NYC is a gourmand’s paradise. But, while press-worthy restaurants open seemingly every week, there’s one particular Soho spot that has been on countless foodies' minds: Bun (pronounced Boon), the latest culinary endeavor from chef Michael “Bao” Huynh (formerly of Bao 111 and Bao Noodles). Thanks to funding from former Missing Persons and Duran Duran member, Warren Cuccurullo, a $12-and-under menu of Vietnamese dishes crafted with the help of his wife, Thao Nguyen (not to mention a kitchen that doesn’t close until 2am), Huynh has peaked many a palette’s interest.

For fledgling fashion designer (and burgeoning foodie) Thuy Diep – who was raised in Southern Vietnam by her two tailoring parents until age 6, and, whose studio/showroom is just a quick walk from Bao’s new outpost – a dinner at Bun provided a perfect break in her non-stop schedule. Now in its third season, Diep’s namesake line, Thuy, which sells at upscale retailers like Takashimaya, have gotten a warm welcome from the fashion industry and keeping the designer, who honed her skills at the likes of United Bamboo and a NY-based Atelier, extremely busy. But, on a recent night, Diep took the time to sit down with psychoPEDIA to taste Bao’s latest creations, talk shop, and explain why one should always judge a Vietnamese restaurant by its fish sauce. In her own words:

What are you first impressions of the space?
It’s comfortable – the wood and all of that -- it makes you want to sit in. You don’t feel too exposed. It has a downtown vibe to it. It fits in well with the area [on the border of Soho and Chinatown]. The style seems a little eclectic – it definitely has an Asian feel to it but I couldn’t put my finger on it being Vietnamese. It has personality, but it’s not trying to hard. There’s a hint of Asian-ness, with the Buddha and the bamboo, but it’s not hitting you over the head with it. I like that – the subtlety.

Do you eat Vietnamese food often?
I’m partial to Asian food in general. I usually have it four times a week, and Vietnamese, on average, once a week. One of the things I miss living in New York, is that in Vietnamese culture, food is the center of everything. We used to have these long dinners. My mom would cook quite a bit, and we would have these five-hour meals. It’s very social. I kind of relate it to the Italians.

[The waiter greets us, goes over different dishes, describing the cuisine as “Vietnamese tapas, with a little fusion.” Diep settles on Shrimp and Pork Belly rolls, spicy duck salad, Foie Gras Bun, Short Ribs, Blackened Cod, and Pho Ga – one dish from each of the menu’s sections. Less than ten minutes later the dishes arrive one after the other.]

On the spicy duck salad: This is pretty good. It’s quite nice. When I think of Vietnamese food there’s this really nice balance between salty and sour. The mint is definitely very Vietnamese. It lacks subtlety, but I think that’s the nature of Vietnamese food – it’s very pronounced. I love the pepper, salty, sweet.

On the shrimp and pork belly rolls:
This is really nice, the shell. I like the texture of it. I can’t distinguish the pork from the shrimp – the meat part of it. But it’s good.

On the Bun: This is nice and crunchy. I like the vermicelli. I’m not crazy about the foie gras meatballs…

So, what do you think overall?
I’ll tell you after I finish the Pho [laughs]. The broth has to taste fresh; it can’t be murky. It has to be clear, fresh and taste of caramelized onions. The other thing is the fish sauce; it has to taste right. That’s the way you can tell. I have to taste the fish sauce; if it’s right, the place has a lot of potential. [Diep tastes a spoonful of the fish sauce.] It’s different – it’s more vinegar-y – but it’s good.

Is your collection at all influenced by your Vietnamese heritage?
You know, someone asked me that at my show: “What in your collection is Vietnamese?” Since then I’ve thought a lot about that. I think, more abstractly, it’s harmony. I feel like Southern [Vietnamese] people are really harmonious. I don’t know about the north, but, in the south, even in the food there’s a harmony. There’s a little bit of sweet, a little bit of spicy and salty – all that mixed together creates a really beautiful balance. I feel like what comes out of me is that need to be balanced – in the composition of the line, the colors… the inability to be vulgar. It may be in a more abstract way, but it goes back to my Vietnamese roots.

You’ve said that your fall line was inspired by a desire to be protected and cozy. What do you crave during the winter in terms of comfort food?
When I was growing up, my mother cooked for us – every dinner we would all sit together as a family – she would make a three-course meal and we would always start out with the soup, then meat, then vegetables. To me, as a grown-up, if I have a meal without the soup, there’s something missing. When I have it, it makes me feel like everything is going to be ok.

What’s the consensus on the Pho Ga?
I’ve never had it like that before… with the egg. I think the liquid lightened up a little bit with it, because before it was too heavy. It’s different – definitely fusion.

[Bites into the foie gras meatball after some hesitation] Mmm, that’s not bad.

On the blackened cod: I think the cod tastes nice. But the dill part, that’s a little weird to me. I wouldn’t order it again. That wasn’t my favorite dish.

What would you say was your favorite?
I would order this again [pointing to the Pho Ga]. I would order that again [the Bun], and that [the spring rolls]. But I wouldn’t get the foie gras again. I would go more traditional.

Would you come back here on your own?
It definitely strikes me as a place that, if I was down in Chinatown drinking with my friends, I would bring them here. Like a late-night spot – you go in and have a dish. It’s not the type of place where you have an orgasm after you eat, but it’s good. The best part, though, is the price and the portions! The price range changes everything. It definitely makes me want to come back.

~Alisa Gould-Simon