In Thailand, we had plenty of great meals on the street for next to free. But the best food we had was in the city’s finest restaurants. The food that came out of the best kitchens was more refined, more complex and just more delicious — which is not to say that it sacrificed tradition. Rather, it exemplified the best that tradition can create.

But in Hanoi, as we explored the culinary scene online and in our guidebooks, we quickly began to discover that the city’s most upscale restaurants, and even many midrange ones, served internationalized food, rather than just straight Vietnamese. So we had to fall back on our old ways, prowling the street scene. In Hanoi, there are lots of little street stalls serving fantastic traditional Vietnamese food. Each specializes in just one dish, like fish soup or crab spring rolls.

We tried two of these, each serving a variant of bún, the Vietnamese noodle dish. The first specialized in bún chả, crispy pork strips over vermicelli with pork spring rolls. After we took our seats in the rather spartan little restaurant, we were given a large plate of vermicelli noodles, a plant of mint and other tasty greens, and a bowl of chili and garlic to customize the flavor.

Each of us was then given a bowl of pork strips in the soup that gives the dish its distinctively Vietnamese flavor, and we shared a plate of the spring rolls. We each had little empty bowls, as well, in which we combined all the ingredients to create the fusion of textures that is bún.

At the other stall we tried, we had bún bò nam bộ, the beef version of the dish which we had also had at KOTO. This dish was much less soupy than bun cha, flavored with more of a sauce.

Both dishes were fantastic — and again, very different from Thai cuisine. Each of these dishes were much more composed of their component parts than most Thai dishes. In the case of the bún chả, we even literally assembled the parts ourselves, then carefully scooping some noodles, greens and meat into each bite. This made for a very different experience, one that I enjoyed immensely. In both restaurants, each of our entrees cost about $4, which was almost certainly the foreigner rate.

As if to validate the superiority of street food in Hanoi, Quan An Ngon, which serves a selection of common street foods in a slightly less street-like atmosphere, is one of the most highly rated restaurants in the city, despite being extremely affordable. Our meal there shared the same composed nature with our street meals, even requiring some instruction before we were permitted to chow down.

We ordered chicken phở and fresh shrimp spring rolls. The phở arrived ready to eat, but the waiter decided I needed a tutorial on how to assemble the spring rolls from the plates of noodles, shrimp cakes, vegetables, sauce and rice paper wraps that lay before me.

The shrimp wraps were delicious, not least because the rice paper, which is so simple as to be nearly tasteless, really let the ingredients inside shine. The phở, which probably was state of the art, wasn’t really either of our taste (I know, I know).

The meals I will remember most in Thailand were in fancy restaurants, while the meals I’ll remember from Vietnam were all simple street meals. I think that speaks to the difference between the two cuisines, too — one is about cooking and preparation, and one is about ingredients and composition. Both were an absolute treat to sample.