B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n kh\u00f4ng ch\u1ec9 l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t h\u1ecda s\u0129 v\u00e0 ki\u1ebfn tr\u00fac s\u01b0 v\u01b0\u1eddn ti\u00eau bi\u1ec3u c\u1ee7a Vi\u1ec7t Nam, m\u00e0 c\u00f2n l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t \u0111\u1ea7u b\u1ebfp t\u00e0i hoa. \u0110\u01b0\u1ee3c b\u00e0 \u0111\u00f3n ti\u1ebfp t\u1ea1i c\u1ed1 \u0111\u00f4 Hu\u1ebf l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t tr\u1ea3i nghi\u1ec7m v\u1eeba tinh t\u1ebf v\u1eeba kh\u00e1m ph\u00e1. Trong khu v\u01b0\u1eddn ri\u00eang v\u1edbi h\u1ed3 sen v\u00e0 ki\u1ebfn tr\u00fac g\u1ed7, m\u1ecdi th\u1ee9 \u0111\u1ec1u do ch\u00ednh tay b\u00e0 ki\u1ebfn t\u1ea1o. \u1ede \u0111\u00e2y, n\u1ea5u \u0103n kh\u00f4ng ch\u1ec9 l\u00e0 ngh\u1ec1; m\u00e0 l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t ph\u1ea7n c\u1ee7a \u0111\u1eddi s\u1ed1ng, b\u1eaft ngu\u1ed3n t\u1eeb truy\u1ec1n th\u1ed1ng tinh t\u1ebf c\u1ee7a Hu\u1ebf, \u0111\u01b0\u1ee3c d\u1eabn d\u1eaft b\u1edfi s\u1ef1 c\u00e2n b\u1eb1ng, chu\u1ea9n x\u00e1c v\u00e0 k\u00fd \u1ee9c. \u0110i\u1ec1u hi\u1ec7n ra kh\u00f4ng ch\u1ec9 l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t b\u1eefa \u0103n, m\u00e0 l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t s\u1ef1 h\u00e0i h\u00f2a t\u0129nh l\u1eb7ng; n\u01a1i ngh\u1ec7 thu\u1eadt, kh\u00f4ng gian v\u00e0 c\u1eed ch\u1ec9 h\u00f2a l\u00e0m m\u1ed9t.<\/p>\n\t
B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n kh\u00f4ng ch\u1ec9 l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t h\u1ecda s\u0129 v\u00e0 ki\u1ebfn tr\u00fac s\u01b0 v\u01b0\u1eddn n\u1ed5i ti\u1ebfng c\u1ee7a Vi\u1ec7t Nam, m\u00e0 c\u00f2n l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t \u0111\u1ea7u b\u1ebfp \u0111\u1ea7y t\u00e0i n\u0103ng. Ai \u0111\u01b0\u1ee3c ti\u1ebfp \u0111\u00e3i trong nh\u00e0 kh\u00e1ch c\u1ee7a b\u00e0 \u0111\u1ec1u h\u1ecdc \u0111\u01b0\u1ee3c nhi\u1ec1u \u0111i\u1ec1u v\u1ec1 cu\u1ed9c s\u1ed1ng. \u0110\u01b0\u1ee3c B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n \u0111\u00f3n ti\u1ebfp t\u1ea1i c\u1ed1 \u0111\u00f4 Hu\u1ebf l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t ni\u1ec1m vui v\u00e0 m\u1ed9t s\u1ef1 th\u01b0\u1edfng th\u1ee9c tr\u1ecdn v\u1eb9n.<\/p>\n
On the bridge over the river called the “River of Fragrances,” there is dense traffic. Rickshaw drivers, ancient trucks, buses, and countless mopeds, with which astonishing quantities of goods are transported. Many women are driven through the Vietnamese city of Hue sitting side-saddle, most with gloves, in high-collared jackets. Fair skin has always been the ideal of beauty in Vietnam, and this applies especially to Hue.<\/p>\n
Ng\u01b0\u1eddi ta n\u00f3i r\u1eb1ng c\u1ed1 \u0111\u00f4 x\u01b0a mang t\u00ednh b\u1ea3o th\u1ee7 r\u00f5 n\u00e9t. V\u00e0 c\u00f3 l\u1ebd kh\u00f4ng ph\u1ea3i ng\u1eabu nhi\u00ean khi \u0111\u00e2y l\u00e0 qu\u00ea h\u01b0\u01a1ng c\u1ee7a B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n, m\u1ed9t ng\u01b0\u1eddi ph\u1ee5 n\u1eef k\u1ebft h\u1ee3p gi\u1eefa hi\u1ec7n t\u1ea1i v\u00e0 truy\u1ec1n th\u1ed1ng, trong vai tr\u00f2 c\u1ee7a m\u1ed9t \u0111\u1ea7u b\u1ebfp, ngh\u1ec7 s\u0129 v\u00e0 ki\u1ebfn tr\u00fac s\u01b0. \u1ea8m th\u1ef1c Hu\u1ebf \u0111\u01b0\u1ee3c xem l\u00e0 tinh t\u1ebf nh\u1ea5t c\u1ea3 n\u01b0\u1edbc. Theo m\u1ed9t truy\u1ec1n thuy\u1ebft, c\u00e1c b\u1eadc v\u01b0\u01a1ng gi\u1ea3 x\u01b0a kh\u00f4ng