Bánh xèo tôm nhảy is a unique and flavorful variation of Vietnam’s beloved crispy pancake, bánh xèo. Originating from Bình Định province, this dish stands out for its use of fresh, live shrimp, which are so lively before cooking that they are called “tôm nhảy” (jumping shrimp). Unlike the larger, turmeric-heavy bánh xèo found in southern Vietnam, Bình Định-style bánh xèo is typically smaller, crispier, and packed with fresh ingredients. The sizzling batter, made from rice flour and coconut milk, creates a delicate crunch, while the shrimp, often cooked in their shells, add a natural sweetness. Served with fresh herbs, rice paper, and a tangy dipping sauce, bánh xèo tôm nhảy is not just a dish—it’s an experience that highlights the vibrant and diverse flavors of Vietnamese cuisine.
Ingredients:
For the Batter:
1 cup rice flour
2 tablespoons cornstarch (for extra crispiness)
½ teaspoon turmeric powder (for color)
¼ teaspoon salt
1 cup coconut milk
¾ cup water
2 green onions, finely chopped (optional)
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
For the Filling:
½ pound (~8 oz) fresh shrimp
½ pound pork belly, thinly sliced
1 cup bean sprouts
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon black pepper
For the Dipping Sauce (Nước Chấm):
¼ cup fish sauce
¼ cup water
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon lime juice
1 garlic clove, minced
1 Thai chili, finely chopped (optional)
For Serving:
Fresh herbs: mint, Thai basil, perilla leaves
Rice paper (optional)
Lettuce leaves
Instructions:
Prepare the Batter:
In a large bowl, whisk together rice flour, cornstarch, turmeric powder, oil, and salt.
Add coconut milk and water, stirring until smooth.
Mix in chopped green onions (optional) and let the batter rest for at least 30 minutes.
Prepare the Filling:
Clean the live shrimp (or fresh shrimp) and season with salt and black pepper. Leave the shells on for extra flavor.
Thinly slice pork belly and season with a pinch of salt and pepper.
Make the Bánh Xèo:
Heat a nonstick pan (or cast iron skillet) over medium-high heat and add ½ tablespoon of oil.
Add a few pieces of shrimp and pork belly, searing for about 1-2 minutes until partially cooked.
Pour ¼ cup of batter into the pan, tilting to spread it evenly into a thin layer.
Sprinkle a handful of bean sprouts on one side.
Cover with a lid and cook for 2-3 minutes until the edges start to crisp.
Remove the lid and cook uncovered for another 2 minutes, adding a little more oil around the edges for extra crispiness.
Fold the pancake in half and transfer to a plate.
Assemble the Dish:
In a small bowl, mix together fish sauce, water, sugar, lime juice, garlic, and chili until the sugar dissolves to make the sauce.
Serve bánh xèo hot with fresh herbs, lettuce, and dipping sauce.
Wrap pieces in lettuce or rice paper, dip in nước chấm, and enjoy!
When Ms. Quynh Ngo moved from Ho Chi Minh City to Chapel Hill, she expected academic rigor—but she did not anticipate how deeply she would miss the familiar comforts of home. From struggling with language barriers to searching for ingredients to recreate her favorite dishes, every experience became a lesson in adaptation. Over time, she discovered that food was more than just a reminder of home—it was a way to bridge cultures, connect with others, and reclaim her identity. But beyond the flavors of bánh xèo tôm nhảy and the warmth of community, her journey was about something bigger: learning to embrace the unfamiliar and redefine what home means.
Quynh first arrived in the United States in 2019 to attend UNC-Chapel Hill, driven by her ambition to pursue stronger academic opportunities. Before moving to North Carolina, she spent 18 years in Saigon—now formally named “Ho Chi Minh City”—Vietnam. It is a vibrant metropolis in southern Vietnam with a rich and complex history as it was the bustling capital of South Vietnam during the Vietnam War.
In contrast, the Vietnamese population in North Carolina is smaller but steadily growing. The transition was difficult, as she moved alone and had to adjust to an entirely new environment. She was accustomed to the urban energy of Saigon, whereas North Carolina felt extremely suburban in comparison. The shift was also cultural—Saigon’s population is predominantly Vietnamese, while North Carolina, of course, has a White-dominant demographic.
Cities like Charlotte, Raleigh, and Greensboro have seen an increase in Vietnamese residents, drawn by educational and economic opportunities. The Vietnamese in North Carolina are making their mark through businesses, cultural festivals, and community organizations, contributing to the state’s diversity and enriching its cultural tapestry.
Quynh was first exposed to English during her early education at a private “half-international” primary school. However, her secondary education took place in a public school, where she began focusing more seriously on learning English during her sophomore year. This was a deliberate effort to support her goal of studying abroad.
Academically, she faced no major challenges with English in her classes, something she remains grateful for. However, conversational English and slang proved to be more difficult. Unlike many of her peers, she was not heavily exposed to American television shows, which made casual speech and cultural references harder to grasp.
Now, after four years in North Carolina, Quynh has graduated and is currently working. However, her journey as an international student was not without its challenges, particularly during COVID-19. The logistical struggles of attending classes across time zones, coupled with the university’s lack of flexibility, made the experience especially difficult. In Vietnam, students who are not seeking international education, like Quynh did, typically take a national exam, and their score determines which higher education institutions they can attend. Her decision to pursue education abroad meant navigating an entirely different system—one that came with both challenges and opportunities.
During her first year, she naturally gravitated toward other international students—it was the default, the comfortable choice. Communicating in English was difficult, and expressing her authentic self felt even harder. Homesickness and culture shock weighed on her, making it difficult to step out of her comfort zone. She wishes she had explored more, pushed herself to connect beyond familiar circles, and confidently embraced every new experience.
