Planter's Punch — A Toast to the City My Mother Came Home To

Departure week. Tuesday March 14, 2026. Bobby Tran and Mai Tran flew out of George Bush Intercontinental on EVA Air at 11:35 AM. Lily and James and Linh drove us to the airport. Lily had a thermos of Vietnamese coffee for the road. James loaded the bags. Linh held Mai's hand at the curb and didn't let go for a full minute. Mai said, in Vietnamese, "Linh. I will come back." Linh nodded but didn't speak. The TSA line was long. Mai had pre-check. We got through. The flight to Taipei was twelve and a half hours. Mai slept eight of them. I slept four. We landed in Taipei, transferred, took the three-hour flight to Ho Chi Minh City. Total travel time fifteen hours and forty minutes plus the layover.

The taxi from the airport into District 1, where our hotel was, took an hour because the traffic in Saigon — and yes I called it Saigon, we call it Saigon, Mai calls it Saigon, the taxi driver called it Saigon, the people we met on the street called it Saigon — is something that has to be experienced to be believed. Motorbikes everywhere. Five lanes of motorbikes. The taxi driver navigating like a calmly confident video game player. Mai watched out the window. She didn't say anything for the entire hour. She just watched.

At the hotel, after we checked in, I took her to the rooftop bar and ordered her a cup of jasmine tea. She drank it slowly. She looked out at the city — the high rises, the lights, the hum of motorbikes that you can hear even on the twentieth floor. She said, in Vietnamese, "Bao. I am here." I said, "Yes, Ma. You are here." She said, "I want to go to bed now." I walked her back to the room. She fell asleep in fifteen minutes. I sat on the small balcony and looked at the city my mother fled from in 1975. I had a very strong feeling that my father was sitting next to me. He died in 2014. He had not been back. He never would be. But I felt him there. I sat with him. The city was loud. The room behind me was quiet. Mai was sleeping. The trip had begun.

Mai had her jasmine tea that first night — slow sips, both hands around the cup, the whole city spread out below her. I sat with her and said nothing because nothing needed to be said. But after she went to sleep and I stayed out on the balcony with my father’s ghost and the Saigon skyline, what I wanted was something with a little more weight to it, something tropical and unhurried, something that tasted like a place you’d traveled a long way to reach. A Planter’s Punch is exactly that kind of drink — layered, a little sweet, a little strong — and it’s become the thing I make now whenever I need to sit with a moment that is too big to rush through.

Planter's Punch

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 5 minutes | Servings: 1

Ingredients

• 2 oz dark rum
• 1 oz fresh orange juice
• 1 oz fresh pineapple juice
• 3/4 oz fresh lime juice
• 1/2 oz grenadine
• 1/4 oz simple syrup (adjust to taste)
• 2–3 dashes Angostura bitters
• Ice cubes, for shaking and serving
• Orange slice and maraschino cherry, for garnish

Instructions

1. Combine. Add the dark rum, orange juice, pineapple juice, lime juice, grenadine, and simple syrup to a cocktail shaker filled with ice.
2. Shake. Shake vigorously for 15–20 seconds until well chilled and combined.
3. Pour. Fill a tall glass with fresh ice and strain the punch over it.
4. Finish with bitters. Dash the Angostura bitters over the top — do not stir. They will float and mellow as you sip.
5. Garnish and serve. Add an orange slice and a maraschino cherry on the rim. Drink slowly. That’s the whole point.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 220 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 24g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 8mg