Jellyfish Noodles and “The Old Path”

A lingering feeling, a bowl of jellyfish noodles and the soulful music of “The Old Path.”

She sat at a wooden table by the window, gazing out at the open, bright green gate. The yard, paved with ancient red bricks, was shaded by an old sea almond tree. Neatly arranged tables and chairs nestled among lush potted plants. The orange jasmine tree, adorned with tiny white buds, shimmered with water droplets. Pretty pink ground orchids swayed invitingly, while the lush green peanut grass was dotted with yellow flowers. The ambiance was serene and verdant.

“Have you been here long?” asked the salt-and-pepper haired man who had just sat down opposite her. She smiled and shook her head in response. He had aged well, she thought; his eyes still sparkled as he spoke.

“Did you find the restaurant easily?” He nodded, glancing around. The walls were painted bright yellow, and the windows were dark green. The tables and chairs were pale yellow, each adorned with a small, simple vase of flowers. She still preferred small, elegant restaurants as she did before.

He placed the menu the waiter had given him back on the table, looked at her and said, “You choose.” She looked through the menu thoughtfully, then turned to the waiter. “There’s a jellyfish noodle shop nearby. Can you get two portions for us?” “Sure, ma’am,” the waiter replied. (*)

After the waiter left, he raised his eyebrows and gave her a questioning smile. She smiled back. “This dish is light like Hue dishes. I think you can handle it.”

He asked half-jokingly, “Aren’t you afraid that I might break out in an allergy?”

“Then I’ll pick up some allergy medicine for you. You should try jellyfish noodles at least once to reminisce about Nha Trang.”

He looked at her thoughtfully. Her eyes lit up with a hint of mischief. “Jellyfish is best eaten right after it’s caught. Nha Trang’s jellyfish noodles have a different taste from the Saigon versions. You’ll definitely crave it once you’ve tasted it.”

“Don’t do this to me. If I start craving it, I’ll have to come back to Nha Trang all the time.” He countered, still ready to “pay back” like before.

She shrugged. “You used to take me to fine restaurants that few people knew about in Saigon. Now, with Saigon and Nha Trang only five hours apart, can’t you make the trip?”

He chuckled. When it came to talking, she never backed down if she didn’t want to. That used to leave him confused, often wondering if their two strong-willed natures meant they were truly right for each other.

The waiter quickly brought the dishes to the table. The broth was clear and fragrant with fish and onions. Golden fish cakes and small white rice noodles accompanied a couple of white fish pieces next to transparent jellyfish legs. The bright yellow pineapple and red tomatoes were enticing.

“You can add stir-fried chili, acetes paste, and a squeeze of lemon. This restaurant always cleans the vegetables well, so don’t worry.”

The broth was sweet and fragrant, with a hint of spicy chili and the richness of acetes paste. The fish cakes and fish were both very fresh, perfectly seasoned. He especially enjoyed the jellyfish legs, which were crunchy and chewy with a faint taste of the ocean. As he savored each bite, he knew he would miss this charming dish.

When the waiter cleared the table and asked what they wanted to drink, they both blurted out at the same time: “Iced coffee without sugar for you?” “Cappuccino with extra sugar for you?” They both laughed, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed.

The aroma of fragrant coffee filled the air. Soft music played, with singer Pham Hoai Nam’s voice resonating warmly after a passionate violin opening, accompanied by gentle guitar:

“On the old path, I miss you silently

Our sweet promises and love vows

On summer afternoons, when our love overflowed

Your whispers to me were poetry.” (**)

The sunlight outside was bright and warm. She spoke softly, almost to herself, “You know, I once wrote a poem.” He gently responded, “Read it to me.” She dreamily looked at the shadows of the sea almond leaves swaying gently in the yard. “It’s been so long, I’ve almost forgotten it. I only remember the last two lines.” She read softly and slowly, making him listen carefully to hear her.

“When one / overlooked / someone,

No one knows. Only God beholds and chuckles.”

They fell silent. Only the singer’s plaintive voice remained:

“With passionate, glamor songs of love

I wrap up the fading dream.”

** “The Old Path“, music by Quoc Dung, lyrics by Nguyen Duc Cuong.

* She asked the waiter to fetch the food from a nearby restaurant. This is a common service in Vietnam, though it might seem unusual elsewhere.

mlefood – Minh Lê