Vin Hơi, or: how to eat well, drink interesting wine, and not take yourself too seriously

Some restaurants want you to admire them. Others want you to behave. A rare few just want you to relax, eat something good, drink something curious, and maybe talk to a stranger. Vin Hơi sits very comfortably in that third category.

It occupies a tall, narrow house on Hàng Bún, spread across three slightly ramshackle floors. Parts of it feel unfinished, but in a way that reads as confidence rather than neglect. This is not a temple to gastronomy. It is more like a very assured dinner party that forgot to issue instructions.

The idea is straightforward. Shared plates. Natural wine. Cooking that understands French technique but refuses to show off about it. Vietnamese nhậu spirit filtered through Parisian kitchens, minus the stiffness and the ego.

Chef Hải trained in Michelin-starred kitchens in France, which means he knows how to be extremely serious about food. Instead, he has chosen to cook things that look almost suspiciously simple, until you taste them.

“I want people to feel good when they eat,” he says. Not impressed. Not educated. Just good. That turns out to be the guiding principle here.

We started with toasted focaccia and chestnut vanilla butter at VNĐ75,000, which quietly resets expectations. Vanilla is used as seasoning rather than sweetness, paired with earthy chestnut, and the result is oddly comforting and gently surprising.

Eggs with mayonnaise at VNĐ60,000 sound aggressively plain, but the mayo is made with house-fermented black garlic that takes weeks to prepare. The flavour is deep, sweet, almost caramelised, turning a bistro cliché into something glossy and addictive.

Crispy baby potatoes at VNĐ90,000 are exactly what you want them to be, helped along by raw garlic that was, according to Hải, a happy mistake. They replaced the original wedges and never looked back.

The clams with chao sabayon and pickled chilli at VNĐ130,000 might be the dish that best explains the restaurant. Fermented tofu, white wine and gentle heat come together in a way that feels both French and Vietnamese without trying too hard to prove either point.

Burnt cabbage with miso butter at VNĐ130,000 leans into controlled bitterness, rescued by a beurre blanc that is salty, sour and unapologetically buttery. It will not be everyone’s favourite, and that is fine.

The pâté en croûte at VNĐ180,000 is a standout. Rich, nostalgic, and deeply satisfying, it is the kind of dish you quietly plan a return visit around. The steak with aligot at VNĐ250,000 is pure comfort. Aligot is notoriously difficult to get right outside France, and Hải spent months working with Vietnamese cheese producers to dial it in. It shows.

Dessert was a baked Alaska at VNĐ120,000, which doubles as kitchen logic. Egg whites left over from the ice cream programme become meringue. Practicality becomes nostalgia.

Natural wine anchors the experience, with bottles starting from around VNĐ1 million. They are expressive, occasionally funky, and very food-friendly. Order with guidance.

Our bill for two came to about VNĐ2.5 million, roughly half of that wine. The food itself is excellent value.

Vin Hơi is not fusion. It is not fine dining. It is a warm, slightly chaotic, deeply personal bistro where technique serves feeling and ego has been politely shown the door.

Come hungry. Come curious. Do not expect the same menu twice. That is the deal, and it is a good one.

Vin Hơi

38 Hàng Bún Street, Ba Đình, Hà Nội

Tue–Sun, 6pm until midnight