Chef Ni Nguyen
"Being in the hospitality industry means that our service to our guests does not stop when they leave our restaurant, but continues in our community activism, and how we use our platform to speak up and build a stronger community."
Evan Dale // June 28, 2023
There’s a blue hardwood classics Kobe jersey framed in the entrance skylight of Sap Sua. A copy of Mamba Mentality adorns the backbar. Just a few seconds into a conversation with Chef and Owner, Ni Nguyen – who together with his wife, co-owner, and co-chef, Anna, run the beloved Vietnamese eatery in Denver – it’s clear that it’s more Bryant’s intensive pursuit of greatness and unwavering leadership – not necessarily Chef Ni’s Southern California upbringing – that’s the driving factor in the ornamentation of Kobe merch in an otherwise delicately designed and finely detailed restaurant.
A few minutes of speaking with Ni, and it becomes even clearer that much of his experience and ethos work in collaborative triangulation. Vietnamese roots, LA upbringing, and Denver success. Trailblazing kitchen and bar programs, restaurant camaraderie, and community activism. There’s even a Vietnamese lager on the menu called 333, which, it should be said, is best poured over ice. All of these notions inform the others: dialing the menus, building a healthy and sustainable work environment in an otherwise hard-knocks industry, and speaking out for larger change throughout the institutions that have perpetuated unfair and even abusive practices for as long as hospitality has existed. Chef Ni sees the relationships between all aspects of the industry, and has a vision that addressing the prominent issues top-down can only yield higher standards, and subsequently, better restaurants.
In Denver, Sap Sua is one of the best, so we caught up with Chef Ni about his background, his path, his outspoken calls for change, the menu, and what he’s listening to when he’s the first in for prep (plus a whole lot more).
RINGLEADER: You two are one of those pandemic-era stories where the unpredictable changes of pace in 2020 and a subsequent path cut short opened an opportunity to pursue something truly your own. That still takes a lot of courage, though, especially with the LA pursuits you had in the works at the time put on hold. What was that conversation like when you really committed to moving to Denver to see where it would take you?
Ni: That conversation was kind of tricky, but I just had this feeling in my heart that I couldn't go back to the work that we had been doing for the past two years, trying to open up this restaurant for a chef where we were gonna be co-executive chefs. We'd been working on the project for two years, and were about six weeks to opening when we got furloughed because of Covid. Everything shut down. Somewhere between baking banana bread and growing scallions in the windowsill, I just had this thought, “if we don't move and follow our dream now, I don't think we'll have the energy or the time and space to figure it out later on."
It's a pretty big Decision to go from something that’s stable – you have an income, you have a job, you can grow alongside amazing chefs – but it just didn't feel like what I wanted to do. Choosing the road less traveled is always something that Anna and I have a heart for. I brought it up to her, and we started playing restaurant in the house. Eventually, we decided that Denver would be the perfect place to take this concept because we felt like we could offer so much representation to the AAPI community here. Being at the forefront of that was something that we really wanted to be a part of. Not knowing the unknown is so scary, but I feel like sometimes the scariest decisions in life yield more happiness in the long run.
RINGLEADER: What was it like leaving LA? When it came to the restaurant industry, the community, and the culture in particular, what opportunities did you see ahead of you?
Ni: We were in LA for about seven years. I'm from Orange County, so it's just home, you know? The food there is incredible and so diverse. That's part of the reason why we wanted to come to Denver, to open the restaurant, because it’s not oversaturated, and it just felt like California and Los Angeles already have a lot of representation. I think when we opened in Denver, we really wanted to open the door for everyone else that comes after us, just like the chefs here who did so before for us. It’s my responsibility to be able to do the same – to hold the door open for everyone else to come through after me. And we thought it would stand to make more of an impact in the difference if we opened up shop in a place that wasn't yet so heavily represented.
RINGLEADER: Like anything in the industry – or anything worth pursuing, especially independently – it doesn’t happen overnight. When you moved, you were both hustling with full-time jobs while trying to plan for your own pursuits. On one hand, was working for a concept like Pho King Rapidos something that helped spur your creativity when it came to the design of your own menu?
Ni: Yeah, they're some of our best friends now. When we moved here, while looking for a space and while doing all the legwork and background work to open up a restaurant, we were financially strapped, so I hit them up and was like, “hey can I just get a few hours a week on the truck? I just need to make some money so that we can stay up.” For a year and some change, I was cutting bread, slapping mayo, toasting that shit up, making fire-ass sandwiches off of the truck. You know what I mean, but being in the atmosphere of the hustle that he's doing in his own right, and collaborating and talking about what it's like to run businesses as Asian Americans in a predominantly white city, navigating those experiences together – it gave me so much confidence to be able to do it on my own. Just seeing how Long as a Colorado native knows how the city operates, and being able to see how he navigated it gave me confidence to be able to do it in my own right. He was one of the most pivotal people I could've met out here. Seeing how resilient he is and seeing the type of food that he was unapologetic about – that fired me up. I was like, "okay then I'm gonna do that. I wanna do the same thing."
