From time to time, I’ve written about Vietnamese cuisine in Prague — a food culture I’m particularly fond of.
Right now, I’m spending two months in Vietnam, indulging in an abundance of marvellous Vietnamese dishes at places ranging from humble street kitchens to restaurants that, for very good reason, have earned a place in the Michelin Guide. I share many of these experiences on my YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/@LausSorensen
But on this rare occasion, when I choose to write here on this blog about a dining experience in Vietnam, it isn’t a Vietnamese restaurant I’ll be covering — but a French one.
Read on, and you’ll see why.
During my stay, I have visited ten restaurants in Da Nang featured in the Michelin Guide. None of them have a Michelin star, but each carries either a Bib Gourmand or “Selected” distinction.
Up to now, I’ve mostly chosen the more affordable establishments in the guide, and have been consistently impressed by the quality of the food and the exceptional value for money — something that’s hard to come by in many other parts of the world. Out of nine restaurants, I’ve only been even mildly disappointed once.
Still, every now and then I’m willing to pay for a truly exceptional culinary experience, and so I decided to treat myself to a visit to one of Da Nang’s top restaurants.
After carefully comparing the menus of two French Michelin restaurants I found interesting, I chose Le Comptoir Da Nang, where the six-course tasting menu is priced at 1,890,000 VND, with a matching wine pairing at 1,060,000 VND. All in all, roughly 3,000,000 VND – about €98, $114, or 735 DKK. That’s similar to Prague prices (though perhaps a touch lower given that six courses are more than the usual four or five there), and less than half – perhaps even a third – of what I’d expect to pay in Denmark, where I’m from.
On arrival, the façade suggested a small place, but I’d forgotten that in Vietnam they build in depth rather than width. Inside, the space opened into a series of reasonably generous rooms, avoiding the feel of one large hall. I was seated in the second room from the entrance, with at least one more room beyond. My table was a comfortable sofa at chair height, directly opposite the open kitchen – the perfect vantage point to watch a precise, quietly efficient team at work. No shouting, no visible stress. I also appreciated the generous spacing between tables.
The sommelier, Myriam Moretto – a friendly and highly competent Italian – talked me through the menu before pouring the first wine from the wine pairing: a Crémant de Bourgogne “Extatic” from Sainchargny, made from Chardonnay and Pinot Noir, with fine bubbles and a pleasing fullness.
Then came a generous welcome: four types of butter, four varieties of bread, and thin slices of a Lyonnais salami the name of which I unfortunately missed. Generosity was clearly part of the concept – as was Lyon itself, home turf of executive chef Olivier Corti. There was also a sense of playful reinterpretation and unconventional pairings, something the French waiter (Brian, I think) explained keeps guests coming back.
I like to take my time, and the pace suited me perfectly. We began with the amuse-bouche: green asparagus presented as a light asparagus cream, tiny pieces of asparagus, and crisp smoked bacon. A delightful mouthful – bright and appetite-awakening.
The first starter was crab with pomelo, avocado, Lait Ribot (buttermilk), and crisp Bánh pía, paired with “Astrolabe” Sauvignon Blanc from Marlborough, New Zealand. Myriam advised taking all components in one bite with the wine – and she was absolutely right.
The gentle but distinct flavours balanced beautifully: In addition to – naturally – the delicious taste of abundant crab meat, I was greeted by tangy buttermilk, creamy avocado, sweet-tart pomelo, and the unexpected crunch of Bánh pía’s layered pastry. The wine’s fruitiness completed the picture.
The second starter was duck foie gras – but instead of the classic accompaniments, the chef paired it with Swiss chard, pine nuts, dried grapes, and a truffle sauce. The sauce in particular showed his playful side, but everything provided the contrast of texture, acidity, and sweetness needed to offset the richness. The wine pairing – “Cutio” by Jorge Navascues, DOP Cariñena (Macabeo grape) – was new to me, but its minerality and structure tied the intense flavours together perfectly.
Next came a Lyonnaise speciality: Quenelle à la façon du Chef with seaweed, Nantua sauce, and Kaviari “Kristal” caviar. Traditionally made with pike, this quenelle used scallop instead, with a delicate set outer layer and a creamy core. The Nantua sauce – based on crayfish – complemented the scallop beautifully, and the diced crayfish tails added a firm-textured counterpoint, along with a spoonful of caviar. Light tomato in the sauce brought balance to the crayfish’s natural sweetness. My eagerness got the better of me here – I attacked with my knife before photographing the dish, slightly damaging the quenelle.
The wine, Tenuta Terre Nere Etna Bianco DOC from Sicily (Carricante, Catarratto, Inzolia, Grecanico, Minnella), had a fresh aroma and volcanic minerality – another spot-on match.
Before the main course, a palate cleanser arrived: coriander granité with lime, Chartreuse, guava, and black olive. The appearance suggested a small sorbet, but the flavours and textures were far more complex – chunks of guava inside, a fine thread of caramelised lime zest on top, and a dusting of finely ground black olive. For coriander sceptics: there was no “soapy” taste here. This was a cleanser that demanded to be remembered as much as any of the main dishes.
The main course was guinea fowl from Maison Dandieu in France, presented in two ways. First, the breast, cooked as a ballotine, on a bed of Jerusalem artichoke mousseline, topped with a crisp round of skin, served with a baby carrot and a rich truffle-poulette sauce made from a 24-hour poultry stock.
Then, the leg – inspired by a McNugget, but far more refined – with a hidden surprise of truffle miso, topped with a delicate slice of pickled carrot. The accompanying wine, Bourgogne “La Moutonniere” from Domaine Roux Père et Fils, was a harmonious partner.
For dessert, theatre entered the scene – and I am a sucker for it. Macaron with raspberry mousse, lychee, rose, and rhubarb sorbet. Head Chef Benjamin arrived with a rose and a thermos flask in hand. He poured liquid nitrogen over the flower, then crumbled the delicate petals over the dish. The sweet, tart, fruity, and faintly bitter notes danced together, both in the dessert and in the wine – “Vignot” Moscato d’Asti DOCG from Piedmont, with notes of peach, melon, and lychee.
Finally, petit fours – and of course I accepted.
From start to finish, I was deeply impressed by the chef’s imagination, precision, and attention to detail, matched by perhaps the best-calibrated wine pairing I’ve ever had. I paid the bill gladly, feeling this was an absolute bargain for the quality.
I hope to fit in one more visit before I return to Prague – their other tasting menu is truffle-based, a little longer, and will set me back another million VND. That’s a lot of money – and I’m not wealthy – but we only live once, and I prefer to live well.
Le Comptoir Danang
16 Che Lan Vien st., Bac My An, Ngu Hanh Son, Danang, Vietnam
Phone: +84708.040.560
Email: lecomptoirdng@gmail.com