Morning Glory: Hoi An's Famous Restaurant Lives Up to Hype
Walking non-stop in the hot weather quickly left me exhausted. I desperately needed to recover my energy, so I suggested we grab lunch. My travel companion told me there was a must-visit restaurant in Hoi An and led the way. That must-visit spot was Morning Glory. Walking down the street, it seems pretty tough to run a restaurant in Hoi An. The entrances all look so similar that you have to actually go inside to tell if it's a high-end place or just fast food. Morning Glory's sign was barely visible, and there was no one outside trying to usher customers in, making it a bit hard to find. We found it quickly thanks to Google Maps, but if your phone battery is dead, I highly recommend asking people around you. It's a famous spot, so everyone knows it well.
Stepping inside, the interior and the open kitchen immediately give off the vibe of a place that really knows how to cook. Different chefs might have different opinions on open kitchens, but for me, it builds an expectation of guaranteed hygiene and taste. Most shops in Hoi An have these lanterns hanging from the ceiling one by one, and they have this charm that makes any space feel soft and calming. Morning Glory's interior takes the white noise—the loud air conditioners and fans, the busy staff rushing to take orders and serve food—and softens it beautifully. I think it's all thanks to those Hoi An-style lanterns.
Every region seems to have one of these all-purpose interior staples. The ones that come to mind right now are the Japanese sliding doors I saw in Nagoya and the Hindu stone statues in Bali. No matter what the rest of the inside looks like, having that door or statue brings out the unique character of the region and somehow provides a sense of stability. That said, you probably shouldn't just throw everything together. I imagined it for a second: a Japanese sliding door, a Shiva statue, and Hoi An lanterns on the ceiling. It would probably just feel cluttered, like you'd walked into a storage warehouse.
Honestly, my physical condition was way more important than the interior. So I told my companion to just order whatever and quickly asked for a Larue beer. I think Athens was just as hot, but strangely, whenever I come to Southeast Asia, I can never get my condition right on the first day. It happened in Bali, and it happened in Cebu. I'm pretty sure Southern Europe was actually hotter. In my case, I think my body just needs some time to adapt. When I was a kid, I loved the 007 series so much that I idolized James Bond and wanted to be a spy. But if I had been sent on a mission to Southeast Asia, I would have been caught 100% on the very first day.
My soul had practically left my body, so the photos came out looking pretty unappetizing. But unlike my ruined photos, the food here—made by professionals—actually tasted good. It was perfectly edible even for a guy who is sensitive to spices. The noodles, in particular, were just right—the aroma and broth weren't too strong or too weak. As expected from a country famous for its noodles, it feels like the entire population knows exactly how to make a good noodle dish. The fried wontons topped with crab meat were perfect as an appetizer, but the White Rose dumplings were the worst dumplings I've had recently. I thought the dumpling wrapper felt like a jellyfish. When I think of dumplings, I always think of Din Tai Fung, so maybe they just fell short because I was comparing the taste to that.
We ordered three dishes: two were good and one was bad, so I'm very satisfied. The friend I'm traveling with enjoys cooking at home but has a "blessed tongue" that happily eats whatever is served, so I was a little worried walking in. It was our first meal, and I was on the verge of complete exhaustion, so we really needed to eat well. I wondered if the food would suit my taste, but after spending an absurd amount of time Googling, my companion succeeded.
But why isn't my energy recovering?