Located on the quiet Pho Duc Chinh Street, the small eatery run by Nguyen Thi Nghia, 63, has served generations of students and locals from the comfort of her own living room.

For over two decades, the glass cabinet at the front of her house displayed a rainbow of snacks. Behind it, a modest kitchen and about ten plastic tables made up the interior - decorated not with trendy design, but with dozens of photographs capturing moments with loyal customers, most of them students, young families, or curious foreign tourists.

The menu includes an eclectic mix of Vietnamese street food favorites: fried fish balls, mixed tre, rice crackers with toppings, spaghetti, Yangzhou fried rice, dumplings, sour pork rolls, tofu with pork floss, fried rice paper, grilled egg cakes, sausages, tamarind quail eggs, stir-fried corn, and more. Each dish is priced at 15,000 VND - around 0.60 USD.

Mrs. Nghia began selling food in 1994, initially serving chè bưởi (grapefruit sweet soup) and other traditional desserts at Ho Con Rua in District 3. Her chè quickly became a hit. But when she moved her business to her home in 2000, she struggled to attract customers.

To adapt, she switched to savory street snacks, preparing everything based on her own recipes. Her food became a sensation.

Located near several schools, the shop became a popular hangout for students. One of the shop’s most beloved quirks was how Nghia would tally bills aloud in a rhythmic, playful tone that sounded like rap. Students affectionately dubbed her “the rapping bà.”

Many customers even ordered extra dishes just to hear her deliver a longer “rap.”

Eventually, to save time and energy, she simplified the pricing to a flat rate of 15,000 VND per item.

An emotional farewell

“I’ve had the joy of serving students and young people for over 20 years,” Nghia shared. “But I’m getting older now and can no longer wake up early or stay up late to prepare the food.”

She plans to close the shop on the 25th day of the Lunar New Year calendar.

“I’ll miss it deeply. I’ve spent so many years with this shop, with these kids. Some customers came here as students and still return now with their own families. Even foreigners who visited once have come back with friends to show them the place.”

“When word got out that I would retire, some students begged me to stay open. I couldn’t help but cry like a child,” she added.

Memories on every table

Khuyen (20) and Thuy (23) discovered the eatery through social media and visited for the first time after hearing it would soon close. Drawn in by photos of the food and rave reviews about its taste and affordability, they decided to see it for themselves.

“The food is delicious, beautifully presented, and surprisingly generous for the price,” Khuyen said. “This is my first visit, and I haven’t even picked a favorite dish yet. But now it’s closing - I’m shocked and saddened.”

Meanwhile, Phong (born 2003) arrived with his pregnant wife in tow. He had first discovered the snack shop as a student and had frequently brought his then-girlfriend here for casual dates.

“This place holds so many memories for us,” Phong said. “After every meal, we looked forward to hearing bà Nghĩa ‘rap’ our total.”

Now married and expecting a child, the couple still visits the shop when they have time. The news of its closure hit them hard.

“This shop has been part of our love story. We’re really sad to see it go,” he said.

Farewell feast

Since the retirement announcement, the shop has seen a surge in visitors, with crowds several times larger than usual. By late afternoon, lines form as patrons squeeze into the small space.

To meet demand, Mrs. Nghia has had to hire three to four additional helpers. Still, she and her team can barely keep up with the flow of orders.

“I’m so touched by the love from students, young people, and other guests,” she said. “That is the greatest reward I’ve received after all these years running this little home kitchen.”