Dinner and a show: Vancouver's Anh and Chi Vietnamese restaurant partners with The Cultch for a culinary-arts pairing

Both the Mount Pleasant eatery and the play we the same were born out of the experiences of Vietnamese refugees

Anh and Chi, at 3388 Main Street, serves authentic Vietnamese cuisine. Photo by Leila Kwok courtesy of Anh and Chi

 
 
 

WE THE SAME, Ruby Slippers Theatre’s play that is having its world premiere at the Cultch November 3 to 7, was inspired by the true story of a Vietnamese family that fled Saigon by boat in 1979. Written by Sangeeta Wylie, the piece explores how the refugees overcame unfathomable dangers such as pirate attacks, typhoons, shipwreck, and starvation and how, some four decades later, a mother finally shared the story with her daughter.

Vincent Nguyễn and Amélie Nguyễn. Photo by Richie Lubaton

Born to Vietnamese refugees and raised in Vancouver, Vincent and Amélie Nguyễn can relate to the script.

They are the brother-and-sister team behind Anh and Chi, a restaurant in Mount Pleasant that serves authentic Vietnamese fare. The siblings’ mom, Lý Nguyen, spent her childhood in her mom's Saigon café. Prior to the fall of Saigon in 1975, the restaurant played Nhac Vang “Yellow music”, songs of peace and freedom, which were then banned throughout the country. The café became a gathering place for artists, musicians, and other members of the community.

Lý and her husband, Hoàng Nguyen, came to Canada as boat people from Vietnam in 1980. They launched Pho Hoàng, the first pho speciality house in the city and also its longest-lasting.

Anh and Chi (which means brother and sister) is Vincent and Amélie’s way of carrying on their parents’ legacy. Celebrating its fifth anniversary this year, the modern restaurant has won multiple awards, with their mom, chef Lý, passing down her recipes and secrets. (Their father has since passed.)

Lý Nguyên. Photo by Angel Lynne

In the lead-up to the opening of we the same, Amélie Nguyen and Wylie got talking. They’re good friends, and Nguyen used to be on the Cultch’s board. Why not team up to lend each other support and offer Vancouverites the chance to take the theatre experience to the next level with a related culinary experience?

Anh and Chi ‘s we the same ticket package includes a $50 gift card to the restaurant (redeemable anytime); 20 percent off livestream show tickets; and a complimentary Main Street Neighbourhood Tote designed by Vancouver artists Mikayla Hong and Arina Sin (valued at $30, while supplies last).

Stir connected with Amélie Nguyen to hear more about her family’s roots, the menu at Anh and Chi, and the importance of sharing stories of Vietnamese refugees, whether through food or the performing arts.

 

It’s fascinating to me that your grandma's restaurant in Saigon became a hub for artists. How did she and your parents persevere during what must have been extraordinarily difficult years in the period before your family fled?

Lý and Hoàng Nguyên, 1991. Photo courtesy of Nguyên Family Archives

Our grandma, like many women, has evolved to be so resilient, even through war and displacement. Bà Ngoại (or maternal grandma) grew up very poor in Northern Vietnam. To earn a living for her family of nine children, she would walk from her small commune to the city centre, carrying across her back a stick that held two baskets filled with bananas to sell. Bananas are heavy! Soon she was carrying “Bún riêu” (or crab tomato noodle soup) with the same stick and baskets and going a similar distance, but in the South of Vietnam. By this time, our mom was around, and she recalls coming out from primary school during her lunch break to help grandma wash dishes—only then could she have a bowl of noodles—and then run back to class. Only after many years of vending on street corners did our grandparents own a little café and noodle shop in district 1 of Saigon. This is the very place my parents met. 

Our grandma had built her ability to endure hardship after hardship from a young age, and so by the time they had their café in Saigon, an actual shop with a roof, tables and rattan chairs, it was not so bad. In fact, the South of Vietnam was doing well in the 1970s, and the café was bustling. This music hub partly started with my dad bringing in Beatles' 8-track tapes to impress my mom but mostly from my mom playing Yellow music, or Nhạc vàng, which is music created by famous Vietnamese composers between the 1950s and ’70s, compiled of songs about love, peace, and freedom. In fact, Nhạc vàng was banned throughout Vietnam at the time, but my mom managed to play it! During the Vietnam war, people felt trapped and needed an outlet to express themselves, which they did at our café. 

