At Lê's Restaurant, a Taste of Belonging

Walking through The Garage during peak dining hours, you’ve probably caught sight of a college student sitting at a wooden table inside Lê’s Vietnamese Restaurant, slurping a bowl of Phở with intense focus. The scent of shaved onion and cilantro, tender beef slices covering a bed of white rice noodles like a crown, and clear, rich broth all combine to create the national dish that brings Vietnamese cuisine to global recognition.

However, to students of Viet origin like myself, Vietnamese food is beyond the Phở or bánh mì commonly offered at Vietnamese eateries around America. It is an amalgamation of many dishes, signifying the simplest things: community, love, and belonging.

Growing up, my family had countless gatherings at my parents’ home in Sài Gòn. My mom and aunts would spend several hours preparing all the dishes before everyone arrived — cá tai tượng chiên giòn (fried gourami), gỏi ngó sen tôm thịt (lotus salad with shrimp and pork), cơm gà luộc (herb-boiled chicken thighs with rice), mực nướng muối ớt (grilled dried squid dipped in chili sauce), and the occasional sweet and sour hotpot extravaganza. All of these dishes were served in large trays, which my family members would sit around and share together.

As a young girl and the eldest child in the family, I was the liaison between the busy kitchen and the lively living room, transporting steaming dishes to the dining table. I always had the best seat at the table, between the hosts of the party — my mom and dad — enjoying all the delicacies of Vietnamese cuisine. At the table, we were joined by family, friends, and sometimes friends of friends. We shared conversations about the dishes, released mental strains from daily work, and enjoyed each other’s company without fear of judgment or alienation.

In 2015, my family and I moved to California. Despite our changing lifestyle and new environment, we maintained our daily dinner gatherings, though now a smaller version. Large bowls of jasmine white rice, cá kho tộ (caramelized catfish in a clay pot), muống xào tỏi (sauteed garlic spinach), and canh chua (sweet and sour soup) still made their usual appearance on our large dinner tray.

Like many typical Vietnamese families, we don’t often say “I love you,” or even “I like you.” Instead, we express our affection through food. For us, love is the bún bò Huế (Huế beef noodle soup) my mom would spend the entire afternoon preparing for dinner, the bún thịt nướng chả giò (grilled meat vermicelli with spring rolls) my dad would buy for me and my brother before school, or the freshly-made pastries and frozen thịt kho trứng (caramelized pork and eggs) my family sent via one-day priority mail on my birthday or for Lunar New Year.

Now that I’m in college, where family is far, enjoying a handmade gỏi cuốn (fresh summer roll) dipped in the sweet, rich peanut sauce at Lê’s offers me great comfort and authentic tastes of home. I often converse with Ms. Lê, the restaurant manager, and other restaurant staff, to share updates from school and home. Eating at this small, cozy restaurant right around the corner of JFK Street is like having a home away from home.

Walking back to Kirkland after a draining lab day, particularly when HUDS is not at all appetizing, I find myself sitting at one of the dining tables at Lê’s five minutes later. Without looking at the menu, I order my usual gỏi cuốn (spring rolls), bún thịt nướng chả giò (grilled meat vermicelli), cá kho tộ (caramelized catfish in a clay pot), and canh chua (sweet and sour soup). Yes, even though I usually come to Lê’s by myself, I always order a feast.

***

For other Vietnamese students, the presence of the restaurant is also an indispensable part of their Harvard experience.

“Depend[ing] on how sad I am, Lê’s is gonna get good business from me,” Trâm N. Nguyễn ’22 says with a laugh. Nguyễn moved to the United States with her family at the age of 10, and when she went to college, her family meals were replaced by social gatherings at Lê’s with close friends, loved ones, and members of the Harvard Vietnamese Association.

Over the dinner table filled with Phở, cơm Tấm (Vietnamese broken rice served with grilled pork chop and fish cake), and hotpot, her friend group alleviates their daily school burdens and explores the different presentations, textures, and tastes of the dishes. “That’'s always my favorite part,” Nguyen exclaims, “showing my close friends an integral part of my life.”

Thương Q. “Alexandria” Hồ ’24, a sophomore in Adams, expresses finding similar solace. “During my first year, if I [had] a bad day in class, I would just go to Lê’s, and 80 percent of the time, Phở would be my go-to. It is my comfort food.”

For Nguyễn, Hồ, and many other students, Vietnamese cuisine relieves stress, allows them to relive their childhood memories, and provides a sense of belonging and identity.

Although we are all far from home, we have found our own Viet family here at Harvard. Every now and then, my friends and I attend an HVA dinner social at Lê’s. Beneath the red lanterns and dim light of the restaurant, we sit around the large wooden table and chat our stress and homesickness away. The dinner table is filled with cơm Tấm, Phở, bún bò Huế, and bún thịt nướng chả giò.

We drink and eat in pure happiness and liberation. Within this haven, there is only food and company.