malhotra, her husband. “From where I come, parents don’t decide who you will marry,” she says, without revealing too much about the backstory of their romance. The couple began dating soon after they met. By December 2018, Ly had decided to move to Mumbai with Malhotra and the pair married in 2019. The couple has a three-year-old son who is growing up as half-Punjabi and half-Vietnamese.
The move to Mumbai meant that Ly would shut down her business. But before she decided to build her life in a new country, she also managed to improve her parents’ condition back. Hailing from the countryside, Ly grew up in Nam Cát Tiên which is popular as a tourist spot owing to the Cát Tiên National Park, a mere three-hour drive away from Ho Chi Minh City. Ly’s family now runs Cat Tien Backpacker Hostel complete with a cafe that she helped them set up. It is here that Ly garnered the experience of cooking and gained the practice she needed to perfect her recipes.
Eager to establish something yet again–except this time in Mumbai–Ly first set up a cloud kitchen, Vietnam Express.. She began serving traditional snacks including pho, banh xeo, banh mi, and Vietnamese iced coffee. But despite a 4.7 organic rating on Zomato, a cloud kitchen in Thane meant the delivery radius was limited. “She had customers in all the best societies of Thane but that was still niche. Ly was working 17 hours a day, and with the percentage these apps charge, it meant barely any profits, “ explains Malhotra. That’s when he suggested she start a supper club earlier this year.
The Studio allows (@__the_studio___) Ly to serve 14 diners at every seating who come looking for an immersive experience of Vietnamese culture, willing to pay as much as R2,500 a meal. The move to Mumbai was challenging but the 34-year-old has adapted and even adopted some Hindi. Her conversations are now peppered with “bartan”, “theek”, and “thoda thoda”. And, she’s becoming a Mumbaikar by eating her way through the city “Theek hai,” she says about how she is enjoying Mumbai life. But Malhotra says that it wasn’t easy. “She would go to shop for groceries and receive ‘China! China!’ slurs.”
Perhaps the supper club has become a way for Ly to promote her culture in her adopted country. When it comes to Vietnamese food though, for Ly, authenticity is key. She makes most sauces from scratch and relies on a few others–like the Vietnamese soy sauce–on imports. The rice noodles and rice paper rolls are imported too, along with coffee beans. Before every dining experience, Ly hand-roasts and grinds the coffee to make authentic Vietnamese iced coffee. And, bakes the baguettes herself for the banh mi. Malhotra says that Ly is also an expert butcher. He backs up his statement by quickly whipping out a video on his phone where Ly is seen taking over the knife at the local butcher shop to get the right cut of pork for the banh mi.
As she gradually adapts to aamchi Mumbai, at the core, she is a proud Vietnamese woman. You see it not only in the food she serves but also in the way she’s particular about choosing the most traditional nón lá (leaf hat or headwear) to wear for a photograph we request.
The good news: She has strengthened her friendships from Vietnam, including the one with Chef Hannah Ho who runs Little Saigon in Delhi’s Hauz Khas Market. She is actively attached to her community–which she estimates is 1,000 strong in India–whom she often hosts.