The day I arrived in Quy Nhon, this already supremely chilled out seaside town was in the process of shutting down for the New Year celebrations, meaning that the vibe was so laid-back it was almost horizontal. Almost nothing was open, nearly everyone was at home with the family, and one's options for eating and drinking were severely limited. So thank god that, as I arrived in town on the back of a motorbike taxi, I glimpsed the Kim Dinh through the palm trees on the seafront.

Though nothing more than an open-front unit with chairs and tables on the pavement out the front, something about the place immediately appealed to me, and sure enough, it became my default hangout for the duration of my stay in Quy Nhon.

Like all the best cafes in Vietnam, the Kim Dinh does not make a song and dance over its operation. The only things sold here are coffee, tea, sinh to, and the classic central-coast region snack, banh beo. All of which were done to perfection.

The banh beo, above, came bathed in a unctuous, vinegary (in a good way) sauce, which worked wonderfully with the glutinous chewy texture of the pancakes. Great with an iced coffee, but even better with the Kim Dinh's signature sinh to, which, like the amazing sinh to that made up The Best Breakfast of my Life, was a combination of fruits rather than just one or two, including avocados, papayas, and dragon fruit, among others.

What took this sinh to to even greater heights, however, was that the fruits were not blended as is usual with sinh to, but arrived at my table roughly chopped, along with crushed ice and - oh my - a generous dollop of condensed milk.

The photo above is of the many glasses of the fruit, minus the ice and milk, which the Kim Dinh staff prepare in advance for when there's a rush of customers (because almost EVERYONE orders the sinh to). The opening photo is of after the whole lot has been mixed together into a delicious mess and is waiting patiently for me to devour it.

Just the thing before a stroll along the seafront at sunset.

Kim Dinh
18a Nguyen Hue,
Quy Nhon,
Vietnam.

As I’ve already written about, cafe culture in Vietnam is huge – both of the no-frills, cheap and cheerful kind, and the more fancy, European-influenced variety. I love both; the former for a quick caffeine fix, and latter for when I want to lounge the afternoon away. I drank at innumerable cafes while I was in Vietnam (oh the hardships of the life of a food writer!), but these two were my favourites.

The runner-up, featured in the two photos above, is Le Fenetre Soleil in Saigon. Hidden away on the second floor of a perfectly ordinary corner building, and accessed by a disconcertingly dingy stairway, Le Fenetre Soleil was a breath of fresh air in hot, sweaty Saigon. With its plush, romantic decor, this cafe made me feel like I’d stepped back into a more sophisticated time – though that impression was somewhat spoiled by the rather exorbitant prices, meaning I had to make my delicious dragon fruit smoothie last.

Money was not an issue, however, at my most favourite classy cafe in Vietnam, Nola in Hanoi. Almost as cheap as the places out on the street, Nola, like Le Fenetre Soleil, is a bit difficult to find, down a narrow alley off May Ma in the Old Quarter, but it more than repays the effort.

Cooly Bohemian, Nola is the kind of cafe I’d like to open one day – full of gorgeous, retro knick-knacks and off-beat, quirky touches (like a canopy of umbrellas on the roof terrace, for example).

I came back to Nola so many times I think the staff must have thought I lived in Hanoi – which, with such delights as Nola to tempt me, I’m quite tempted to do one day.

Le Fenetre Soleil
2/F, 135 Le Thanh Ton Street, District 1, Saigon.

Nola
89 Ma May, Hanoi.

I've been holding off from writing this post for a while now, keeping my fingers crossed that I'll eat a breakfast that beats this incredible morning feast I ate in Hoi An last week. So far, though, it's not happened, and to be frank, it would take something pretty bloody spectacular to top this one. So, here it is: The Best Breakfast of my Life.

As with all good breakfasts in Vietnam, it started early. Up and out of bed and on the streets by 7, I was rushing to the market when I encountered this: soymilk, Vietnam-style.

For me, this epitomizes all the differences between China and Vietnam's drinking cultures. In the former, soymilk is drunk hot or warm; in the latter, it's given the same treatment as coffee and tea - iced to within an inch of its life, which in China would be seen as a serious threat to one's health. Me, I adore it, and so nicely refreshed and ready for more substantial fare, I headed to the riverfront market, where, right on the edge of the quay, I found this:

The vendor was serving my quang, one of central Vietnam's most famous noodle dishes: springy rice noodles, beansprouts, herbs, shrimp, quail's eggs, chopped peanuts and a dash of lime juice.

Totally delectable, and even better with the beautiful view.

Most people would probably be satisfied by these two offerings, but predictably, not me. Feeling the weight of all Hoi An market's delicious foods on my shoulders, I felt duty bound to keep eating, and so headed next to a stall whose wares I had sampled the day before.

This is banh khaoi, and the stall came with a recommendation that did not disappoint. In the batter of freshly made pancakes nestles a piece of pork and half a shrimp, upon which is piled beansprouts, fresh herbs and green banana slices; the whole lot is then wrapped up in a sheet of rice paper, and dipped in a sweet and tangy sauce.

Though by this point I was pretty full, I figured I had just enough space for one more drink from a sinh to stall I'd spied just a few doors down.

And oh boy, was a glad that I did, for look what I got.

This wasn't your standard, middle of the road type sinh to, but a luxurious sinh to fit for a queen. Not only was it a blend of a number of different fruits (instead of the normal one), it had a topping which took the drink to a whole different level: crunchy, roasted slivers of coconut, a whole dried Chinese date, and juicy, lychee-flavour jelly cubes. Many different textures going on there, and for some perhaps too many, but I couldn't get enough of it - although, as you might imagine, I drank this last part of The Best Breakfast of my Life very, very slowly.

Hanoi is, as I've already mentioned, an utterly charming city, and one of these many charms is it's rich cafe culture. I'm not talking about the (often lovely) kind of cafe aimed towards foreign tourists; but rather the countless unfussy establishments that cater to the local's seemingly unquenchable thirst for coffee and tea, both hot and cold.

I've been hugely enjoying this cafe culture over the past week, especially when with my great friend Karin, who was also in Hanoi until just the other day. The cafes we've been frequenting are not the sort of places to linger on one's own with a book or a newspaper, but they are perfect for a quick drink and chat with a buddy.

One particular joint Karin and I went to several times was a rather characterful place near the apartment where we were staying. This area, far away from the touristy centre, was nonetheless full of great eateries, and at midday the streets were full and bustling with office workers on their lunch break. Karin and I would often come to this area for a breakfast bowl of pho or bun, followed by a glass of this cafe's excellent coffee - black for Karin, white for me.

I actually don't usually drink coffee, but the way there serve it here in Vietnam, ice-cold and with a generous dollop of sweet condensed milk, turns it closer to chocolate milk-shake than espresso - which, luckily, suits me all the better.

104 Ngoc Khanh
Ba Dinh district
Hanoi