Last updated: March 7, 2022

International Eats

Lang Van, perhaps the best-known Vietnamese restaurant in Charlotte, has become such a culinary landmark in the city, it’s hard to ever imagine it going out of business. Yet, that’s what nearly happened in the early months of the pandemic in 2020. Dan Nguyen, the owner of Lang Van since 2009, put out desperate calls to the community for financial help, and her calls were answered. A GoFundMe raised more than $60,000 to help keep the restaurant going as the city, like the entire country, reconfigured how it enjoyed its favorite restaurants. 

I have a lot of memories tied up in Lang Van’s faux-bamboo-flanked dining room and the fragrant styrofoam boxes I have whisked home through the years. Lang Van was a favorite lunch spot of my mom’s when she was a social worker for the county. It wasn’t our family’s favorite Vietnamese restaurant — that honor went to Taste of Asia on Monroe Road — but it was an acknowledged icon, like a venerated grandparent. Much of the veneration comes from the endless hard work of the owner. Other Vietnamese restaurants in Charlotte might have better food, but they don’t have Dan Nguyen. 

Lang Van’s pho is well above average, and pho does wonders for you on a cold day — though I’ve seen countless Vietnamese, braver than myself, crouched together on sidewalks in Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City slurping down big bowls of the steaming soup in temperatures and humidity levels approaching 100. In its simplest form, pho consists of rice noodles bathed in clean, well-seasoned beef broth. Lang Van has eleven types of pho and their best is number 35, pho chin, nam, gan, sach. Generous cuts of flank steak, beef tendons, and beef tripe go well with the beefy, aromatic flavor of the broth. 

To lighten things up a bit, generous handfuls of Thai basil, bean sprouts, jalapeños, and green onions accompany every order as garnishes. I would also recommend a few lashes of hoisin and sriracha to help elevate the flavors even more.  The broth is what makes the dish so memorable; the flavors of the beef bones, cuff of flank steak, star anise, coriander seeds, ginger, and Saigon cinnamon come together to create a distinct flavor that is equal parts sweet and savory.

Pho, like a lot of Asian dishes in recent years, had its moment as the “it” dish on social media before Instagrammers and food influencers moved on to their next prey, ramen. Though its popularity may wax and wane with the fickleness of our social media-obsessed times, it’s bountiful flavors and comforting warmth will never go out of style. 

The bun, or cold vermicelli noodles, at Lang Van will do fine in a pinch but are far from the best in the city. What really stands out on the menu are the pineapple fried rice, and two appetizers that most likely draw little attention from your average diner: chim cut (crispy quail) and banh xeo (Vietnamese crêpes). Traditionally marinated in soy sauce, oyster sauce, shallots, and garlic, these birds are smaller yet more tender than their chicken cousins and the dish is served atop a bed of lettuce with lemon wedge and nothing else, a testament to the skills of the Lang Van kitchen. Banh xeo is a crêpe made from rice flour and turmeric, which gives it a yellow glow. It’s stuffed with shrimp, sliced pork, and bean sprouts and served with mint leaves, cilantro, and lettuce to aid in the creation of lettuce wraps. Its simple yet effective range of flavors and textures are good for people new to Vietnamese cuisine and a great way to start out your meal at Lang Van. The pineapple fried rice is a safe dish for sure that makes up for its ubiquity with a charming and fun presentation. It comes served in the hollowed out half of a ripe pineapple, a more effective and memorable presentation than any Jackson Pollock sauce smear could achieve. 

As far as beverages go, the ca phe sua da & nong, or French coffee with sweetened, condensed milk, is a satisfying and invigorating way to end a meal. You can ask for Vietnamese beer but they are more than likely out, at least that’s always been the case for me. It could just be that when they see me coming they quickly hurry to dump their Hue, 333, Bia Saigon, and Bia Hanoi down the drain Prohibition-style, or simply reserve it for more deserving customers. I have to settle for Lucky Buddha beer, a Chinese knockoff of Budweiser whose mediocrity is saved by the jolly, fat Buddha-shaped bottle. 

Lang Van’s owner, Dan Nguyen,  is what really keeps regulars coming back. With her near encyclopedic knowledge of the 139 dishes on offer, and the memory of a Scotsman holding a grudge, Nguyen makes her rounds from table to table saying hello, catching up with patrons, and grabbing babies to go show off to the kitchen staff. I’m serious, bring a baby to Lang Van and I can guarantee the child will be carried into the kitchen like the latest reincarnation of the Dalai Lama — that is if your baby is cute, of course. Dan Nguyen is really what I admire most in a restaurant owner: a hardworking, down to earth, and humble practitioner of good old fashioned hospitality. Lang Van is a great example of entry-level capitalism, the ability of a striving immigrant to gain a toehold in a new country. And Dan Nguyen and the entire staff at Lang Van are holding on to that toehold everyday with the help of hungry people like you. If you find upon your next visit to Lang Van that you can’t remember what you usually order, don’t worry — Dan Nguyen will remember it for you.