Banh Xeo - Vietnamese Crispy Pancake

"She didn’t know what words to use, so she kept it simple.

“Minh, come home this weekend.”

A pause.

“I’ll make bánh xèo. Your favourite.”

She didn’t say she knew he was hurting.

She didn’t mention the wedding, or Mai,

or the silence in his voice when he asked for money.

She just offered what she could.

A warm meal.

A familiar taste.

And a mother’s presence.

And that was how she held the thread —

beneath the storm, beneath the silence —

where only love remained."

From the book Woven by Love

There’s something magical about the sizzle that follows a ladle of batter hitting a hot pan — like a whisper rising into song. That’s how bánh xèo begins. And somehow, that’s how many of my memories begin too: quietly, unexpectedly, with a sound or scent that stirs something far deeper.

When I made this bánh xèo, it wasn’t just to eat. It was to remember.

And to honour a chapter in Woven by Love that still brings warmth to my chest.

Bánh Xèo - Vietnamese Crispy Pancake

This bánh xèo here might not be perfect. The corner curls just slightly, the browning uneven — but it crackled when I lifted it from the pan, and it held together. That’s enough.

Just like us, isn’t it?

If you’re reading this, I hope this little corner of the internet — and this little pancake — brings you a moment of peace.

Maybe you’ll make your own version. Maybe you’ll just sit and remember the last time someone cooked for you, not to impress, but to say:

I see you. I’m still here.

And maybe that’s enough for today.

What about you?

Have you ever tasted bánh xèo — the Vietnamese crispy pancake?

Or is there a dish in your life that reminds you of someone you love… not because it was fancy, but because it was shared in a moment that mattered?

I’d love to hear about it.

Leave a comment below or share your memory — even just a line or two. This Quiet Corner is for stories too, not just recipes.