bao gi\u1edd \u0103n m\u1ed9t m\u00f3n qu\u00e1 m\u1ed9t l\u1ea7n trong n\u0103m. V\u00ec v\u1eady, c\u00e1c \u0111\u1ea7u b\u1ebfp cung \u0111\u00ecnh lu\u00f4n k\u1ebft h\u1ee3p nguy\u00ean li\u1ec7u th\u00e0nh nh\u1eefng s\u00e1ng t\u1ea1o m\u1edbi, \u0111\u01b0\u1ee3c tr\u00ecnh b\u00e0y th\u00e0nh c\u00e1c ph\u1ea7n \u0103n nh\u1ecf tinh x\u1ea3o. Cho \u0111\u1ebfn h\u00f4m nay, v\u0103n h\u00f3a \u1ea9m th\u1ef1c n\u00e0y v\u1eabn l\u00e0 n\u00e9t \u0111\u1eb7c tr\u01b0ng c\u1ee7a \u0111\u1eddi s\u1ed1ng Hu\u1ebf, v\u00e0 B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t s\u1ee9 gi\u1ea3 c\u1ee7a n\u1ec1n v\u0103n h\u00f3a \u1ea5y.<\/p>\n
Above the city rises a hill, on which lies a garden that once bore the name “Royal Garden.” Behind high vine-covered walls and an imposing wooden gate, the artist has created here an enchanted world of lotus ponds, bamboo groves, and elaborate structures. A narrow path, lined with frangipani trees, meanders past an ancient wooden monastery to a staircase that leads up to a villa, on whose veranda Boi Tran herself receives us. Madame wears a silk ao dai, that traditional combination of wide-cut trousers and a tight, slit over-garment, which makes Vietnamese women appear extraordinarily elegant.<\/p>\n
Boi Tran knows how to stage perfectly, not least herself: everything one sees here, she has achieved by herself. The house she designed with her own hands, as well as the garden. The antique wooden buildings that adorn the garden she collected from other regions and had rebuilt here. “People said I was crazy. After all, I never learned to work as an architect. But I took a few craftsmen and simply began.” Today she supervises large garden projects; she also has a studio, and she runs her restaurant here, in which she preserves the culinary tradition of Hue. Without work, she says, she would become melancholic. Only later do we understand what she means.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The next morning at five, it is still dark, we get to know a completely different Boi Tran. The elegant lady of yesterday now trudges in trousers and rubber boots through the market, forcefully making her way through a tangle of muddy passages, lit by spotlights and neon lights, through which carts are pushed with loud calls, loaded with baskets full of shrimp, fruit, vegetables, or flowers. Slippery catfish, pickled bamboo shoots in large plastic tubs, frogs. And in the middle of it Boi Tran, bargaining and laughing, pressing an armful of flowers into her assistant’s hands, bags of vegetables or shrimp. Carefully she examines the fish and flips the gills with a bamboo stick. “The eyes must be clear and the gills still pink. Then they are fresh.”<\/p>\n
She is also selective with fruit and vegetables. Confidently she grabs a bunch of mint to smell it; a basket of strawberries does not meet her taste, the vendor must take it back. “Stored too long,” she judges after trying one, “no aroma anymore.” She recognizes the right ripeness of a mango by gentle thumb pressure. But before Boi Tran takes a whole basket, she has one fruit cut open. “A perfect orange,” she beams, “and no dark spots. At the cut surface a little juice must emerge, then they are sweet, but not overripe.”<\/p>\n
