Eating Dog in Vietnam: A Saigon Adventure

Daughter 2 chows down on some dog meat

I am sure the hotel manager had heard it before, but it still felt strange even saying the words: "Where can we go eat some dog?"

We were in Vietnam, in the city of Saigon, and apparently it was the right part of the lunar cycle to eat dog. Locals had assured me that eating dog at the wrong time of the month would cause horrible, unspeakable things to happen to me. And for my part—having had a pet dog growing up—I figured I was already risking the wrath of karma by eating dog at all. Anything I could do to tip things in my favor seemed sensible.

So I waited until the moon told me it was OK to eat a bit of dog.

The hotel manager told me he knew a great place. He said, "Show me your map." I presented an extremely large and thorough map of Saigon. After studying it for a minute he said, "Hmm. It is not on this map."

He then proceeded to draw a new, handwritten map on the edge of my official one. He explained that when we got to the right spot, we wouldn’t be able to miss it. Since the moon had apparently told everyone in the city it was a good time to eat dog, there would be lots and lots of people out indulging. We just needed to find a big congregation of tables set up in the street, with grills blazing away and pictures of dogs hung up all around. Yum!

So off we went into the night, with a hand-drawn map, a sense of adventure, and the desire to eat the distant cousin of a beloved pet.

Getting Lost—and Then Found

We followed the map pretty well for a while, but eventually things started getting hazy. We weren’t sure if we were in the right spot.

We checked down a street that looked like a good candidate, but there were no tables or grills to be seen. So we wandered on.

Eventually we circled back, having found no other likely streets. We decided to walk up the street we had doubted—just to see if we had missed something.

We knew the street couldn't possibly be the right place. It was too dark. Too quiet. Too lacking in cooked dog. I think my wife actually sighed in relief. She didn’t want to eat dog, but our family rule is that what one eats, all eat, so she was obligated to give it a try. She was so happy. This couldn't be the right street.

But it was.

I’m not sure how it happened, but the street that seemed dark and deserted suddenly became boisterous and bright. Maybe we turned a corner, although I don't remember turning. Suddenly there it was:

A large grill, tables packed with locals, and a great big picture of a friendly-looking Golden Retriever hanging above it all, offering his silent, obedient approval.

Ordering Dog Meat in Saigon

We were the only non-Vietnamese people there.

We were seated at a table and handed menus. Unsurprisingly, there were no English menus. That was OK with me. I find that often the more difficulty I have ordering, the more I enjoy the meal.

I had learned a little Vietnamese to help out in this situation. When a man came to take our order, I smiled my biggest smile and said, "Dog meat, please!"

The man said something back to me that I didn’t understand even a little bit. But eventually he got me to understand that everything on the menu was dog meat. We needed to figure out how we wanted our pooch prepared.

The phrase I should have learned in Vietnamese—and a good one for everyone to know—was, "Please bring me your favorite dish served here." It’s almost impossible to communicate this via impromptu sign language.

I tried to get the man to pick something for us, but it didn’t work. Eventually, I just pointed randomly at an item on the menu. The man looked relieved that he finally had an order and disappeared post haste.

But he left the menu with us, so I copied the menu item I had pointed to, planning to look it up later. Sadly, it turned out I had ordered boiled dog meat. Whoops.

How Did Dog Meat Taste?

How was it?

It wasn’t too bad. It was a little like boiled pork, with just a hint of dogginess at the end. Even my wife managed to choke down a bite or two. My middle daughter declared it “good.”

And honestly, ending up with boiled dog (rather than grilled or fried, which I’m sure is much tastier) allowed me to believe that karma had already exacted her vengeance. Maybe now I didn’t have to look forward to some terrible misfortune later on. Maybe.

What We Learned from Eating Dog Meat in Vietnam

Once again, our family learned that something which seemed foreign and taboo was really just a common experience for other people.

Because travel is about trying new things.