Bánh Mì: a simple sandwich with an overlooked history
Four dollars and 75 cents. That’s all you have left in your pocket after spending about 95% of your $100 budget on night out drinking with your friends from college and a couple of strangers. As you stumble out of the front door of the all too familiar local sports bar, you hear a loud growling rumble from your stomach yearning for some sweet yet savory food. The regret of the third “next round’s on me” is instantly replaced with a brilliant idea as you make your way towards the dimmed sign reading “BÁNH MÌ” in big red block letters.
The idea of bánh mì began with French colonial Vietnam and their adaptation to the French baguette. After the communists drove out the French and took control of North Vietnam, many Vietnamese took refuge in the South; those refugees “Vietnamized” the simple baguette by stuffing it with Vietnamese cold cut, fresh herbs, and pickled vegetables and rebranding it as bánh mì. The rebranding started making its way to the United States as a result of the same refugee history except now in the United States. After the Vietnam War, Vietnamese refugees settled in refugee camps along the west coast and in southern states, mainly California and Texas to be exact; along with the refugees came bánh mì, which at the time was the most efficient and cheap food for a Vietnamese immigrant.
Making up 2% of American restaurant sandwich menus, a five-fold increase since 2014 which continues to rise, the Bánh Mì has become the first choice sandwich for every lunch in the United States. The rapid popularity growth begs an important question: how has a piece of Vietnamese history become ubiquitous in an American society?
From the crunchy rigid texture of the baguette to the salty yet sweet mayonnaise combined with the cold deli meats and pickled carrots and daikon, it is safe to say that we welcome the bánh mì with such enthusiasm for amplifying the flavor of a classic American favorite. Bánh mì adds an exotic Asian element to the familiarity of the American diet; it has become the alternative to a Subway sandwich when you want to add some Asian flavoring to your meal or when you want to explore other cuisines without being too adventurous. However, for the older Vietnamese community in the US, bánh mì is a reminder of the struggles as a refugee in America. While the American culture has embraced bánh mì for alighting tastebuds with its mouth-watering ingredients, an important piece of Vietnamese refugee history which is rooted in the bánh mì tends to be overlooked in favor for alterations of a new “bánh mì” that are possibly beyond the point of authenticity.
An increasing acclaimed fame for bánh mì has arguably snubbed it as a Vietnamese contribution in favor for its transformation to fit to the American flavor profile. Originally, the Bánh Mì was made to be the staple food and income of the working poor. However, it slowly became adulterated with an American palette once it landed in the United States, a country that continues to assimilate foreign cultures into American ones, in the 1980s. The classic crunchy baguette was replaced for a softer texture, such as sub sandwich bread or ciabatta bread. The traditional sweet and salty Vietnamese mayonnaise turned into tangy regular American mayo and Vietnamese cold meats such as chả lụa was swapped for basic ham. Even the famous name of bánh mì has been changed, which in my opinion is a crime, to a “Vietnamese po’ boy” which even won the 2009 award for the best po’ boy at the annual Oak Street Po-Boy Festival in Louisiana. Nevertheless, this means that, even with a detachment of the original name and authentic ingredients, the parodies of bánh mì still succeed as a reappropriation of what it originally was.
Hence, some may argue that the successful translation of bánh mì into American society is not derived from its cultural origins. Rather it is because of our alteration of flavors that makes bánh mì appealing to us; it is this kind of adaption of an American palette into the Vietnamese one that has ingrained bánh mì into the American culture. To many Vietnamese immigrants, the idea of inauthenticity is what is wrong with introducing bánh mì in a country full of assimilation. Yet is bánh mì inauthentic if we change the fillings or the ingredients?
In a way, the changing of ingredients fits into the narrative of American cultural imperialism. By changing elements of the recipe to fit the American appeal, it forces the absorption of ethnic dishes into the mainstream American culture. This form of cultural imperialism is best illustrated by the controversial headline of cultural appropriation of the ethnic dining hall food at Oberlin College in Ohio. The Atlantic author Conor Friedersdorf believes that the claims made by Oberlin students on the cultural appropriation due to the changing of ingredients of certain ethnic dining hall foods, specifically sushi and bánh mì, are farfetched. The tweaking of ingredients in ethnic foods shouldn’t be considered as “appropriative” as they are “inseparable from cultural collisions”. In other words, the collision of American culture against ethnic ones justifies the changing of ingredients as non-appropriative. I agree with Friedersdorf that the Oberlin students’ claim of tweaking some ingredients of an ethnic cuisine does not warrant the title of cultural appropriation. In my opinion, changing some ingredients in an ethnic dish simply demonstrates the concept of “Americanization”; by “Americanizing” bánh mì, superficially, it is easier to digest and popularize because of the familiarity of the American flavor. While this version of bánh mì looks different from its origin, the cultural traditions of the dish remain the same. Bánh mì is still revered as an Asian meal and is eaten with the same white paper wrap that it first came in. While I personally wouldn’t touch a ciabatta-pulled pork “bánh mì” from a mile away, it is still Vietnamese, and it wouldn’t have gained the popularity it has today without adjusting it to our overly salty and sweet American palette.
