He began our conversation with a simple greeting. Yet, that was also how he introduced his hometown – Quang Tri, the heroic land of fire, where people are resilient and hardworking.
He is Nguyen Duc Nhat Thuan, born in 1991, the founder who grew Ca Men from a small eatery into a business exporting Vietnamese products to demanding markets such as the U.S., Australia, Germany, and Canada. After 10 years of ups and downs—more downs than ups—he has gathered enough lessons and scars to calmly share his journey with us today.
The name “Ca Men” sounds both striking and unusual. Why did you choose it?
A ca men is a very familiar food container. In the South, it’s called ca men, in the North, cap long, while in Central Vietnam, we call it ca men.
I was born in a small rural area of Quang Tri. My childhood was tied to carrying a ca men filled with rice to the fields for my parents. So for me, it’s not just a utensil—it’s a memory of family bonds, simplicity, rustic life, and pride in my hometown.
I chose this name so that whenever I felt discouraged, it would remind me of why I started—and why I should never give up.
(Photo: The old “ca men” container from 10 years ago when Thuan first started his business | Source: Ca Men)
You graduated in logistics and landed a dream job right after university, earning USD 1,000 per month. Why did you quit and choose food instead?
That decision came from moments of “broken illusions.”
Seventeen years ago, like many young people, I came to Saigon with the dream of studying hard, finding success, and building a stable life. Growing up in the countryside without much exposure to the outside world, I thought Quang Tri was big and well-known. That illusion broke when a classmate once asked me, “Is Quang Tri the same as Hue?” I felt stunned, disappointed—and, honestly, a little hurt (laughs).
Another time, walking the streets of Saigon, I noticed many restaurants carrying the names of regions: Mi Quang, Bun Bo Hue, and more. Every region seemed to have a food “ambassador,” except Quang Tri—barely anyone knew its cuisine. That stirred something inside me: the urge to do something for my hometown.
By my third year in university, I was interning at a logistics company and was later offered a full-time job with a stable income (USD 1,000 per month). But deep down, I couldn’t shake the thought: How can I contribute to my homeland, so Quang Tri won’t be forgotten in the culinary map and people’s memories? That’s why I quit my job and started Ca Men.
Interesting—while many seek stability early on, you rejected it to chase something uncertain. How did your family and friends react?
Like any parents, mine wanted me to live a stable life. Being from Quang Tri, where people face storms and floods year-round, stability means everything. When I told my mother I had quit my job to open a restaurant, she was so upset she didn’t speak to me for a week.
I understood her reasons. First, I didn’t even know how to cook, yet I wanted to open a restaurant. Second, starting a business in Saigon was risky—everything is expensive. Even my friends laughed at the idea of bringing banh uot from Quang Tri to Saigon, saying I was crazy since you could find banh uot on almost every street corner.
But when they tried it, they admitted Quang Tri dishes had a distinctive, authentic flavor. Gradually, my parents came around too, even sending ingredients by plane so I could cook them properly. It had to taste like Mom’s cooking (smiles).
(Photo: Thuan understood why his mother opposed his decision | Source: Minh Dang for Vietcetera)
They say “business is like walking a tightrope.” How many times did you lose balance over the past 10 years?
Countless times. The word startup sounds grand and inspiring, but the reality is grueling. It’s your whole life—it affects not just you, but your family, friends, and everything around you.
At first, I was full of ambition—choosing big storefronts, busy locations. But soon reality hit: I had no money (laughs). I ended up selling food in a small alley.
Back then, delivery apps didn’t exist. I sold food, and I delivered it myself, rain or shine—even for a single order. I believed every delivery was a chance to earn trust. But sometimes, I lay awake wondering: Why did I leave a well-paying job to choose such a tough path?
(Photo: The owner of Ca Men used to sell and deliver food himself | Source: Ca Men)
And the saying is true: the higher you rise, the harder you fall. When Ca Men became more popular, sales grew, and I expanded to three branches in Tan Phu, Thu Duc, and Phu Nhuan. Then disaster struck. With my logistics background, I had no experience in restaurant management. By 2018, after selling assets and paying staff, my wife and I had only 500,000 VND left.
It didn’t end there. Just as we were crying in our tiny rented room, debt collectors sent messages. My wife had to pawn her laptop to pay 5 million VND. I knew starting a business would be hard, but dragging my whole family into hardship—I hadn’t foreseen that.
That New Year, I didn’t dare return home. Relatives asked about me, and my parents stayed silent. All I could do was whisper “I’m sorry” over the phone, while hearing my mother cry on the other end.
When Ca Men collapsed and you had just 500,000 VND left, what kept you going?
Three things: my love for my hometown, the support of customers, and the stubbornness of youth.
I remember when my shop was still in that tiny alley, it was so crowded daily that neighbors thought someone was hosting endless parties. Only later did they find out it was my little eatery. They even nicknamed the alley “Ca Men Banh Uot.” To this day, every time I visit, they still remind me of that story.
