Vũ Nguyễn gestures toward the wide windows at Little Saigon Vietnamese restaurant on Orlando’s East Colonial Drive. Outside, cars whiz past and pedestrians amble by, many headed into Mills Market next door, where the early lunch crowd is beginning to accumulate.
“There were not that many people here,” Sơn Nguyễn says, translating in places for his older brother. “Traffic was more open. Half the area was actually American.”
There was a store that made custom rubber stamps and a debt collection business and a dog groomer.
“Also, a video store that rented kung fu and martial arts movies.”
The brothers, along with their sister Mai Huỳnh, laugh at the memory.
Over time, all three spaces were absorbed into Little Saigon’s footprint. They point out the sections, tacked on as their square footage grew.
Little Saigon opened in 1987 as one of the area’s first Vietnamese restaurants. They will close for good on Dec. 27, happy to have served Orlando for so long, happy to move into the next phase, but also happy to reflect. The plans for the property have not yet been announced.
Little Saigon co-owners Vũ Nguyễn, left, Mai Huỳnh, right, and their brother, Sơn Nguyễn, who manages the restaurant, stand at the front entrance of the longtime Orlando dining mainstay. (Rich Pope/Orlando Sentinel)
“My family did street food when we lived in Vietnam, so it felt familiar to us,” Nguyễn says, explaining how they got their entrepreneurial start. It was the siblings’ business, but their parents enjoyed coming in to pitch in, to help their children’s business thrive.
Back then, the space was just 1,000 square feet. There was no walk-in, no slicer. Meats for the pho had to be hand-cut. All, says, Nguyễn, was made and sold in the same daily cycle.
“The restaurant was open from 10 a.m. to 9 pm., but we would usually be here until 2 or 3 in the morning to prepare for the next day. Go home, sleep, come back.”
Little Saigon manager Sơn Nguyễn checks in with diners at the longtime Orlando dining mainstay on Dec. 1. (Rich Pope/Orlando Sentinel)
Huỳnh, then a young mom with a baby at home, didn’t see her little one much early on.
“The restaurant had to be my baby,” she says.
But over time, and with three or so large Vietnamese markets in the area, Little Saigon grew, becoming a regular stop for families in other cities — Miami, Tampa, Jacksonville — where the community wasn’t as large.
“They would come here on the weekends to shop, then come to the restaurant with their bags and coolers to have a hot meal before driving back home,” he remembers. “The restaurant would be full.”
Little Saigon customers Robert Forgit, left, Philip Forgit and their mother, Phyllis Forgit, dine at the longtime Orlando dining mainstay on Dec. 1. (Rich Pope/Orlando Sentinel)
Now, says Sơn Nguyễn, the streets are, as well.
“There are so many more people now,” he marvels. He’s been involved with the business since 1990.
“The area is growing unbelievably fast, and it looks better. I think it’s better for the community, too.”
His sister, Mai, looks forward to doing more to help it as she eases into retirement.
A wall of accolades awarded to Little Saigon is displayed at the entrance of the longtime Orlando dining mainstay. (Rich Pope/Orlando Sentinel)
“I am excited to have a day to go see a doctor and not have to change my appointment,” she jokes. The restaurant business is a demanding one. Philanthropy will have a kinder schedule. Her brother Vũ, too, has long been volunteering with the St. Philip Phan Van Minh Catholic Church — the area’s first Vietnamese parish.
He looks forward to doing more. And to traveling some, as well.
After 37 years in business, the brother-and-sister co-owners, Mai Huỳnh and Vũ Nguyễn, have decided to close the Mills 50 restaurant’s doors. (Rich Pope/Orlando Sentinel)
Meantime, the siblings will be happy to host Orlando, and say some goodbyes, through Dec. 27, as they recount fun stories logged over nearly 40 years, like that of then-Disney animator James Parris, a regular during his time in Orlando who did a Mulan sketch for them before heading to California. And celebrity sightings, including Jennifer Aniston and Martha Stewart (both ordered summer rolls), along with Wesley Snipes, who chatted over lunch with Sơn Nguyen.
“He had to go to court or something,” he quips.
Little Saigon co-owner Mai Huỳnh works on receipts at the counter of the longtime Orlando dining mainstay on Dec. 1. (Rich Pope/Orlando Sentinel)
There have been pro basketball players. And coaches. And lives saved (Vũ once helped a regular whose sugar went low and had to be shuttled out via ambulance; he recovered just fine). There have been friends meeting for lunch, couples for dates and families for large events.
All while their restaurant family handled the details.
“There are so many memories,” says Vũ Nguyễn. “This is like a home away from home. We all spent so much time here.”
Little Saigon manager Sơn Nguyễn helps diners check out at the longtime Orlando dining mainstay on Dec. 1. (Rich Pope/Orlando Sentinel)
They’re ready to move on, they say, but they will miss the customers.
“We live here, but we will not see them every day,” says Sơn Nguyễn. “We want them to know we appreciate them. It was all of our loyal customers who made our business grow.”
They went through good and bad times, he says, but they never worried about competition when more places opened, or in times when things got slow, because the regulars always showed up.
“We never thought we’d close, even when it was slow,” he says, looking around. “But now, we’re just ready.”
Want to reach out? Find me on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram @amydroo or on the OSFoodie Instagram account @orlando.foodie. Email: amthompson@orlandosentinel.com. For more foodie fun, join the Let’s Eat, Orlando Facebook group.