Here some may argue that the Americanization of foreign plates is a form of cultural imperialism where the United States homogenizes any foreign food that enters the American culinary sphere. To put it another way, Americanizing ethnic dishes will lead to the loss of the original culture of the dish as cultural plates are adapting to us and our flavor profile instead of the other way round. Yet, I believe the original culture is being integrated instead of annihilated; the adaptation of bánh mì goes both ways as Americans have adapted their tastebuds for the bánh mì; without us adapting our palette for bánh mì, it would not be as omnipresent as it is today. Even though there are changes of some aspects to the bánh mì to compliment the mild and sweet American taste, I would consider these as refinements to the original bánh mì as opposed to a complete change to the bánh mì just to fit the American appeal.
But with the Americanization of bánh mì comes with darker underlying implications. As a result of us changing the bánh mì, we start to forget the true reason of how bánh mì came about in the US. Sophia Ling examined this concept of Americanization of food and lack of cultural integrity that comes with it. She discovered that, with immigration, culinary adaptation is bound to happen one way or another; the important thing to note is that while mixing cuisines allows for a wider reception, understanding the history and stories of said cuisine is also important. To put it another way, the fusion of cuisines and cultures doesn’t excuse you from perpetrating racism or disrespecting its origins. The Americanization of bánh mì greatly exemplifies this lack of respect for not just the story behind but for the people who introduced bánh mì to America in the first place.
Having left a comfortable lifestyle to reside in a new country with nothing, Vietnamese refugees opened bánh mì shops as a means of making ends meet; this is the real reason why bánh mì was even introduced to the American society. Bánh mì then became popularized as the cheap staple lunch meal for local college students and office workers who are looking to get something quick and cheap during their lunch break. For instance, the first bánh mì vendor gained traction by selling to the local community for a cheap price. With the meal being cheaper than a $6.50 Spicy Italian Footlong at Subway and most fast-food restaurants, bánh mì became the new item to buy for lunch.
Consequently, this led to the Americanization of bánh mì as I previously mentioned. Yet as more and more Americans grabbed a new adaptation of bánh mì, it became more about the aesthetic taste and posting a tasty trendy photo of bánh mì on Instagram; the refugee story ended up being lost in translation. The story of the Vietnamese refugees is rooted in bánh mì and authentic bánh mì shops. Originally, the image of a bánh mì shop included musty, yellow dimmed ceiling lights and metal trays of bánh mì fillings as lower shelving consisted of other Vietnamese snacks; this image is a depiction of the lifestyle of a Vietnamese refugee. With a desire for aesthetic, bánh mì shops began to look more modern and Americanized; instead of looking like a cheap repairment of a rundown building, a bánh mì shop is now filled with aesthetically pleasing light signs and decorations that remind you a fancy restaurant. Admittedly, the new look of a bánh mì shop attracts a wider audience and therefore, allowing bánh mì to gain more popularity. However, the original look, which holds the struggles endured by Vietnamese refugees, is now overlooked. There is no more respect for the origin of bánh mì; this Americanization invites the assimilation of Vietnamese culture into the American one.
Whether this is new or old information to you, what does it mean for the future of bánh mì? Does it mean that we should stop eating its Americanized versions to avoid such issues? To this, I’d say it means that there is a fine line between cultural appreciation and cultural appropriation, and one should be mindful when eating ethnic cuisines. Despite its successful translation into American culture, ignorance of its origins, mainly of the stories of the Vietnamese refugees, should be addressed and resolved. Bánh mì is one of the (food) representations of globalization; its popularity from the mixing of cultures demonstrates its globality yet its Americanization also demonstrates the implications of globalization, especially in regard to food’s linkage with culture. It will be interesting to explore the Americanization of other ethnic cuisines and see whether the same broad implications hold true. If the same trend follows, what does that say about food culture in the United States? Can there be a change, or will many lose their cultural integrity in favor for aesthetic popularity?