These days I don't find myself hanging out with big name chefs. I like hanging out with the up-and-comers. The chefs who are on the precipice of getting it. There's something about that energy that’s so fucking infectious. I never wanna find myself in a place of complacency and oftentimes I find these chefs with bigger names forget what it's like to be a cook. I feel so far removed from that shit. I wanna be surrounded by people who are grindin, who don't have the capital to open up a restaurant yet, so they're doing pop-ups like how we did when we started. There’s this hunger and this drive. That’s the type of energy I like to surround myself with. Constantly learning, constantly growing, constantly trying to figure out how to do it better.
RINGLEADER: How do you think your experience working while planning Sap Sua eventually informed it?
Ni: The camaraderie. Being on a truck with a small crew, everyone is doing all the work, and that’s the way a restaurant should operate, too. It’s not just in the kitchen, but everywhere. Making sure that the team works together. We have everyone on our staff’s name listed on the menu because it takes every single person in this building working at maximum efficiency. It takes everyone to make this restaurant what it is, from the host to the dishwasher to the bartenders to the cooks. It takes everyone to be able to make this thing run, so that's why we list everybody at the bottom of the menu. That's the type of camaraderie and the type of culture we want to cultivate here.
We wanted to open up the kind of restaurant that we've always wanted to work at. A kind kitchen culture where there's space for cooks to feel like they can experiment and fail without expecting perfection, while still striving for it. It's the philosophy that you'll never arrive at perfection, but if you keep working towards that perfection, you know you can get as close as possible. Constantly evolving and growing, so that's something we really try to instill in our staff.
RINGLEADER: After all the hurdles, how did it feel when Sap Sua finally opened in 2023?
Ni: It was a stressful and beautiful thing. It was like we opened one day and then we just never stopped. I was in a place of vulnerability, in a place of like, “holy shit. I've never done this before. How did I even get here?” It was so many emotions all mixing into one. It feels like 10 years ago, and it also feels like yesterday. There was a sense of relief and accomplishment in a way where it's like we finally crossed the finish line just to get to the next starting line. And those two journeys are very different from going to look for a space, talking to landlords, trying to passionately sell your dreams to someone. I've been fucking dreaming of this. I've been working for this moment. I have such a vision for this. And then suddenly you're in charge of 26 other people, managing emotions on a day-to-day basis, ensuring that they have a livable wage, that the culture that they work in is supportive, is kind. It's been quite a journey to get here, but this month will be three years.
RINGLEADER: Three years is something to be proud of.
Ni: We're booked pretty heavily out throughout a given week, so we feel very blessed. I never take a full restaurant for granted. I never take walking in the dining room at 8 PM and seeing it loud and bustling and people laughing and enjoying their night. I never take those moments for granted.
RINGLEADER: It seems like the restaurant found pretty immediate success. Why do you think it connected so well with your guests?
Ni: I think a lot of it had to do with our storytelling. When we first opened, I had so much imposter syndrome. I was like, “if I that's how I feel then why don't I lean into it? Why don't I lean into that vulnerable feeling of being a first-time business owner, and really let people in on the journey – let them see how scary it feels, how hard it is, but then also the success that can come.” The impact that it could've had on another Asian chef or whoever out there is following along to our journey to inspire them to hopefully one day do the same, because they see that it's possible. People love to talk about successes and the awards and all these things that will eventually come. Talking about the process, the sleepless nights, the fucking imposter syndrome has really connected with people.
It takes ten years to be an overnight success. People don't see the sacrifice and the pain and the work it took before we could even open up a restaurant. All the little bricks that we had to place perfectly. When people hype up the immediacy of success, they’re discounting all those sleepless nights, the grind, all the fucking 17 hour shifts. They discount those moments, but in my head, we understand what we're providing for guests, and we understand who we are and what our values are. Being rooted in those values has gotta be the thing that sets you apart from other businesses. Your value, what you stand for, and what you speak on, and how you navigate being a member of your community, but also being a voice that leads your community. Being in the hospitality industry means that our service to our guests does not stop when they leave our restaurant, but continues in our community activism, and how we use our platform to speak up and build a stronger community.
RINGLEADER: How do you think hospitality is beginning to change?
Ni: First and foremost, I think toxic workplaces, the days of screaming at chefs and abusing employees, whether it be sexual abuse or verbal abuse. I think those days are done.