Although the Vietnamese population in North Carolina was small, Quynh was still able to meet other Vietnamese people. Organizations like the Vietnamese Student Association (VSA) on campus provided a sense of community, even if it was much smaller than in other states. Still, it was more than she originally expected. She recalled being surprised by the presence of a Vietnamese community, however small.
Spending her winter breaks in California to visit family exposed her to a very different immigrant experience. The Vietnamese population in California is one of the largest and most vibrant Vietnamese communities outside of Vietnam. Concentrated in areas like Orange County’s Little Saigon, San Jose, and the Los Angeles metropolitan area, many families settled there as refugees following the Vietnam War. Since then, they have built thriving businesses, cultural institutions, and a strong sense of community, making California a hub for Vietnamese-American life. Orange County, California, felt like a middle ground, with a stronger Vietnamese presence that made her transition a little easier.
“You can go to the bank and hear Vietnamese. It’s an American bank… people talk in Vietnamese everywhere… you feel like you’re in Saigon for a little bit. But here you’ll never get that.”
The contrast was striking. In North Carolina, that kind of cultural familiarity was rare for her.
Beyond language and community, she also noticed a difference in how she was perceived. In her experience, there tended to be more racial tension toward Asians in North Carolina, whereas she felt a greater sense of belonging in California, especially when COVID-19 heightened anti-Asian sentiment. She recalls a particularly shocking racist encounter on a bus, which reinforced how different the two states felt.
She also observed a cultural difference in how people interacted. Vietnamese people, in her experience, are naturally talkative, which she finds endearing. In contrast, people in North Carolina could sometimes have a more indifferent demeanor, making interactions feel less warm.
In Quynh’s experience, the general knowledge of Vietnamese culture in Chapel Hill varies depending on the community. Among White Americans, the most recognized aspects of Vietnam are phở and the celebration of Lunar New Year.
Among East Asians, there is slightly more familiarity. She finds that many know about bánh mì and bún bò Huế, but phở remains the most commonly recognized dish. Additionally, some are aware of the traditional Vietnamese áo dài.
Despite these small points of cultural recognition, she wishes there were more opportunities for deeper cultural exchange. These moments happen only occasionally, and she hopes to explore not just Vietnamese culture with others, but also learn more about different cultures herself.
“It takes a lot of labor to make bánh xèo. Phở takes a lot of labor too, but it can be done overnight… for bánh xèo, you actually need to stay in there.”
For Quynh, bánh xèo holds a special place in her heart. Although she was raised in Ho Chi Minh City, her hometown is in Central Vietnam, where the region’s signature dish is bánh xèo tôm nhảy (jumping shrimp bánh xèo). The dish is a reminder of home, evoking childhood memories of family and coastal adventures. At home, her grandmother would often make it for her, but some of her fondest memories are of trips to the beach. After spending the day by the water, she would stop by a small roadside bánh xèo stand, where the sizzling sound of the batter hitting the pan and the fragrant aroma of shrimp and pork would fill the air. Those moments, sitting by the sea with a freshly made, crispy bánh xèo in hand, are what she remembers most fondly.
Finding authentic bánh xèo in North Carolina has been difficult. She has never seen it on a menu in Chapel Hill and instead associates places like Texas and California with better access to Vietnamese cuisine. To satisfy her cravings, she makes it at home, but it is a labor-intensive process.
Her favorite version is from Central Vietnam, where the batter is thicker—crispy on the outside, but moister inside. This contrasts with the Southern Vietnamese version, which is very thin, extra crispy, and often includes mung beans. When making it herself, she prefers fillings like shrimp, pork belly, sometimes beef, bean sprouts, and no mung bean. Whether homemade or from a small cart by the sea, bánh xèo remains one of her strongest connections to home.
For Quynh, cooking is both a necessity and a passion, but finding the right ingredients can be a challenge. Many essential Vietnamese ingredients are available at Asian grocery stores, but without a car, her grocery options are often limited. Certain staples like bean sprouts, various mushrooms, and the fragrant herbs known as “rau thơm” are especially hard to find in American supermarkets. When she cannot easily access them, she often has to leave them out of her dishes.
“I buy all my ‘Vietnamese vitamins of the month.”
When she does get the chance to visit H Mart or Que Huong, she makes sure to stock up. However, some seasonings remain difficult to find locally, so her aunt in California sends her all the essential spices to keep her pantry well-stocked.
Despite these challenges, Quynh enjoys experimenting with different cuisines and is not afraid to blend flavors. Influenced by Korean and Japanese food, which is widely available in Vietnam, as well as cooking YouTubers, she frequently tries new recipes. Even when cooking non-Vietnamese dishes, she often adds her own twist. “...[added a] touch of Vietnamese to it by adding fish sauce.” Her approach to food reflects both her cultural roots and her curiosity for new flavors, creating a unique and personal cooking style.
When asked what she hopes people learn from her experience, her answer is simple:
“Try everything other than phở.”
While phở is widely recognized, she sees food as more than just a meal—it is a vessel for understanding and experiencing culture. Vietnamese cuisine is rich, diverse, and deeply tied to history and tradition, and she hopes people will explore beyond the well-known dishes to truly appreciate its depth. Her time with UNC VSA (Vietnamese Student Association) reinforced this belief, as food was a powerful way to bring people together, share stories, and celebrate culture. Through these experiences, she saw how food serves as an introduction to a culture’s identity, opening doors to deeper conversations, connections, and appreciation.