There are sandwiches and then there are bánh mì, the Vietnamese classic made by filling small baguettes with meats, pickled vegetables, and herbs.
A product of the French colonization of Vietnam, the bánh mì is like a jambon au beurre reimagined with a Vietnamese spin: pickled daikon and carrots, cilantro, cucumbers, and thin slices of pork or sausage, all mortared with a thin spread of pâté between halves of a very light, very crispy baguette.
Even more special than the ordinary bánh mì are the bánh mì made with baguettes baked in-house in the Vietnamese style, like those at Saigon Blvd. Bánh Mì in Catonsville.
In a strip mall off of Baltimore National Pike, Saigon Blvd. is a cheery, light-filled shop with a long white counter fronting a space filled with coffee machines for making Vietnamese iced coffee—called cà phê sũa dá, a blissful blend of strong coffee and condensed milk—and bakery ovens turning out the baguettes. (If strong coffee isn’t your speed, there’s also coconut-milk matcha or pandan tea.)
Andy Tien left a career in real estate to open Saigon Blvd. in October, in a former mattress store that required a 15-month build-out. According to Tien, the project also required him to return to his native Saigon, which he and his family left when he was seven, and apprentice himself to a baker to learn how to bake the baguettes.
He brought back both the skill and the recipe. Tien and his staff now offer 14 variations of bánh mì, including those made with pork belly, grilled chicken, meatballs, vegetables, sardines, and more. Loaded with picked vegetables, slices of jalapeños, and a thatch of cilantro, all of this is embedded within those marvelous baguettes.
The other side of the menu is devoted to another Vietnamese specialty: summer rolls. Composed of pale vermicelli, crunchy vegetables, and various proteins that are wrapped with rice paper, these are light and flavorful and pair well with your bánh mì.
It’s also fun to watch the rolls being constructed, as Saigon Blvd. uses a very cool kitchen gadget in the form of a half-circle water bowl for dipping the rice paper circles to first soften the discs.
The sleek space has no seating, so you can get everything to-go, or, better yet, take a seat at one of the two wooden picnic tables outside, as bánh mì are best eaten right away.
And these, the finest I’ve had since leaving Southern California, should spend as little time as possible in their pretty sandwich bags.