To truly understand the landscape of Chinese cuisine in Vietnam, one must recognize the two dominant waves that have historically shaped it.
The first is deeply ancestral: the legacy of Vietnamese-Chinese families who have passed down recipes for generations in the old enclaves of Districts 6, 8, and 11. Here, regional Chinese dishes have been gently adapted to the Vietnamese palate, offering modest portions and familiar, comforting flavor profiles.
The second wave is a more recent influx directly from mainland China, ranging from humble, fiery eateries in Khánh Hội to massive, bustling hotpot and barbecue chains like Haidilao and Manwah. This second wave is unyielding in its authenticity, demanding vast arrays of imported spices, complex preparations, and massive portions meant for communal feasting.
But recently, the culinary canvas of Ho Chi Minh City has grown infinitely more exciting with the emergence of a third wave: the modern Chinese bistro. This movement takes traditional Chinese elements and reinterprets them through a contemporary, professional, and highly creative dining lens. While names like Anais Ca Dao van Manen’s Yeshi and Chris Huynh’s Baozi are already familiar darlings to Saigon’s discerning foodies, there is a new contender that demands immediate attention. Enter Fortune Ivy, the brilliant brainchild of Chef Mendy Hu.
Stepping into Fortune Ivy on a bustling Friday evening is an experience in itself. Nestled near the border of District 1 and Binh Thanh, the restaurant occupies a uniquely repurposed space that once served as a local hair salon. Today, it has been transformed into a funky, slightly grungy yet effortlessly cozy Chinese snack bar and cocktail spot. The room is alive, vibrating with the low, steady thrum of curated hip-hop beats, bathed in lighting that somehow feels reminiscent of a romantic, hidden Parisian bistro. The crowd is a dynamic mix of expats and Saigon’s edgy, creative youth, all packed into a space that feels like the city’s best-kept secret.
For my inaugural visit, I opted for a few seemingly simple items: the Chinese Cucumber Salad, the Hot Honey Beef Tartare, and the Sichuan Dàn Dàn Mian. I was instantly captivated.
In my years of exploring Chinese cuisine, the cucumber salad has always been my ultimate litmus test. If a kitchen fumbles this foundational dish, you might as well ask for the check. If it is decent, the journey ahead is usually worth taking. Fortune Ivy’s iteration did pass the test. It was exceptionally crisp and vibrating with freshness. Unlike traditional versions that can easily become drowned in aggressive chili oil or overpowering black vinegar, Chef Mendy’s version is a masterclass in harmony. It was the most perfect, promising opening act I could have asked for.
What followed was nothing short of a revelation. The Hot Honey Beef Tartare was an absolute triumph. The beef itself was handled with profound respect, tender yet retaining a satisfying, gentle chew. The inclusion of Sichuan pickled radish provided a brilliant textural contrast, cutting through the richness of the meat. But the true stroke of genius was the coriander espuma (foam). It elevated the entire plate, enveloping the tartare in a herbaceous, fragrant, and shockingly refreshing cloud. Accompanying this masterpiece was a potato sesame cracker. This cracker was so flawlessly executed—earthy, nutty, and crisp—that I found myself wishing the restaurant sold it by the bag. It is a snack that could easily stand alone on a shelf, yet it was humble enough to let the tartare shine when they were paired together.
To round out that first night, I had the Sichuan Dàn Dàn Mian with braised seitan and king oyster mushrooms. The hand-cut noodles possessed that coveted, bouncy chewiness, slick with a chili oil that was intoxicatingly fragrant rather than aggressively punishing. The spice level was a slow, stimulating burn, perfectly balanced by the rich, roasted aroma of peanuts and the meaty umami of the seitan and mushrooms.
That first dinner was an indelible hook, prompting me to return several times to systematically conquer the rest of the menu. And while the online consensus rightly raves about their signature hand-pulled Biang Biang noodles and the impossibly tender lamb skewers, two other dishes completely stole my heart.
First was the Marinated Okra. Okra is a notoriously difficult vegetable, often plagued by a slimy texture that deters many diners. Fortune Ivy treats it with a magical touch, serving it delightfully crunchy and vibrant. Bathed in a soy vinaigrette and a pungent garlic chili confit, it delivers that quintessential Chinese sour-spicy kick. But the dish is elevated into fine-dining territory by its garnish: crispy leeks sliced as thin as human hair. They provide the deeply satisfying, aromatic depth of traditional fried shallots, but their gossamer thinness ensures they never leave you feeling heavy or greased. It is a stunning visual and textural achievement.
Then came the Seabass Ceviche, a dish that, judging by the murmurs in the dining room and the glowing online reviews, is universally beloved. The seabass was impeccably fresh, but the true wizardry lay in the broth: a concoction of cucumber and green chili coconut milk. One might assume that coconut milk would weigh down a delicate raw fish dish, but Chef Mendy manipulates it to do the exact opposite. The coconut milk acts as a silky, cooling canvas that actually accentuates the freshness of the fish. It is a brilliant, inventive interpretation of a fundamentally Vietnamese ingredient, seamlessly woven into a modern Asian fusion narrative.
As I sat there sipping a craft cocktail, soaking in the immaculate vibes and the punchy flavors, I couldn’t help but reflect on Fortune Ivy’s journey. Originating as a series of highly successful, fleeting pop-ups before finding its permanent brick-and-mortar home, the restaurant carries a spirit of evolution. Chef Mendy Hu and her team clearly possess a restless, creative energy, which means the menu is a living, breathing entity.
Because I only discovered this gem a few months ago, I find myself deeply curious about the ghosts of menus past. While the current offerings are spectacular, I am holding out hope for the return of a few legendary early creations I’ve only read about. Top of my wish list is the visually stunning Summer Hamachi—a vibrant plate of lemongrass-cured yellowtail paired with Sichuan pickled radish, burnt mandarin, and a sharp passionfruit & starfruit vinaigrette. And right alongside it, the tantalizing wok-fired clams with glass noodles, lime leaf, black beans, and garlic, finished with Cure and Pickle’s artisan ’nduja crumble.
Fortune Ivy is such a cultural moment in Saigon’s dining scene. It respects the deep, complex roots of Chinese gastronomy while fearlessly dragging it into a funky, neon-lit, hip-hop-infused future. Whether you are coming for the meticulous hand-pulled noodles, the mind-bending tartare, or just a cocktail in the city’s coolest new hideout, Fortune Ivy is a reservation you need to make immediately.