The Start Of A Delicious Daily Ritual

Prompt from “pridemonthprompts” 2025 list.

The first half of my first day at university had gone pretty well. Introductions, inductions, and a tour around campus. The second-year I’d been “buddied” with, Frazer, seemed nice. Though the stream of trivia and stories he spouted about everything we walked past was getting overwhelming.
Hoping to move the topic to something useful, I asked “So, where do you recommend we stop for lunch?”
“Oh boy! There’s only one option, especially if you’re new to town - Notsisters!”
“Not… sisters?”
“Yeah, they do the best grub. And it’s all, like, ‘street food’, so easy to grab and go.” With that he was off, me trailing behind.
Sure, it was a weird name for a restaurant, but whatever. I’m fortunate enough not to have allergies or any other dietary limits, so I was up for trying something new and weird.
By the time we stepped off campus and onto the street, I was hoping those smells stroking my nose were coming from this “Not Sisters” place. Sure enough Frazer headed straight for the food truck with a sizeable queue.
Scanning across the menu, at first I felt lost - then I recognised “pho”. While none of the food on offer even remotely resembled the instant pho I’d had, it felt like a good starting point.
“You gotta try the nem ran!” Frazer informed me. “They’re different every day, but always amazing. Let’s see…” He stretched up on tiptoes to peer over the people in front. “Specials says today’s nem ran are crab.”
“Sure.”
By the time we shuffled to the front the delicious smells had me ready to try one of everything, but I stuck to my plan of ordering pho - and got hit with “chicken or beef?”. I guess I should have actually read the menu. Whatever, chicken’s fine. Oh, and a nem ran.
“You want sauce with that?”
“Hell yeah you do!”
I gestured at Frazer and drawled “My local guide informs me…”
Both women running the truck laughed - then the one handling the food leant over to peer at me and asked “Did I hear a fellow Londoner?”
“Oh! Yeah.”
“Psh!” The other woman rolled her eyes with a fond snort. “Still calling yourself a Londoner after living here six years.”
“Uh-huh.”
They dished up our food and I tapped my card and the interaction was over. But that one comment meant there was now a connection in place. Plus, while everyone else was dispersing, most back towards campus, Frazer had perched on the low brick wall and was tearing into his “bun mam”. I joined him.
“Oh wow.” I mumbled around my first mouthful of pho. “You were right.”
It tasted even better than it smelled, and was exactly what I needed after stressful hours of running around trying to memorise names and layouts and schedules. I felt like my exhaustion was wafting away out of my nose when I exhaled.
Frazer nodded vigorously without pausing his hearty slurps. I was totally going to try that bun mam stuff next time. And there was definitely going to be a next time. Hard to believe this was cheap enough for students to eat for lunch everyday!
Just think, if Frazer hadn’t been showing me around, I probably would’ve gotten a pre-made sandwich at the little supermarket on campus. Ugh.
I dabbed the nem ran in the sauce and tried a nibble. Mm! As well as crab the crispy roll had shredded veggies, and the sauce was this wild mix of sweet, sour, savoury, and spicy!
By the time we finished eating the crowd’s gone. We really ought to be going too, but firstly, I needed another nem ran. And secondly, I was really curious about the business’s name.
So I went back to place my order, and spotted a sign right below the menu, written in the same hand as the specials - “We’re NOT SISTERS”.
Huh.
I looked back and forth between the two. Ok, I couldn’t place where their genetics trace back to, but they didn’t look, like, similar enough to be siblings.
“Want something else?” The cashier woman prompted
“Oh, yeah, another nem ran please. Um.” I pointed to the sign. “Why…?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s kind of a long story.”
“Mm-hm?”
Of course I didn’t want to pry, but I was curious.
“This business has been in my family for three generations, now. ‘Pham’s Street Food’. Authentic Vietnamese cuisine. Well known locally.”
Oh, yeah, it does say “Pham’s” at the top of the menu.
“I’m not surprised. This was amazing. Glad I had a local guide.”
She grinned, suitably proud of her work, and continued “So, when Linh and I got married…”
A swift sideways glance at me. Measuring.
With no idea what to say, how to signal ‘it’s cool’, I offered “Congrats?”
“Oh, um, thank you, but that was years ago…” She floundered.
Trying to get the conversation back out of awkwardness, I ventured “So, er, she took your last name, since she was, um, marrying into the family business?”
“Exactly!” She relaxed. “But… people - people who knew me, regular customers - kept commenting about how they ‘didn’t know I had a sister’.”
I looked between them again. I still didn’t see it.
“We kept having to have the same uncomfortable conversations over and over, until finally Linh got pissed off and made the sign, and… people started calling the truck that, and… now it’s just a thing.” She gave a lopsided shrug.
“Ohh.”
Ok, that sign is bigger than the name at the top of the menu, but still…
I grinned and hesitantly said “Well, if anyone asks where I got the delicious smelling nem ran, I’ll be sure to tell them to check out Pham’s on…” I look around. “Whatever street this is, and we’ll just hope they can read.”
Both women returned my grin, and the one I’d come to know as Huyen said “Do! And try a banh goi on the house.”
I’m sure she knew they’d become my greatest weakness.

Prompt was “Food Truck”.