We have all these headlining examples like René Redzepi and Noma. And I think also institutions like the James Beard Foundation or Michelin or World’s 50 best, they play a huge part in this moment. Who they uplift, who they highlight, who they are giving awards to? If they continually give awards to bad actors and abusers, that only continues to perpetuate these oppressive systems, and if you're not uplifting or amplifying the message of chefs who are actually trying to make a change in our industry, you're a part of the problem. You're actually the problem because these institutions - people look at them to understand what's going on in our industry. They look at them as a leading voice, so when those institutions fail us, where do we go? Who do we look towards for guidance? Who do we look to for acceptance anymore? Who is actually out there doing good for their community? We need to find those chefs, we need to amplify those voices, and we need to do away with the toxicity. This PR-driven award season is just a circle jerk.
RINGLEADER: Let’s stay on community. From the outside, it can seem like the restaurant industry is more tight-knit than others, and in many ways – especially as the industry has grown, matured, and modernized – it can be. And yet in as many ways, that community fails itself a lot more often than it should. Denver hasn’t been immune. There have been a number of scandals at the fault of chefs and owners in positions of power in recent years. What do you think still needs to be rooted out from the way the industry operates?
Ni: There are multiple chefs whose reputations have been rightfully damaged by these institutions perpetuating bad behavior. There are also multiple chefs whose reputations and standing in the industry have been wrongfully damaged by speaking out against bad behavior and against these institutions. We need to create a coalition of journalists and food writers, and anyone in the industry whose values are aligned, who actually want to champion real chefs making real impacts. If we create our own coalition that helps one another, that can act as resources for one another, and create a huge network of like-minded, value-aligned chefs, journalists, and writers, they can act as one voice. I think a movement centered around one singular person can't make as much of an impact, but speaking as a group to demand change, and to have a mission to actually change the industry – that can have a huge effect.
RINGLEADER: And how do you think independent chefs like yourself can make the kind of impact that can push the institution of food and beverage to evolve?
Ni: I was reading this thing about invisible pioneers, and how basically these are the early professionals that are making value-aligned choices in the field. Early invisible pioneers become an anchor for others. Their visibility lowers the risk for the next wave. If I can speak out on the things that need to be spoken about, I can be loud as hell, and unapologetic as hell, I might inspire somebody else to do the same, who has been in the same situation, who maybe before felt isolated and alone. When you go against big institutions like this, you can feel helpless as fuck, so if I can be a voice that can help encourage others to tell their story, that coalition will be here sooner than you know.
RINGLEADER: Back to the things you’re contributing to Denver and to the industry on a daily basis, Sap Sua has found an ability to tether the more traditional roots of its cuisine to something much more experimental and unique. What food and experiences from your pre-chef life lent themselves to where you’d eventually take the menu?
Ni: I grew up in Orange County, California where there’s a huge Vietnamese population. Growing up I would go eat at amazing Vietnamese spots but then we would go to In-N-Out or Applebee's and shit like that. So the first-generation Vietnamese experience is the story I'm trying to tell with the food. The intersectionality between being Vietnamese but also growing up in America. I oftentimes try to take traditional dishes that I remember eating growing up, things that my mom would cook, and then throwing a little California fuck boy spin on it. I try to inject as much of my own personality into not only food, but the space, the vibe. I just want people to be able to let their hair down, be themselves, and eat.
I was a huge nerd in high school, I didn't have a lot of friends, and I felt like an outsider type shit, so when people come to the restaurant, I want the opposite of that experience. I like letting people be themselves, and be in this third space that makes an impact.
RINGLEADER: And what menu items at Sap Sua are the best representations the experimental identity that separates it from those roots?
Ni: The newest dish right now is the pork jowl. That was a dish I had in Vietnam, and it was pork utters marinated with fermented bean curd, condensed milk, fish sauce, and lemongrass, and then we ate it with charred okra. It was amazing, so that's something I want to bring home with me from Vietnam. For our version of it, we sous vide the pork jowl for 24 hours with scallion, cilantro, and fish sauce. And then we char it on the grill, serve it with grilled okra as well, all on top of fermented bean curd sauce and crispy leeks. I think that is the direction I see our food really going. It's a little more in your face with flavor, very intentional, and very much getting back to our roots. I think this dish is like the equivalent of what the cabbage was when we first opened.
RINGLEADER: Speaking to roots, and because music plays such an important role in the restaurant industry, what are you playing on the speakers when you’re the first one in for prep in the morning? What’s your go-to sound?
Ni: I'm putting on The Weeknd, I'm putting on Trilogy, and I'm putting it on shuffle. Sad boy R&B, that's my shit right there.
RINGLEADER: And what station are we putting on to soundtrack a Sap Sua Friday dinner service? What best caters to the vibe you’re curating?
Ni: It’s Been Awful by Isaiah Rashad. From beginning to end, that whole thing is just fire, bro.
RINGLEADER: And lastly, when you’re cooking at home, removed from the restaurant, what are you listening to?
Ni: Paul Simon – Graceland – that entire album. I think it's important to have range when you're a creative.
