Vinh Loi: A Family Business Built On The Pure Love Of Tofu
As the first wave of storms from a major atmospheric river rolled into sunny Southern California in early February, Kevin Tran knew he'd be staying late the following evening after heavy winds and rainfall were expected to hit his Reseda restaurant.
The Sherman Way strip-mall location was likely to be safe from flooding — it's just that Kevin knows he has to stay about 90 minutes later than usual when it rains because for his customers, it's gonna be a soup day.
His wife and business partner Lynne tells me it takes 18 hours for the spices to come together to make their pho and lemongrass broths.
Rainy days means that they almost nearly sell out. So they have to start the overnight process again to up their reserves for the following days.
Kevin is keenly aware of his customers’ needs and ordering habits.
“Nobody wants salad on a rainy day, and nobody is eating soup on a very hot day — except for one customer." Kevin pauses for a moment.
"Victor. He's been coming to Vinh Loi for 18 years, only eats soup, even in the scorching 110-degree weather."
Vinh Loi is a star of the vegan scene in L.A. When Kevin and Lynne opened their business in 2002, they exclusively made tofu in the space, but since have branched out to offer everything from banh mi sandwiches to duck noodle salads and a curry udon stir fry. Kevin calls his cuisine "strictly Vietnamese food, but my style.”
Vinh Loi is a casual cafe. No reservations necessary. The orange and green walls display large photos of the menu items. News clippings, accolades, and recognitions from the City of Los Angeles and the California State Senate are hanging on the walls. You sit down wherever you choose, but your order is at the discretion of the chef.
The night that I come in, Kevin is wearing a t-shirt that says "I pick, you eat."
He asks me: "Brother have you eaten? — are you hungry?"
“Sure.”
“How spicy?"
“Medium.”
“How hungry?”
“Medium.”
He looks me up and down and says, "OK, I'll pick the food."
There are more than 300 items on the menu. But the food changes — every two weeks there’s something new and different.
Kevin walks into the kitchen and brings out the meal he has picked for me — mock crispy duck on top of rice and noodles with vegetables. The duck is made from wheat gluten, seitan. It’s delicious.
How they started
Kevin and Lynne’s tofu-making journey began after Kevin's grandma passed away. Their family observed a traditional 49-day Vietnamese Buddhist grieving process, which includes abstaining from meat.
During this time they were driving all over L.A. and Orange County, trying tofu from many different places. "We were tasting tofu everywhere." Lynne says. Some hits and misses, but they realized their best tofu was made in the traditional way.
Kevin said to his wife, “I love tofu, honey, — maybe we should open a factory?”
At the time Kevin had been selling high-end furniture in the South Bay and Lynne was working in the film industry. Kevin says he sold furniture “to pay student loans, but food is my passion.”
Lynne says it wasn't easy. “We make tofu in the traditional old-school way. The tofu making process is very tedious and time consuming.”
It starts with soaking the soy beans overnight, then coming back the following morning at 5 a.m. and brining it. Once ready, it has to be cooked, and then water is added back to it. “Then add whatever seasonings like their tofu block — with lemon grass. We sold it with different flavors like: plain tofu, tofu lemongrass, tofu with mushroom."
Reseda is home to a vibrant Vietnamese community, with markets, restaurants, bakeries, restaurants, doctors, accountant, notary publics, and a Buddhist temple. So it made sense to Kevin and Lynne to open Vinh Loi Tofu there.
They had been making tofu for a year and a half when one day a customer came in and asked Kevin what he was eating.
It looked good. It was his vegan version of Bun Bo Hue, a traditional Vietnamese spicy beef soup.
After that people began to ask to taste other things on the menu. "What do you mean menu? I serve tofu,” says Kevin. “Slowly one thing after another and the menu becomes massive. I love to create. I love to cook. I love to eat. I wanted to do something for my customers.”
Kevin points to a 2009 L.A. Times article and photo gallery, which used to be on the wall but it's now ostensibly out of sight on top of a fridge.
“People started coming here since the article.” A year later, the Discovery Channel came through and “basically gave me a year of free advertising.” Since then Kevin says “it's been up and up.”
Multi-generational customers
"We've been very fortunate,” Lynne says, “for the majority of our customers it's their lifestyle. It's not a trend or a fad.”
Lynne describes a multigenerational clientele. “There's beauty in a restaurant. We get to know families by name. Lot of them come in once as a date, and then later as a couple, and then later with their children.
“There are a lot of people in the vegan community, but nowadays even meat-eaters want to taste,” says Kevin. “In people's minds a block of tofu has no taste. But the minute they taste this food, they realize they can be vegan every day.”
Lynne says “we’re a strong believer in morals and values. I'm always sourcing the freshest produce. Putting our name on a product, and making sure you deliver. Focus on quality over quantity."
Kevin says "my job is to make sure that the food tastes real and healthy. You have to put your heart and soul, 110% into a restaurant."
Though Lynne says that Kevin can also be the “vegan version of Gordon Ramsay — a real pain in the ass.”
Kevin admits it. “Trust me I own my restaurant, I'm picky. I love food so much. It can't be a 9, it needs to be a 10.” If the cook’s palette is off, it’ll be wrong for the customer.
Vegan badasses
His zeal for perfection has led Kevin to other activities like triathlons. He says “cooking is my hobby — running is for when I need a change.”
He competes as the Tofu Robot, a name given to him by a customer because he does things that “only robots can do. Humans can't do it."
Kevin says he got into these massive multi-day 100-mile races because "I hung out with too many vegans, all badasses, looking good. I kinda wanted to understand my customers.”
He says he runs because "I need to know what is in people's minds. They're crazy. I have to learn from what they did. See how vegan food works on the body in those conditions."
At the end of the day Kevin says he never wants to do business with meat.
“I feel like whatever I do. I am happy. Animal is happy. People are happy because they had healthy food to eat. And making people happy makes me happy at the same time. You have nothing to lose. Everybody win/win.”
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