Description
The claustrophobic storefront seems to consist of nothing but people and shelves groaning with freshly produced food--shiny egg rolls and pâté chaud, glistening goi cuon wrapped in plastic, freshly fried crullers dripping with grease, just-roasted peanuts in plastic bags misty with condensation. Those disappear by the end of the day, along with the desserts in the cold case and the rows of Vietnamese coffee behind the counter. But the reason the line extends out the door and into the parking lot is the bánh mìs, torpedoes of crunch and saviors of our stomachs during these stretch-a-penny times.
