CAPTURING THE NIGHT SKY
SWITZERLAND​​​​​​​
Published on Passion Passport​​​​​​​
Crossing the streets in Hanoi is like entering the sea on a stormy day, a flow of motorcycles as an endless set of roaring waves. Once the swell breaks, you need to trust yourself and jump in. Swimming against the currents, and tumbling around in the waves, you finally come out of the other side looking somewhat pathetic, gasping for air, thinking “Jesus, I thought this would be it.” Eating and cooking in Hanoi is sitting right on the edge by this sea, with a calm and slightly mad presumption that you won’t get wet. 
Around the low plastic tables, life is hectic — there’s a taste of chicken broth in the air as it simmers in metallic pots, the lingering smell of gasoline, the sound of water and soap splashing on the pavement, the loud thumps of women cutting chicken and colorful fruit carts creaking onwards, people slurping noodles and arguing and laughing in a language unknown… It’s all so wonderfully unfamiliar, an overloading feast for the senses. Chopsticks in hand, my sister and I tried almost everything, our palates enriched by spices, breaths filled by the aromas of distinct herbs, savoring mouthfuls of salty crispiness. Now it was time to dig in deeper, to swap our chopsticks for knives, pans, and pots, and get cooking ourselves.
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