This bright storefront brings banh mi, Vietnamese sandwiches of pâté and ham or chicken on baguettes, to this area of Midtown ($6.95 to $7.75); (212) 681-1122.

At 5 Ninth, the meatpacking district hot spot where he runs the kitchen, banh mi, a Vietnamese sandwich, shares the menu with côte de boeuf.

While originally famous for selling bánh mì (Vietnamese sandwiches), the chain has expanded its offering to many other goods, including packaged spring rolls, specialty drinks, desserts, and other food-to-go items.

All the Vietnamese sandwiches except for the Vegetarian sandwich come with onions, house pickles, jalapeños, cilantro, salt, pepper.

They've solved the mystery of how Vietnamese sandwiches, objects of foodie cult worship, soak up so many rich juices: rice flour, baking powder and malt syrup in the dough.

Since food is so much a part of a country's heritage, a cafeteria-style cafe just inside the West 77th Street entrance will serve summer rolls, sugar cane shrimp, Vietnamese sandwiches and the noodle soup called pho (pronounced fuh), right.

Part of the current bánh mì (Vietnamese sandwich) obsession is this little joint, which puts its own spin on what is traditionally a stack of smoked, sliced pork piled high with fresh cucumbers, pickled carrots and hot sauce on a baguette.

You ordinarily won't find Vietnamese sandwiches, or banh mi, in restaurants, though.

And their instructions for making Mekong subs will solve an aching problem for John Thorne - how to duplicate the Vietnamese sandwiches he discovered for sale near his Northampton home, with their mysteriously good meaty spread, here revealed to be cinnamon-spiked pate.

Such deliberate compositions are characteristic of the Southeast Asian kitchen, a quality also evident in Nem's other specialty, Vietnamese sandwiches.