\u0110\u1ed1i v\u1edbi B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n, n\u1ea5u \u0103n kh\u00f4ng ch\u1ec9 l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t ngh\u1ec1, c\u0169ng kh\u00f4ng ch\u1ec9 l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t \u0111am m\u00ea. \u0110\u00f3 l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t ph\u1ea7n c\u1ee7a cu\u1ed9c s\u1ed1ng, v\u00e0 \u0111\u1ed3ng th\u1eddi l\u00e0 c\u00e1ch b\u00e0 \u0111\u1ed1i di\u1ec7n v\u1edbi cu\u1ed9c s\u1ed1ng.<\/p>\n
As a young woman she experienced the nearly 20-year Vietnam War, which ended in 1975. At that time she, daughter of a once wealthy, court-related family from the South, stood with nothing, after communist North Vietnam had defeated South Vietnam. “I know what it feels like to be hungry. I know what it feels like to be hungry. I know what poverty and death mean. These are not mere ideas for me, I feel that deep inside. After the war I weighed only 38 kilos and had nothing to eat.”<\/p>\n
Boi Tran does not like to talk about this time. When asked how she managed to free herself from poverty, she only answers: “I always cooked. Food was my passion. Because we had nothing during the war.” Behind these sparse sentences lies a remarkable biography. A woman who builds her own existence, is very successful, even divorces, as Boi Tran did, is unusual in Vietnam. “My life,” says Boi Tran, “was somewhat difficult, to put it mildly.”<\/p>\n
Some years ago came the worst blow of fate. Her grown son drowned after saving several children from a river accident. She has erected a shrine for him. Large floor vases with yellow chrysanthemums frame a kind of altar with family photos. “Vietnamese women are very tough, but one must always look behind the smile,” says Boi Tran.<\/p>\n
Her garden is like this smile. A miracle of colors and scents; here also grow the spices she uses for her wonderful cuisine: coriander, pepper, lemongrass, kaffir lime. Right behind the beds stands Boi Tran’s studio. As the only student of the painter Nguy\u1ec5n Trung, she has also developed her own style in art. Sometimes she works 15 hours, during which she forgets everything around her. This meditative aspect is one way she copes with grief; another lies in the motifs: again and again one finds female figures holding two children by the hand.<\/p>\n
Boi Tran also has a daughter. She lives in the USA, where she has started her own family. “I often spend a few months in the USA, and every time I return, I miss my daughter and my little granddaughter. But I still have much to do here.” Thirty employees work for Boi Tran; she is responsible for them as well. For most women in Vietnam, family is the most important, and food plays a significant role in living together. And because her family lives abroad, Boi Tran cooks with the same love for her guests. “For me, cooking is not work, but pure pleasure,” she says, while spreading fine nets of rice paper in which she skillfully wraps the ingredients for her tiny spring rolls.<\/p>\n
Ch\u1ea3 gi\u00f2 g\u1ea7n nh\u01b0 l\u00e0 m\u00f3n \u0103n qu\u1ed1c gia c\u1ee7a Vi\u1ec7t Nam, c\u00f3 th\u1ec3 \u0103n s\u1ed1ng, \u00e1p ch\u1ea3o ho\u1eb7c chi\u00ean. Ph\u1ea7n nh\u00e2n thay \u0111\u1ed5i theo v\u00f9ng mi\u1ec1n v\u00e0 m\u00f9a. Ch\u00fang \u0111\u01b0\u1ee3c chi\u00ean nhanh \u1edf nhi\u1ec7t \u0111\u1ed9 cao, \u0111\u1ec3 b\u00ean ngo\u00e0i gi\u00f2n, b\u00ean trong ch\u00edn nh\u1eb9, gi\u1eef \u0111\u01b0\u1ee3c h\u01b0\u01a1ng th\u01a1m c\u1ee7a c\u00e1c lo\u1ea1i rau.<\/p>\n
“Vietnamese cuisine is actually quite simple,” explains Boi Tran. “In Hue we also have a French influence from colonial times. Sometimes I even use cheese, which does not really exist in Asian cuisine, to refine sauces. I mix my family’s traditional recipes with my own ideas.”<\/p>\n
