For Hieu, founder of Vietnamese Kitchen, the question of why he opened a restaurant in London always brings him back to his early days in the city. Then, a young marketing student making ends meet by waiting tables in a Vietnamese spot on Kingsland Road, he found himself in a very different East London from the dining hotspot it is today. That job planted the seed – a reminder of home, and of what he missed most: not just the delicious food, but the way people ate together.

Hieu grew up in Hanoi before moving to Saigon in his early teens, where he began to appreciate the distinctions between northern and southern Vietnam. After reunification in 1975, people carried recipes with them as they moved across the country, and for him, Saigon became a melting pot of cultures, endlessly evolving – from fast casual to fine dining.

In Hanoi, by contrast, meals were slow and social, rooted in family life. When Hieu first arrived in London, he missed those everyday moments of food shared over stories, passed around the table. “It’s not just about feeding people,” he says. “It’s about bringing them into our way of eating, our way of sharing life.” His first restaurant, Cây Tre, was built to bring that spirit with him. The menu was generous and comforting: clear broths like pho, bánh cuon filled with pork and mushroom, and dipping bowls of nuoc cham to share.

A few years later, he opened Viet Grill just down the road. If Cây Tre reflected Hanoi, Viet Grill channelled Saigon – a city where life happens around the table, from businessmen sealing deals over steaming hotpots to couples marking engagements with late-night celebrations. At Viet Grill, buckets of local beer, piles of moi (drinking snacks) and a constant hum of chatter recreated that same energy.

Then, Hieu wanted to capture yet another slice of home: the late-night bánh mì stalls that light up after sundown. In 2011, Kêu was born – inspired by Vietnam’s vibrant street scenes. He even worked with a London-based baker to perfect a crusty baguette sturdy enough to hold pâté, roasted meats and sweet, crunchy pickles. In Vietnam, bánh mì was late-night fuel; in London, Kêu made it a lunchtime staple.

For Hieu, the future lies in holding on to his roots while letting new ideas take shape. There will always be space for a proper bowl of pho done right, but there’s also room for evolution. When he first moved to London, Vietnamese flavours were muted, and dishes were adapted beyond recognition. Today, real Vietnamese food is served on tables across the city – something he considers more than just success.