Whenever I failed, I looked back at what I lacked and went to learn it. I downsized, kept only the Phu Nhuan branch, and focused on stabilizing. Luckily, customers stayed loyal, kept supporting us, and even messaged to ask when we’d reopen. That’s how Ca Men survived. Above all, my love for Quang Tri never let me give up.
Your initial motto was “bringing Quang Tri to the city.” What turning point led you to “bringing Vietnamese cuisine to the world”?
At first, my dream was simply to “bring Quang Tri flavors into the city,” to ease homesickness for those far from home. Then one day, I tried packaging Chao Bot Ca Loc (snakehead fish tapioca porridge). Unexpectedly, that experiment opened a whole new path.
I’ll never forget a midnight call from a Vietnamese-American shop owner who ordered 500 packs in three days—and placed a second order before we could finish the first. We had to close the restaurant and focus solely on packaging for export. That was our first step into the international market.
Another time, an 80-year-old woman in the U.S. called me in tears before even eating her meal. I feared something was wrong, but she explained she was overwhelmed with emotion—my food reminded her of her mother’s cooking. Those moments made me realize Ca Men wasn’t just about flavors and quality, but also about memories.
Gradually, I nurtured a bigger dream: to bring Quang Tri specialties abroad—to let the world know about my humble but soulful homeland. I imagined one day, a president, a football star, or a famous artist might enjoy Chao Bot Ca Loc—and learn about Quang Tri.
(Photo: From “bringing Quang Tri to the city,” Thuan now dreams of bringing Vietnamese cuisine worldwide | Source: Minh Dang for Vietcetera)
After snakehead fish porridge, what other regional dishes has Ca Men introduced internationally?
Funny thing (laughs)—Chao Bot Ca Loc isn’t really porridge but noodles in thick broth. It could just as well be called Banh Canh Ca Loc. This was the first Quang Tri specialty we packaged and exported officially to tough markets like the U.S., Australia, Germany, Japan, Korea, and Taiwan. Later came other regional dishes like Bun Ca Ro, Banh Canh Cua, and Bun Mam from the Mekong Delta.
Today, our products are FDA-certified, with exports making up 80% of revenue. We sell about 300,000 units annually, with over 10 local distributors including Aeon Mall and Saigon Co.op. Despite economic challenges, securing major export orders is a positive sign, creating jobs both for our team in Ho Chi Minh City and for farmers in Quang Tri. We also operate our own factory in Hoc Mon.
Since you’re deeply familiar with Quang Tri flavors, how do you ensure authenticity when producing dishes from other regions?
Ca Men has an R&D (Research and Development) team dedicated to product development. Whenever we launch a new dish, we travel to experience it firsthand. For example, if we want to make Bun Mam, we go to the Mekong Delta to taste and learn.
Then the team follows a systematic process, step by step, until the flavor is as close to the original as possible. Because food is our core, R&D is always the most important part of preserving the soul of each regional specialty.
2025 marks Ca Men’s 10-year journey. Looking back, what are you most proud of?
What I’m proudest of is balancing profit with cultural storytelling.
For me, food is not just for enjoyment—it’s a way to tell stories about people and about our homeland to the world. On every Ca Men package, you’ll find images of landmarks: Quang Tri on Banh Canh Ca Loc, or other provinces with their iconic dishes.
The most touching thing is seeing more and more Vietnamese dishes appear on international shelves. Alongside other Vietnamese brands, Ca Men isn’t just selling products—we’re helping the world understand and appreciate the richness of Vietnamese cuisine.
(Photo: Products exported abroad, with packaging featuring regional landmarks | Source: Ca Men’s Facebook)
You once said, “My only dream is to bring my hometown’s cuisine abroad.” Now that you’ve achieved it, what’s next?
Currently, our main overseas customers are Vietnamese communities, who prefer authentic flavors. In the short term, we’ll continue serving them well.
In the long term, Ca Men hopes to reach more foreign consumers. To do so, we’ll need to adjust flavors instead of keeping them 100% traditional. Competing globally requires both sharp instincts to seize opportunities and focused strategies to avoid distractions. At the same time, we also want to strengthen our recognition in the domestic market.
(Photo: In the long run, Ca Men aims to expand to foreign consumers | Source: Minh Dang for Vietcetera)
At the end of our talk, Thuan handed each of us a Ca Men gift bag filled with specialties like Banh Canh Ca Loc, Bun Ca Ro, and Banh Canh Cua. Luckily, I tasted them before writing this article, and indeed, as Thuan said: “The shortest path to emotions is through the stomach.”
To many, Quang Tri may not be a culinary capital. But when it comes to its food, just saying “delicious” or “not” isn’t enough. Because behind the flavors lie stories—and the people who make them.
