This salt foam-topped Vietnamese coffee has South Street all abuzz

These are boom times for fans of Vietnamese food in Philadelphia, where the past year has seen several worthy new entries, from cozy Pho Skyline in the Italian Market (for great pho, of course) to the contemporary vibes of Banh off Rittenhouse Square (try the crispy banh khot and bún chả hà nội grilled pork with rice noodles) and Drip Vietnamese Coffee in Chinatown, plus a new fusion brunch spot at Hannah K’s, the cheerful Point Breeze spin-off of Huyen Thai Dinh’s hit, the Breakfast Den.

The new place I’m buzzing about most right now, though, is Saigon Grace Cafe — especially because of its coffee. The food at this low-key new entry to South Street West has a distinctive personality due to the multicultural collaboration between co-owners Khai Tran, who was born in Vietnam but raised in Philly, and Fernando Cristobol, a Mexico City native. The zesty avocado-tomatillo dip, which is much thinner than guacamole, comes with paper-thin taro chips; the tostadas are topped with Vietnamese grilled meat; and the birria, made to Sandoval’s family recipe, arrives inside a bowl of ramen. It’s all plenty tasty.

Then I took a sip of the Vietnamese iced coffee and did a genuine double take. Even mixed with the typical condensed milk, it was richer, bolder, and, more profound than almost any other I’ve tasted in Philadelphia. The reason is twofold: origin and process.

The coffee is grown by the family of Tran’s wife, Trinh Nguyen. Her mother, Ha Nguyen, cultivates a 5-acre plantation of robusta coffee beans in Đắk Lắk, a mountainous province in the central highlands of Vietnam known for its coffee production. The beans are harvested, roasted in their village, Buon Ho, then blended with beans grown by other family members and shipped directly to the cafe in Philadelphia.

Trinh works her magic behind Saigon Grace’s counter, slow-brewing the deeply roasted coffee through giant Vietnamese phin drip filters. It requires serious patience — nearly four hours for a two-liter glass jug to fill with coffee. And that’s only the beginning: The filled jugs you may see on the counter at any given time are not served until they’ve had a full 24 hours to rest. The slow-paced drip contributes to the smoothness of the brew, but the resting period is essential for the coffee’s flavors to marry and achieve its viscous texture and subtle complexity, says Tran, a process that he likens to “the slow fermentation of a pizza dough.”

The method pays off with a coffee that isn’t simply an icy jolt of chocolatey, smoky, bittersweet caffeine (robusta beans can deliver 1.5 times more caffeine than arabica beans). It anchors an irresistibly magnetic, slurp-to-the-bottom kind of indulgence. Saigon Grace takes it to another level still by serving it “salt foam” style, topping the drink with an inch-thick lid of rich whipped cream dusted with salt.

Salt foam is a common variation in Vietnamese coffee shops, such as Càphê Roasters in Kensington, a standard-bearer that roasts its own beans and offers its own creative drink combos. But thoughtful details make Saigon Grace’s take singular. For instance, seasoning the whipped heavy cream with pink Himalayan salt allows the dense pouf to hold its texture noticeably better than less expensive salts. That endurance gives you a proper dairy mustache each time you lean in for a sip, says Tran, and that, in turn, unlocks the dynamic layers of the drink. First comes the wave of bold dark coffee. Then a wash of sweetness from the condensed milk that coats your tongue with an almost caramel richness. Finally, as you lick that creamy froth off your top lip, the salty cream reveals a savory side of coffee beans I’ve rarely tasted.

Now I must have another, and can only agree when Tran states the obvious: “The foam is the way to go.”

Salt foam Vietnamese coffee, $6, Saigon Grace Cafe, 1516 South St., Philadelphia, PA 19146, 445-223-2275; saigongracecafe.com