Grandma served and was well known for her beef noodle soup (Phở) and spicy beef noodle soup (Bún bò Huế ); paired with the classic Vietnamese drip coffee in the South.

Grandma is now in her 90s, madly in love, and living with grandpa and her many children and grandchildren in Seattle.

 

Anh and Chi offers takeout, dine-in, and Reservation by Donation, with funds going to local charities. Photo by Vy Tran courtesy Anh and Chi

 

Your family's history in Vancouver's restaurant industry is remarkable. How does food link you and your family to your culture?

In Vietnamese culture, we do not say I love you, give hugs and share kisses—not so much, anyway. Instead, we share our love through food. That's how our mom loved us, and this is how we continue to love our friends, family... our greater community. My mom was asked for our short documentary, Me, "what does food mean to you?" She shared, "food is love". And it is so true... She first made phở in Vancouver because she loved and missed the culture she had left behind, then cooked more and more as her family grew from one to three children, from one to three restaurants at a time, and now, even though retired, she continues to cook because she loves seeing delightful faces and tummies at Anh and Chi.

Vincent and I tried to run away from the noodle business, but it is so deeply rooted at our core, we had to come back and transform it.

If we had to pick the three dishes that tell our story... it would be Grandma's Crab Noodle Soup (the start of the Nguyen family's connection to food), our caramelized Arctic char, and king prawn tamarind soup. These were our favourite dishes our mom made for us as kids; as she was busy working all the time as a newcomer, we would share these meals at 10 at night—and it was so delicious. Having dinner together around a small table continues to be our family's love language, and I think many people share this too.

 

You used to be on the Cultch’s board. Why did you want to be involved in this way? 

I was groomed to love the sciences—every Vietnamese family wants a medical professional in their family—but truly, I admire and gravitate to the arts so much, especially in recent years. My good friend Sangeeta Wylie, playwright of we the same, suggested that I join the Cultch's board. While I was interested, I hummed and hawed a bit because I was already on the board of directors with the Vancouver Asian Film Festival—I love sharing stories through film! But after experiencing the Cultch's 2019 East Van Panto: Pinocchio, I was 100-percent certain I wanted to be a part of this progressive cultural hub. I saw a diverse representation of race, age, identity, even a modern definition of family, in the show and I was so pleased that new artforms are becoming more representative of the diversity we see in Vancouver (and the world). I have spent many years trying to transform health-care systems—I’m in my eighth year at the Fraser Health Authority, Population and Public Health Unit, specializing in health equity). So when diverse stories are being shared and we are bridging the equity gap, I go out of my way to support them. Grassroots organizations and businesses like the Cultch, VAFF, even Anh and Chi really do exemplify the inclusive and supported communities we want to be a part of.

 

How did the collaboration with we the same come about?

I have been involved in writing and filmmaking, and I know how much heart, time and relentless commitment it takes to see a production through. Sangeeta has worked so hard on this play for many years, and I have had the privilege to catch a glimpse into her journey and this story. Many second- and third-generation Vietnamese people do not know the details of their parents’ or grandparents' history—our ancestors never shared it because they blocked out that dark and often traumatic history—with their new lives in Canada.

I hope that everyone gets a chance to learn more about the Vietnamese refugee story, and many more real, present-day asylum-seeking stories that need to be heard. Understanding what is going on around the world can transform the way we create systems, organizations, and the way we build our communities here. I am honoured that she chose a Vietnamese refugee story to tell, and that I can be a part of it. Sangeeta planted the seed and we made it happen.

 

Photo by Vy Tran courtesy Anh and Chi

 

Congratulations on your five-year anniversary. What does this milestone mean for you and your family? 

"We share our love through food."

Thank you! It means this is the start of something wonderful, and when we focus on the people and the experience we share, from our heart to theirs, we can really make a difference in our world. Anh and Chi celebrates our fifth anniversary through COVID-19 and have raised over $40,000 in under six months through our Reservation by Donation Program that contributes to important and local charities supporting marginalized groups of people in our community. We thank all our guests who have donated and helped us support young children with food; people experiencing violence, discrimination, or homelessness; and industry folks have also been hit hard through the pandemic. In this fifth year, we learned that with this team we call family, we can and have pivoted to great lengths and can do anything! Because our core value for food and family remains, and if we take that into our next five, some more super amazing things will happen!

Winter comes with a new bar menu being released November 30 and the official unveiling of our new and winterized patio.

For more information, see https://anhandchi.com/. 

 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 

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