Whenever I eat pho, I always remind the vendor: "Beef brisket (for example), no MSG, please (it's crucial not to forget)." Yet, I still find myself muttering while eating, "Why is it sweet?" I noticed that at the counter, when adding meat and noodles to the bowl, the vendor has a bowl of MSG, and they typically add a spoon of it. I suggested that adding MSG to pho gives it an unpleasant sweetness, but they respond that many regular customers are already accustomed to that taste.

I became suspicious, wondering if they already add handfuls of MSG and seasoning powder during cooking. A spoonful or two of raw MSG added directly when pouring broth into the bowl might only create a placebo effect. Perhaps my impression of artificial sweetness in the pho comes from seeing the MSG being added.

Indeed, the issue of MSG has been widely debated recently. When I was a child, MSG was very common, often bought with ration coupons. Each time my mother purchased it, it was just a packet, likely 200 grams, lasting several months. As a teenager, I often stir-fried water spinach, and the recipe included a pinch of MSG, a little salt, or a dash of fish sauce for a richer flavor. Later, around the early 1990s, Hai Chau seasoning powder appeared, a blend of salt, MSG, and a hint of pepper, marking the era of all-in-one 'combo' seasonings. This seasoning powder was particularly suitable for dipping boiled chicken, a staple at feasts.

Advertisements and articles about MSG production in Vietnamese newspapers from 1922-1926. *Photo: From the book 'Footprints of the City'*.

The presence of MSG is not a distant phenomenon. According to many researchers, it originated as a flavor enhancer created by the Japanese in the early 20th century, named umami, meaning savory taste. It likely appeared in Vietnam around the 1920s, with advertisements in Cochinchina at the time stating: "Its aroma is delightful, incredibly savory, and very easy to use... Before adding it to food, it has no smell, but when a tiny bit is added, it tastes as sweet as fresh meat," and "It's also good to keep on the dining table for users to add as they please, just like salt" ("Certificates from the United States, England, France, and Japan for Ajinomoto powder," Cong Luan Newspaper, 24/3/1922).

However, what is remarkable is that during the wars and especially the subsidy period in North Vietnam, MSG quickly became a solution for adding sweetness to dishes lacking meat and fish. It could evoke a sense of protein in stir-fries, stews, or soups, even without any actual meat. As a child of the subsidy era, I can confirm this, and even now, I find it amusing to recall sometimes placing a few crystals of MSG on my tongue to experience an unusual sweetness. The sharp taste quickly left an artificial, faintly sweet, even unpleasant fishy sensation, quite unlike sneaking sugar, which has a distinct sweetness. I never tasted MSG raw again. Nevertheless, I grew up well with MSG – a foreign substance.

MSG quickly became something distinctly Hanoian. As a place dominated by the subsidy distribution system, MSG was naturally distributed to tens of thousands of households, making the memory of MSG a collective one, similar to the shared memory of tetracycline antibiotic that doctors once prescribed to children, resulting in a large number of the 1960s and 1970s generations having yellowed, dull teeth. However, tetracycline has tangible evidence in the poor dental health of my generation, whereas any consequences of MSG seem very vague. During Tet (Lunar New Year), a household with a packet of MSG featuring red bowls and Japanese characters was considered well-off. People particularly preferred MSG with large crystals over the common fine granules at the bottom of the packet. 'Canh' (crystals) is how Hanoians referred to MSG granules, similar to how they call processed tea leaves, and it also reflects the value difference between tea crystals and tea dust. 'Red bowl brand' MSG or Thai Nguyen tea were two aspects of a bygone era's affluence.

MSG and processed tea were formally packaged into small gifts by Hanoians, sometimes even becoming presents. These items, therefore, once represented material value, grouped with items like bicycles and red-cased televisions. It permeated idiomatic language, such as 'MSG crystals,' used to refer to rare and precious things like men during wartime, as most went to the front lines, leaving only a few on the home front.

To be continued.

(Excerpt from the book 'Footprints of the City' by Nguyen Truong Quy)