Although Hang moved her family's bun oc noodle shop to a more fashionable street in Hanoi's Old District, she still uses the same 30-year old kheu commissioned by her father when he started selling bowls of their delicate rice noodle and sea whelk soup. 

The tool's graceful heron's head curve lengthens to an extremely sharp point. The kheu is as much a family heirloom as it is an efficient kitchen utensil.


 

While other cooks nap away the hot afternoon, Hang prepares for the dinner rush. Using the curved end of the kheu, she gently taps each whelk at the spiral center of its shell. One flip of the tool and two flicks of her wrist —and there appears the tender, sweet flesh of the whelk. A large bowl of shells, rinsed clean and displayed near the noodle shop's entrance, reveal Hang’s neat handiwork.