Jen’s Beauty Life

When I first moved to Australia, bánh mì wasn’t something I expected to love.
Vietnamese bread rolls filled with herbs and pickled vegetables felt unfamiliar, and at the time, not really my kind of food.

That changed after we moved to Campsie, a multicultural suburb with deep-rooted Asian communities. Food from different cultures quietly coexisted there, woven into everyday life.

My eldest son was a very picky eater back then. He avoided vegetables completely and only looked for meat. But in Campsie, there was a small Vietnamese bakery tucked into the neighbourhood.

After school, he would stop by on his way home and buy a chicken bánh mì.
At the time, it cost just $4.

It became part of his routine.
And slowly, without pressure or explanation, he started eating vegetables—carrots, cucumber, coriander—wrapped inside warm, crusty bread.

That was more than ten years ago.

The shop is still there today.
The same owner, an older Vietnamese lady, still runs it.
Whenever we visit, she recognises us and welcomes us warmly.
The price has gone up to $8, but the feeling hasn’t changed.

For me, bánh mì became more than a popular Vietnamese sandwich in Sydney. It became a reminder that food can quietly change habits, soften preferences, and create lasting memories—especially when you’re building a life in a new country.

Sometimes, the food you least expect to love in Australia becomes the one that stays with you the longest.