Rice Paper Rolls — What I Made the Night I Said Yes (Again)

The aftermath. The pop-up was a week ago and I'm still getting messages — texts, DMs on Lily's Instagram, emails through the booking website. People asking when the next one is. People asking if I'm opening a restaurant. People asking for the sauce. The numbers: $3,000 in food sales. $360 in sauce sales. $847 in tips. Total: $4,207. Minus expenses (food, permits, insurance, gas, compostable plates): roughly $2,100 profit. For one night. I make more than that in a week selling restaurant equipment. But I've never made $2,100 that felt like this. This money was earned by my hands, my fire, my food. Every dollar represents a plate that someone chose to eat and paid for because it was good. Hector said, "When's the next one?" I said, "I don't know." He said, "Bobby, you have a waitlist of 150 people and an Instagram with 2,000 followers. The next one better be soon." He's right. The momentum is real. If I wait too long, the moment passes. Tyler starts HCC next week — his automotive technology program. He's excited and trying not to show it, which is the Tyler way. He's also talking about the pop-up with a new energy: "Dad, what if we did one monthly? Like the backyard cookouts but bigger." He's thinking about scale. He's thinking like a mechanic who's figured out how to build a faster engine. Emma said, "Dad, if we do monthly pop-ups, I can refine the bao bun production. I think I can get to 80 per batch with a bigger steamer." She's optimizing. She's thinking like a chef who's been given a kitchen and wants to fill it. Lily said, "I can build a better website. And a mailing list. And a loyalty program." She's thirteen. She's thinking like a CEO. Ma said, "More pickled vegetables next time." She's thinking like Ma. I haven't decided. One pop-up was exhilarating. Monthly pop-ups are a commitment — a second job on top of my real job, with a team of family members who have their own lives and their own schedules. It's not a restaurant. But it's not nothing. Made myself a bowl of pho on Wednesday night. The six-hour version. Sat at the kitchen table and thought about what I want. Not what I should do — what I want. I want to cook for people. I want to feed strangers who become friends through a shared plate. I want my mother's spring rolls and my daughter's bao buns and my son's fire management on the same team, at the same table, serving the same food. I want the pop-up. Monthly. Starting October. I said yes. Again. Because saying yes is how everything good in my life has happened.

The pho was a solo thing—six hours, quiet kitchen, just me and the broth and the decision I already knew I was going to make. But the night after I said yes to the monthly pop-ups, I wanted something I could make with my hands that felt like the food we actually serve: fresh, bright, and built for sharing. Ma’s spring rolls have always been the anchor of our pop-up spread, and these rice paper rolls are my weeknight version—same spirit, same Vietnamese bones, just lighter and faster. Rolling them reminded me exactly why I do this: there’s something about assembling food by hand, piece by piece, that makes the work feel real.

Rice Paper Rolls

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 4 (2 rolls per person)

Ingredients

• 8 rice paper wrappers (8–9 inch round)
• 4 oz thin rice vermicelli noodles
• 1/2 lb medium shrimp, peeled, deveined, and halved lengthwise
• 1 cup shredded romaine or butter lettuce
• 1 medium carrot, julienned
• 1/2 English cucumber, julienned
• 1/2 cup fresh mint leaves
• 1/2 cup fresh cilantro leaves
• 4 green onions, halved lengthwise
• 1 tbsp sesame oil
• Salt to taste
• Dipping Sauce: 3 tbsp hoisin sauce, 1 tbsp peanut butter, 1 tbsp warm water, 1 tsp sriracha, 1 tsp lime juice, crushed peanuts for topping

Instructions

1. Cook the noodles. Bring a medium pot of water to a boil. Add rice vermicelli and cook 3–4 minutes until just tender. Drain, rinse with cold water, toss with sesame oil, and set aside.
2. Poach the shrimp. In the same pot, bring lightly salted water back to a gentle simmer. Add shrimp and cook 2–3 minutes until pink and just opaque. Drain and let cool slightly.
3. Make the dipping sauce. Whisk together hoisin, peanut butter, warm water, sriracha, and lime juice in a small bowl until smooth. Top with crushed peanuts. Set aside.
4. Prep your rolling station. Fill a wide, shallow dish with warm water. Lay out all fillings in small piles within reach: noodles, shrimp, lettuce, carrot, cucumber, mint, cilantro, and green onion.
5. Soften the wrapper. Submerge one rice paper wrapper in the warm water for 10–15 seconds until just pliable but not fully soft—it will continue to soften as you roll. Lay flat on a clean work surface.
6. Layer and roll. In the lower third of the wrapper, lay a small handful of lettuce, a pinch of noodles, 3–4 shrimp halves (pink side down for presentation), carrot, cucumber, a few mint leaves, cilantro, and half a green onion. Fold the bottom edge up over the filling, fold in the sides, then roll tightly upward to seal. Repeat with remaining wrappers.
7. Serve immediately. Arrange rolls seam-side down on a platter. Serve with hoisin-peanut dipping sauce alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 285 | Protein: 16g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 38g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 420mg