Aside from jasmine rice, the other indispensable component of every Vietnamese meal is a family-sized bowl of “canh” (or soup).  It doesn’t matter what kind of “canh” it is: canh chua (pineapple sweet and sour soup), canh bầu (squash soup), or canh súp lơ (cauliflower, cabbage and potatoes soup)… all that matters is a bowl of “canh” is present.  In fact, it’s vital.  Why?

The average American single-served restaurant meal is the equivalent of food that a Vietnamese family of 4 had to live on, on a GOOD day.  Or at least that’s how it used to be when I grew up, and it’s probably still the case in poor rural areas.  When that is the portion we have to work with, we add a few spoonfuls of “canh” to our rice, so that the rice can expand in our bellies and make us feel full, so that the nutrition in the broth can make us strong to live another day.

And that is why “canh” is another symbol/image often referenced in our music and poetry.  And that is also why my mom always makes sure I have a bowl of “canh” when I get home, even though I insist that “We already have plenty of food, Mẹ.”