One such place we ate at and the overall winner in Vietnam (judged on our criteria of taste, quality, ambience and authenticity) was in Prao. In the main street of this small town high in the Central Highlands is Ngyuen Thi Bon’s restaurant. Sitting under the front porch of her house is where Ms Bon has been cooking Bahn Xeo (crispy pancakes) for 15 years. Behind four paint-can sized concrete coal burners her cook fries a mixture of ground soaked rice and turmeric with shrimp, pork and bean shoots until it is deliciously crispy. Ms Bon then arrives at the shrunken table to slap down a plate of these pancakes alongside some rice paper, salad and nuoc cham (fish sauce, chilli and garlic dipping sauce). On top of the rice paper you place one of these pancakes, then fill with salad, roll, dip, eat and cry with joy. When the plate is getting near empty more pancakes are slapped on top and you keep going until you are going to explode. Then, you have one more... and... maybe another one.

Another dish I can still taste so vividly was grilled beef and goat udders. Stumbling across a packed restaurant in Hanoi one night, we could not walk past the small tables on which each sat a char-grill and a plate of raw meat, onions and tomatoes. After sitting down we were immediately only given the marinated beef but after a little convincing the marinated goat udders arrived. I felt so embarrassed that after years of cooking my skills seamed to pale in comparison to the 18 year old kids around us who worked their char-grills like master tepanyaki chefs. First you place tomatoes and onions on the grill with heaps of oil then to this you add pieces of the meat and bits of broken baguette. When the meat is cooked you dip it into the most simple and delicious dipping sauce I have ever eaten then, when the bread has soaked up all the oil and juice from the tomatoes and onions, you eat that too. The Vietnamese call this dish ‘dangerous food’ as the meat tends to spit and you will cop a few splashes of oil but do not be deterred as this was the best late night snack I have eaten.

The dipping sauce I so fell in love with came not only with the beef and goat but also about 30 other dishes along the way. Muoi tieu chanh is honestly the most brilliantly simple sauce I have ever eaten and is served with everything from poached chicken and BBQ seafood to rice paper rolls or salads. Much more common than the famous nuoc cham (sweet chilli fish sauce and lime dressing) the sauce is just a small ramekin with a dry mixture of salt and pepper onto which you squeeze the juice of an Asian lime, or cumquat as we know them. It is so, so, so good. It is so good that had this been the only thing we learnt on the whole trip it would still have been worth it. Next time there is a cold chicken in your fridge, make up a little muoi tieu chanh, dip the chicken in and drink beer. You will know what I mean.

Vietnamese food is based a lot on fusion with one of the many other cultures that have resided here over time. The greatest influence would have to be from the Chinese and the French, but the Lebanese and Indians have also left a noticeable mark. The French influence is so important that without it, the most famous of all Vietnamese dishes would not exist. Phois basically a great big bowl of stock made from beef brisket, beef bones and whole chickens poured over thinly sliced beef, thin flat rice noodles, herbs and beansprouts. This is a bit of a condensation of the truth as pho can be duck, chicken, pork, stewed beef, tripes or tendons among many others. But it was the French who taught the Vietnamese to make stocks, which they simply poured over their dry noodle dishes. Although pho is probably the most famous Vietnamese dish it is by no means the most common noodle dish. Bun noodles, or round rice noodles are just as common and I found the dishes such as bun noodles with pork leg or dry bun noodles with braised beef and dill better than pho.

Pho is not the only remnant of time the French spent in Vietnam. As the last frog donned his stripy shirt and beret, then rode out of Vietnam, a baguette must have fallen off from the back of his bicycle. If you’re overloaded on rice and noodles, a light crunchy style baguette sparsely filled with pork pate, pork meatloaf, coriander, chilli, fish sauce and a combination of fresh salads or pickled veg is a refreshing alternative.The bread here is lighter and less filling then traditional French bread but this really suits the climate. These baguettes are found a stone’s throw from everywhere and I quickly became addicted.

It was in Danang we found an amazing restaurant where we ate the most beautiful grilled whole prawns. The prawns in Asia are so much better than Australia as they’re usually sold live rather than the unavoidably frozen ones we get. To eat, first you dip the skewered grilled prawns into muoi tieu chanh then into mayonnaise. The smoky red iodine flavour that only comes with char grilling crustacean shells combines with the bisque flavoured mustard inside and is balanced with the tartness of the lime, the heat of pepper and the length given from the salt. All this is softened with the rich creamy mayonnaise. There was so much harmony it was like eating Bohemian Rhapsody. Rachel knows when I think something is amazing or just average as when I fall in love it is always at first bite. I fell in love with a prawn in Danang.

I cannot say with absolute certainty, as so often in the excitement of learning new things I forget the past. And the Malaysia food we were eating 150 meals ago is so dear to me but Vietnam seems to have imprinted a few dishes in a way I have not experienced since I was first learning to cook. Leaving Vietnam we walk away with not only many new dishes in our little black books but an invigorated outlook on where, when, how and what you need to cook. One of the last things we saw on TV before we left was about how a local council in Australia is fining people for having dogs in outdoor dining areas of restaurants. It made me laugh.