By Gia Linh

If you find yourself in Hồ Chí Minh City wondering what to eat, make your way to An Khánh Ward, formerly Thảo Điền in District 2, for a welcome pocket of calm away from the city centre.

Long favoured by expatriates, the neighbourhood has evolved into a culinary crossroads. Cultures overlap here in easy, unforced ways, and that diversity expresses itself most vividly on the plate.

Wander along its narrow streets and you’ll pass an almost dizzying line-up of restaurants, bistros and hole-in-the-wall eateries, each promising a different culinary passport stamp.

Finding somewhere to eat is effortless, and most of the time you’re able to find authentic and genuinely delicious food.

On a cool Saturday evening I decided to let intuition lead.

With no reservation and no fixed plan, we drifted through softly lit streets until a modest red sign caught my eye. Tucked along quiet Nguyễn Ư Dĩ Street, not far from the Thảo Điền metro station, is Bistro Tony, a French eatery that seemed to hum gently apart from the surrounding bustle.

A quick glance at its social pages and reviews helped seal the decision. But it was the sight of French diners occupying nearly half the tables that confirmed it: this was the real deal.

Step inside and you could be forgiven for thinking you’ve wandered onto the set of a Parisian film. Chequered red tablecloths, miniature lamps casting pools of amber light, a compact bar in the corner — every detail nods to the classic neighbourhood bistro.

The space is intimate rather than cramped, warmed by soft background music and inviting aromas drifting from the open kitchen.

The menu reads like a love letter to French comfort food, complemented by rotating weekly specials. There is also a thoughtfully priced set menu for those seeking a full-course experience without extravagance.

After a leisurely chat we set out on our starters which arrived as a trio: tuna carpaccio for brightness, a seafood vol-au-vent for indulgence and classic Burgundy snails.

​They vanished within minutes.

The tuna carpaccio was refreshingly straightforward, elevated by olive oil and a passion-fruit dressing that demanded repeated swipes of crusty French baguette.

One mouthful of bread soaked through with dressing and topped with tender tuna was both predictable and deeply satisfying — familiar, yet far from dull.

The seafood vol-au-vent, one of the weekly specials, proved the quiet revelation of the evening. Beneath its flaky puff pastry lid lay a creamy sauce that was rich without heaviness, cradling plump shrimp and delicate red tilapia. Each bite balanced texture and flavour with admirable restraint.

Then came the Burgundy snails. For Vietnamese diners hesitant about escargot, think of grilled seashells at a seaside barbecue — but dressed luxuriously in garlic, butter and parsley.

Despite the generous seasoning, the snails retained their freshness and gentle chew. If you’ve been unsure about trying them, consider this your nudge.

“It’s best to order everything in one go,” our waiter advised — a suggestion that soon made perfect sense. The mains arrived in seamless rhythm, a testament to attentive service that never once felt intrusive.

​Curiosity led us to the beef bourguignon. We wondered how it would compare with bò kho, the Vietnamese beef stew often said to carry a French influence alongside Chinese and Indian notes. Served with baguette and silky mashed potatoes, the resemblance was immediately apparent: tender beef, sweet carrots and a warmly spiced aroma.

Yet the differences were clear: the bourguignon was lighter in seasoning, free from five-spice powder and annatto oil, and felt less assertive and more contemplative.

And the sauce — glossy, deeply savoury and beautifully reduced — was the true star, melting into the mashed potato with the inevitability of bread and butter.

For newcomers to French cuisine, it is a reassuring and comforting choice.

We alternated between the bourguignon and another weekly special: braised duck with truffle sauce. The duck thigh was tender and yielding, cloaked in a generous layer of truffle-infused sauce. It leaned towards subtlety rather than boldness, allowing the quality of the duck itself to take centre stage.

Side dishes deserve mention. Diners can choose from mashed potato, mashed carrot and sweet potato, Tony-style fried rice, chips or gingerbread. The mashes, creamy and well-seasoned, are particularly worth ordering.

By this point, we had consumed an indecent number of baguette slices, each one impossible to resist, and were teetering on the brink of fullness.

But dessert obeys a different logic.

​A pavlova provided the final flourish. A thick disc of feather-light meringue was crowned with whipped cream, fresh fruit and edible flowers, then drizzled with tangy berry sauce.

Crisp at the edges and marshmallow-soft within, it cut through the richness of the preceding courses with elegance.

Sweet, airy and gently tart, it delivered precisely the ending the evening required.

Our night unfolded in laughter and unhurried conversation, blending naturally with the warmth of the room. Bistro Tony is not ostentatious and does not chase spectacle. Instead, it offers something rarer: a relaxed, heartfelt dining experience where dishes are prepared in-house with evident care.

Sometimes the best meals are the ones you do not plan. That night, intuition proved entirely trustworthy.— VNS

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Bistro Tony

Address: 30A Nguyễn Ư Dĩ, An Khánh Ward, HCM City

Opening hours: 11 am–3 pm & 6–10 pm

Phone: 0833 340 294

Reservation: bistrotony-thaodien.com

Comment: A must-visit French bistro that offers great food with affordable prices.