Fresh Ingredients Define the Casual Vietnamese Cuisine at Vui’s Kitchen
Fresh Ingredients Define the Casual Vietnamese Cuisine at Vui’s Kitchen

Rice bowl with lemongrass chicken

No matter how many new restaurants have opened in Nashville over the past few years, we still remain underserved when it comes to quick, healthy food in a pleasant, casual environment. So it’s good news that Vui and John Hunt, the Nashville couple who founded the Juice Bar franchise, have targeted the healthy fast-casual niche with their new restaurant, Vui’s Kitchen.

Inspired by the cuisine Vui grew up with in her native Vietnam, the Hunts have taken great pains to develop a menu that uses fresh, whole ingredients while avoiding the processed foods and additives that a typical quick-serve joint relies on. It feels like an incredible treat to tuck into a rice or noodle bowl stuffed with more fresh greens and veggies than some time- and cash-strapped Americans might get in a week.

As with Juice Bar, the couple partnered with the ever-burgeoning Fresh Hospitality restaurant group (Taziki’s, Martin’s Bar-B-Que and more) to launch Vui’s Kitchen, and the team has taken over a spot on a well-trafficked corner of Bransford Avenue in Berry Hill. Like many businesses in the neighborhood, it fills a little 20th century house converted to retail purposes — the site previously held the Curious Heart Emporium, and the house next door is one of the Juice Bar locations.

The Vui’s Kitchen redesign is charming — the interior color scheme consists of walls painted black or white with the occasional flourish of spring green, and the dining room features clean blond-wood floors and chunky tables in a darker wood.

The seating is pretty cozy, and the room fills up quickly, but there are two small patios, front and back, to further accommodate diners. And a little over two months after Vui’s opened, it’s already a very popular destination.

What draws folks in is Vui Hunt’s skillful, sophisticated yet accessible take on Vietnamese food. As previously mentioned, the menu emphasizes the veggies, but meat is also a harmonious part of the cuisine. On a couple recent visits I heartily enjoyed everything I tried.

Perhaps the most famous dish in all of Vietnamese cooking, the noodle soup known as pho, is offered in the traditional beef-accented form, along with a more novel vegan version. The former starts with Vui’s bone broth, a light but satisfying liquid made from beef, chicken and vegetables that are simmered for 12 hours. Perfectly cooked rice noodles — tender, not mushy — provide the filling heart of the soup, with scallions, fresh bean sprouts, Thai basil, jalapeños and thin slices of high-quality beef, all bobbing in the broth, with a spritz of lime for balance. The vegan version is, if anything, more savory, with mushrooms and tofu taking the place of meat, joining the same bright-green herbs and vegetables buoyed by a rich vegetable-based broth.

Another Vietnamese classic, the banh mi sandwich, shows up in an equally meticulous preparation. A roll is spread with a judicious amount of pâté — made in house — plus house mayo, then the bread is stuffed with all manner of veggies, including cucumber spears, julienned carrots, pickled daikon and fresh jalapeño slices. You get to pick your own protein: lemongrass chicken, lemongrass beef or the most decadent option, lemongrass pork belly. Vegetarians get the option of lemongrass tofu or fried eggs.

It’s a terrific sandwich in all versions. My favorite is the chicken, which is shockingly moist (and let’s face it, most chicken sandwiches out there are dry). My dining companions loved the pork belly, but I have to confess to being no fan of pork belly in general. While I enjoy pork, the belly is a little bit fatty for me — even though I understand that the fat is the whole point of it. But Vui’s version could almost convert me, given the way the fatty edges of the pork are so winningly caramelized. I’ll stick with the chicken, but I definitely understand all the rhapsodizing over the other.

The only area of underperformance in the banh mi was the sandwich roll, which is described on the menu as a New Orleans-style baguette, but seemed a little soft to me. Nonetheless, it made for an excellent delivery system for a really socko sandwich.

The aforementioned lemongrass beef, chicken or pork belly appear again as toppings for either the rice bowl or noodle bowl, along with the parallel vegetarian options of lemongrass tofu or fried egg. This time you also get a seafood choice: five-spice shrimp.

I’m partial to the rice bowl, which starts with a helping of jasmine brown rice (could we get any healthier here?), topped with a multitude of veggies and fresh herbs and drizzled with scallion oil. What makes it all come together — and pushes the bowl over the top into blissfulness — is Vui’s house-made fish sauce dressing, which balances bright rice vinegar, a hint of fermented fish for depth, and a touch of sweetness.

Any finicky folks can be assured that the fish sauce doesn’t taste the slightest bit fishy, but diners who are tender of tongue should be advised that some of the entrées can be a little bit spicy, thanks to the fresh jalapeño — though I’m sure the heat can be adjusted upon request.

But just as Nashville’s hot-chicken burn is traditionally soothed by a carton of Purity lemonade, the spicy foods at Vui’s possess a helpful complement in the beverage menu. Fresh sugar-cane juice with a squirt of lime is one cure, along with one of my all-time favorite beverages, Vietnamese iced coffee. It’s delivered to your table with a delightful single-serving drip apparatus. The coffee slowly brews over a thin layer of sweetened condensed milk that’s at the bottom of a glass. When the dripping stops, you energetically stir up the coffee with a spoon and pour it over a second glass filled with ice. It’s a genius setup and produces iced coffee that is powerfully strong but moderated with just the right amount of sweetness and milk.

Vui’s also offers a selection of wine and craft beer (the latter of which is is an internationally known coolant of a heated palate), so I’d advocate lining up your beverages before you start eating.

As is typical for a quick-casual joint, you place your order at the counter, take a number to your table and wait for your food to be brought to you. On my visits, service was swift (but not brusque) and very friendly.

When your meal is over (whether it’s lunch or dinner; Vui’s is open 11 a.m. to 9 p.m. Monday through Saturday), you’ll likely leave feeling pleasantly nourished and satisfied but not stuffed to fast-food discomfort levels.

The only dilemma I face is how soon I can go back to Vui’s and whether I can get to Berry Hill and back on my next lunch break. Here’s hoping that as with their previous venture, the Hunts decide to try to replicate the success of Vui’s Kitchen with more locations, and that their magic formula of fresh ingredients stays strong.

Email arts@nashvillescene.com

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