Photo: Contiki
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Who wouldn’t love a cup of freshly brewed Vietnamese iced coffee on a hot summer day? But in Vietnam, there’s more to savor than just cà phê sữa đá, the iconic blend of bold coffee and condensed milk. After a month in Hoi An, I learned that coffee isn’t just a beverage here; rather, it’s the heartbeat of the streets, the backdrop to conversation, silence, and everything in between.
Vietnam is one of the world’s largest coffee producers, and the robusta beans grown in its highlands around Da Lat are strong, rich, and high in caffeine. But what makes Vietnamese coffee truly special is the way it’s served, the spaces it inhabits, and the slowness it invites.
Hoi An: A Coffee-Lover’s Dream
Hoi An is the kind of town that makes you slow down without trying. And when it comes to coffee, it offers not just variety, but atmosphere. With over 100 cafés scattered through the town, some nestled between lantern-lit alleys, others perched beside rice paddies or hidden behind quiet beaches, every cup tells a story.
One slow afternoon, I walked past golden fields and found myself at Roving Chillhouse. Set amidst a stretch of swaying paddy fields, this café felt like a hidden world. The sun cast a soft glow across the landscape. Farmers worked quietly in the distance, bent over green fields, their rhythm unhurried, just like the coffee being brewed behind the counter.
I ordered a coconut coffee and took my seat, feet up, eyes wandering across the horizon. There were no sounds of scooters, no chatter – just the occasional rustle of palm leaves and the distant coo of birds. The drink arrived cold and creamy, sweet yet bold, like a tropical espresso dessert.
I sat there for hours, doing absolutely nothing. And it was perfect.
Later, I discovered another hidden gem in Hoi An – Sound of Silence – a café with a name that perfectly captured what it had to offer. I arrived just before sunset, drawn by whispers of a secret beach hidden at the back. I ordered my usual coconut coffee and followed the narrow path leading from the café. It opened up to a quiet, untouched stretch of beach, where the sky was already melting into orange and purple.
The sun dipped slowly into the sea as I stood barefoot in the sand, cup in hand. It was one of the most breathtaking sunsets I’ve ever seen. Everything else – emails, timelines, even time itself – just faded away. There was only that moment, that sky, and that coffee.
Image source:Jimmy Art Devier / unsplash
Coffee as a Social Ritual
In Vietnam, coffee is not just consumed; it’s experienced. You’ll find people gathering early in the morning or late into the evening, often sitting on small plastic stools on the sidewalks. Most cafés here have seating arranged to face the roads, not each other. People-watchers would call it a dream, but for locals, it’s simply how they engage with their community.
The setup encourages a quiet camaraderie. You might be alone, but you’re never lonely. You sit, sip, and watch the city pass by – children playing, street vendors calling out, motorbikes zigzagging through narrow lanes. And somehow, amidst all that movement, you feel still.
Even in big cities like Saigon, the pace of life revolves around the act of drinking coffee. Tiny cafés spill onto the pavements, and locals gather not in a hurry, but in a deliberate pause. It’s never about the caffeine rush, but more about the conversations.
The Art of the Phin
One thing I came to adore was the traditional phin filter, an unassuming little metal brewer that sits on top of your cup, allowing the coffee to drip slowly, drop by drop. There’s a small ceremony to it: you place the grounds, pour hot water, and wait.
Watching that slow drip became a meditative ritual for me. It wasn’t about efficiency. It was about allowing space for thought, for breath, for stillness. That’s the gift Vietnamese coffee offers: the chance to simply sit.
A Palette of Unexpected Flavors
Beyond the classic cà phê sữa đá, I was constantly surprised by the diversity of drinks available. Egg coffee, which I first tried in Hanoi, was like sipping warm custard, velvety and sweet, with a strong espresso base. I later tried salt coffee in Da Nang, where a pinch of salt added an earthy depth that beautifully balanced the bitterness.
There was even caramel coffee, yoghurt coffee, and yes, coconut coffee in every imaginable twist. Some served theirs with a scoop of ice cream, while others used fresh coconut milk and toasted flakes on top. It felt less like ordering a drink and more like a culinary adventure.
A Window Into Culture
Vietnamese coffee culture is beautifully democratic. It thrives in upscale cafés with handcrafted interiors and on humble sidewalks with mismatched stools. Wherever you go, you’ll see people taking their time with it. Whether you’re chatting with friends or sitting in silence, coffee is the anchor that holds the moment together.
I quickly realized that coffee in Vietnam isn’t just something people drink. It allows them to pause, connect, and find meaning in the ordinary moments of life.
Image source:Contiki
Sip Slowly, Stay Longer
By the time my month in Vietnam came to an end, I was absolutely in love with the iced coffee (above everything else!). And I was equally intrigued by the culture of savoring coffee. Every café I stepped into became a small universe, and in every cup, I had a chance to lose myself, then find my way back.
If you ever find yourself in Vietnam, take your time. Don’t just grab a coffee on the go. Pick a stool, face the street, and let the world unfold in front of you. Because here, when the coffee is this good, why rush?
