As the Lunar New Year of Binh Ngo 2026 approaches, the small village of Quang Chau in Da Nang’s Hoa Xuan Ward is once again alight with activity. From as early as 2 a.m., the village’s traditional sesame cracker ovens glow red, heating up for the busiest season of the year.

A centuries-old craft passed down through generations, the making of banh kho me - literally "dry sesame crackers" - is a source of both pride and livelihood for this coastal village. Known affectionately as the "seven-fire" cracker, the treat is beloved for its crisp texture, mellow sweetness, and rich aroma of toasted sesame.

Throughout Quang Chau, the hum of pre-dawn labor fills the air. Smoke curls from the ovens, and the scent of baked rice flour and caramelized sugar marks the arrival of Tet season.

No one in the village remembers exactly when the craft began. According to the village elders, the tradition is simply something that "has always been there" - woven into the fabric of local life, celebrated every new year with the same quiet reverence.

During Tet, banh kho me is more than a snack. It’s a staple on ancestral altars, a symbol of abundance, and a deeply personal gift - sent across the country and around the world as a token of home.

For Quang Chau residents, this is the busiest, and most important, time of year. The Tet season brings not only festive joy but also the main source of income for families who have kept the craft alive. Today, only around five households continue the tradition.

The process is painstaking and entirely manual. To make the ideal cracker - crispy yet tender, nutty yet light - requires an intricate choreography of steps, and above all, experience.

It begins with rice - specifically a variety known locally as "gao 13/2" or "gao xiec." Only this rice delivers the texture required for the cracker’s signature crunch. The grains are thoroughly washed, ground into fine flour, then sifted into square molds lined with coarse cloth. A thin bamboo stick helps shape each cracker’s surface.

Next comes steaming - each cracker is steamed over boiling water for about five minutes. Then begins the signature “seven fires”: the cracker is grilled over live coal, repeatedly and carefully, as the baker adjusts the heat from high to low. This crucial phase ensures the cracker’s golden crispness without burning.

After the grill comes the dressing. Sugar is simmered to create a sticky glaze. The crackers are dipped, then rolled in toasted sesame, giving them their distinctive look and rich flavor. Every stage requires patience, precision, and years of practice.

At the workshop of Nguyen Thi Nghi - one of the few remaining artisans with over 40 years in the trade - the Tet rush is in full swing. Ten workers take shifts from 2 a.m. until the early afternoon, all to meet seasonal demand.

“To get a proper sesame cracker, you have to go through seven rounds of fire,” Nghi says. “Each one matters. From now until Tet, our oven burns nonstop.”

Each Tet season, her family goes through roughly one ton of rice.

“Back then, these crackers were made just for worship during Tet,” she adds. “Now, people order them to give as gifts or bring them overseas. From Da Nang to Hanoi, Saigon to Quang Ngai - even abroad. They carry a bit of home for those far away.”

Still, Nghi admits the future of the craft is uncertain. It's grueling work. Younger generations are reluctant to take it on, drawn instead to urban jobs and modern convenience.

“It’s hard to keep going,” she says. “But we do what we can - so that future generations can still taste a Tet that feels like the past.”

“For us, making these crackers isn’t just a way to make a living. It’s a way to hold onto Tet. To keep the memory of home alive in every bite.”

Ho Giap