That she loves to experiment can be seen when she seasons sauces. Here something is removed, there something added, it is as if she were painting a picture. Many herbs are added only after cooking. “Then they do not become mushy or bitter and retain their aroma,” she explains, while flattening a stalk of lemongrass with a cleaver. Everything appears simple: confident, flowing movements, graceful like a dance. A few gestures to combine the ingredients, then she carefully places the two shrimps into the soup and says softly: “Please try.”<\/p>\n
We sit on the veranda while eating. We taste contrasts and harmony, everything is different, everything belongs together. We hear crickets chirping and frogs croaking in the lotus pond, the full moon casts long shadows, and for a moment it seems to us as if Boi Tran’s world were a puzzle whose final piece we have just found.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
B\u1ed9i Tr\u00e2n kh\u00f4ng ch\u1ec9 l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t h\u1ecda s\u0129 v\u00e0 ki\u1ebfn tr\u00fac s\u01b0 v\u01b0\u1eddn ti\u00eau bi\u1ec3u c\u1ee7a Vi\u1ec7t Nam, m\u00e0 c\u00f2n l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t \u0111\u1ea7u b\u1ebfp t\u00e0i hoa. \u0110\u01b0\u1ee3c b\u00e0 \u0111\u00f3n ti\u1ebfp t\u1ea1i c\u1ed1 \u0111\u00f4 Hu\u1ebf l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t tr\u1ea3i nghi\u1ec7m v\u1eeba tinh t\u1ebf v\u1eeba kh\u00e1m ph\u00e1. Trong khu v\u01b0\u1eddn ri\u00eang v\u1edbi h\u1ed3 sen v\u00e0 ki\u1ebfn tr\u00fac g\u1ed7, m\u1ecdi th\u1ee9 \u0111\u1ec1u do ch\u00ednh tay b\u00e0 ki\u1ebfn t\u1ea1o. \u1ede \u0111\u00e2y, n\u1ea5u \u0103n kh\u00f4ng ch\u1ec9 l\u00e0 ngh\u1ec1; m\u00e0 l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t ph\u1ea7n c\u1ee7a \u0111\u1eddi s\u1ed1ng, b\u1eaft ngu\u1ed3n t\u1eeb truy\u1ec1n th\u1ed1ng tinh t\u1ebf c\u1ee7a Hu\u1ebf, \u0111\u01b0\u1ee3c d\u1eabn d\u1eaft b\u1edfi s\u1ef1 c\u00e2n b\u1eb1ng, chu\u1ea9n x\u00e1c v\u00e0 k\u00fd \u1ee9c. \u0110i\u1ec1u hi\u1ec7n ra kh\u00f4ng ch\u1ec9 l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t b\u1eefa \u0103n, m\u00e0 l\u00e0 m\u1ed9t s\u1ef1 h\u00e0i h\u00f2a t\u0129nh l\u1eb7ng; n\u01a1i ngh\u1ec7 thu\u1eadt, kh\u00f4ng gian v\u00e0 c\u1eed ch\u1ec9 h\u00f2a l\u00e0m m\u1ed9t.<\/p>","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":7033,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[24,23,22,26,9],"tags":[90,91,17],"class_list":["post-7034","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-architecture","category-art","category-cuisine","category-interview","category-stories","tag-boi-tran","tag-boi-tran-art-gallery","tag-boi-tran-garden"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7034","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7034"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7034\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8113,"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7034\/revisions\/8113"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/7033"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7034"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7034"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/boitran.com\/vi\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7034"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}