Vietnamese restaurant Truc Lam is a St. Louis landmark

The soft jingle of a weathered bell announces your arrival at this charming Vietnamese eatery on Gravois Avenue in Tower Grove South. Truc Lam’s unassuming exterior belies the rich tapestry of history and heart contained within. For over three decades, this local treasure has been not only a cornerstone of the community, but also a testament to the indomitable spirit of its owner, Hoàng Lâm.

The restaurant’s interior is a time capsule, adorned with objects that whisper tales of 20th century Vietnam. Four vertical panels featuring seashell mosaics of women in áo dài (traditional dress worn by Vietnamese women featuring a long tunic over pants) hang on the back wall. Mrs. Hoàng brought these artworks – more than a century old – back from a visit to her homeland. From the same trip came a painting simply titled “Two Goldfish, 1990,” which today is a splash of shimmering yellow and seaweed green against the restaurant’s wooden 1980s walls. Perched on the checkout counter, a pot-bellied stone Buddha looks out over the dining room, grinning ear to ear. Truc Lam is more than a collection of objects. It’s a living, breathing entity, shaped by the life of the woman who created it. Mrs. Hoàng’s journey to opening a restaurant is marked by endurance and commitment to family. She fled the city of Mỹ Tho in southern Vietnam in 1980, becoming one of hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese refugees dubbed “boat people” having embarked on perilous sea journeys in the aftermath of the Vietnam War.

 

 

Upon her arrival in the United States, Mrs. Hoàng was taken in by an American sponsor, an arrangement contingent on her being enrolled in school. However, after brief stints at Webster University and St. Louis Community College, she made the transition from study to work in order to sponsor the rest of her family’s migration to the United States. She held a variety of positions – from seamstress to lab assistant to waitress – before finding her calling in cooking for others.

Hoàng Lâm opened Truc Lam in 1992, and was soon able to afford to move her parents and siblings to St. Louis. She was quick to enlist their support in operating the restaurant. Various family members have come and gone since, but after 32 years in business, Mrs. Hoàng has never abandoned her post as head chef. She refers to her siblings by birth order, counting them off on her fingers. “Today, it’s just me and No. 10,” said Renato, Mrs. Hoàng’s son, referring to the restaurant’s remaining staff.

 

 

From the comforting embrace of a steaming clay pot of fish to the delicate crispness of a pan-fried bánh xèo (egg crêpe), Truc Lam’s menu is a celebration of the Mekong Delta region, whose cuisine is renowned for its use of fresh seafood and herbs. Since opening, Mrs. Hoàng has prepared recipes she learned from her parents, adapting them slightly for American tastes, but ultimately retaining their essence. In fact, the starkest difference between today’s menu at Truc Lam and that of years ago is not in its flavors, but rather in its abridgement: about 100 items today, pared down from its peak at over 300.

So too has the restaurant’s customer base evolved over the years, although trending towards growth rather than shrinkage. In the early days, nearly all of Mrs. Hoàng’s customers were from St. Louis’ Vietnamese community. Today, her restaurant attracts people from all walks of life and has become a fixture of the Tower Grove South neighborhood, with many of its regulars arriving by foot.

 

 

She’s known some of them since they were children. “I first saw them when they were this small,” says Mrs. Hoàng, hovering her palm just above the floor. “And now, they’re so big! I don’t remember all their names. My sister does; she has a good brain.” Other patrons come from much farther away, but their arrival provides Mrs. Hoàng with a sense of home. “I love talking to customers visiting from Vietnam,” said Mrs. Hoàng. “They tell me about what it’s like over there these days.”

Truc Lam, meaning “bamboo forest,” was named after the hardy, resilient plant that Mrs. Hoàng fell in love with as a child. It’s a fitting name for a restaurant that has weathered literal and figurative storms. From the challenges of running a small business to the heart-wrenching experiences of her own past, Hoàng Lâm has emerged stronger. In fact, her greatest pride is the knowledge that after working day in and day out for 32 years, she still has what it takes to steer the ship.

“Better than staying at home alone!” she said, laughing.

Surrounded by the gentle clinking of chopsticks against a bowl of pho and the aroma of nuoc mam (the umamipacked dipping sauce that is ubiquitous in Vietnamese restaurants), you can’t help but feel a sense of peace and belonging. It’s a place where time slows down, pretentiousness melts away, and humanity overcomes language barriers. And at the heart of it all is Hoàng Lâm, a woman who, like the bamboo she so admires, has bent with the wind but never broken.

Acknowledgement: The author would like to thank Thuỵ Trần, whose research on Mrs. Hoàng Lâm’s life provided invaluable context for this story.

3737 Gravois Ave., St. Louis, 314.776.1299