A French Evening at Le Vendôme in Vientiane, Laos—Record of Three Plates: Pizza, Carbonara, and Salad

On an evening when the breeze from the Mekong River drifted across the street, I stepped into Le Vendôme Restaurant tucked into an alley near Wat Inpeng. Whenever French cuisine co…

Vientiane Capital · Le Vendôme Restaurant

On an evening when the breeze from the Mekong River drifted across the street, I stepped into Le Vendôme Restaurant tucked into an alley near Wat Inpeng. Whenever French cuisine comes up in Vientiane conversation, this place's name invariably appears. While France's colonial legacy shows most visibly in the morning baguette stalls, restaurants that properly plate French cuisine for dinner are fewer than you'd expect. Upon entering, the interior finished in brick and wood is laid with red tablecloths, white plates, and checkered napkins. The lighting is dim, so the photos kept coming out dark. The three of us ordered a pizza, carbonara, and a salad.

Wood-Fired Pizza Topped with an Egg

The first thing that came out was the pizza on a wooden board. It looked to be about 30cm in diameter, with the crust edges puffed up white—thick enough to be slightly springy when pressed. Topped with ham, mushrooms, and mozzarella, with a whole egg cracked in the center and baked. The yolk was still runny, jiggling slightly. This is a common approach in France and Belgium, so it's a bit unfamiliar at first glance. The proper way to eat it is to burst the yolk with a knife, spread it over the cheese, and then cut into pieces.

Wood-fired pizza on a wooden board with ham and mushrooms covering the cheese, a soft-cooked egg yolk in the center
Pizza baked with an egg in the center. We burst the yolk with a knife and mixed it into the cheese.

The crust is thin but doesn't sag. A single slice bends only slightly at the tip. The charred spots scattered on the bottom suggest the oven temperature runs quite high. The tomato sauce doesn't lead with acidity—it's fairly mild, easy enough to share with children. The only disappointment was the ham. While it was sliced thick, the salty processed-meat flavor was strong, lacking the quality of European prosciutto or pancetta. Given Laos's logistics situation, this is hardly surprising.

Carbonara—You Mix the Raw Yolk Yourself

The spaghetti carbonara we ordered came in a wide, shallow white pasta bowl. It's far thinner than the thick cream sauce common in Korea. The sauce pools thickly enough to gather at the plate's bottom, and a single raw yolk sits on top. Eating it as-is tastes bland—the proper technique is to burst the yolk with your fork and mix it throughout the pasta. Once mixed, the sauce visibly thickens and turns golden.

Creamy spaghetti carbonara in a white bowl, mixed with ham, mushroom pieces, and chopped scallions, with a raw yolk on top
Raw yolk over the noodles. Once you burst and mix it with a fork, the sauce becomes proper carbonara.

The noodles are cooked all the way through—don't expect al dente. The ham was sliced thin and scattered throughout, and mushrooms were generously added. What stood out was the chopped scallions. Adding scallions to European pasta isn't common, but it clearly cuts through the richness of the cream. I figured it was a habit picked up in Southeast Asian kitchens, but eating it, the combination actually works better. It's better to grind fresh pepper at the table—the base seasoning is on the mild side.

ဒစ်ဂျစ်တယ် လူဝင်မှုကြီးကြပ်ရေး ဖောင် (LDIF) လျှောက်ရန်

Salad and Sides—Garlic Bread and Shrimp Chips

The third plate was a salad arranged on a rectangular dish: romaine and butter lettuce stacked like a mountain, topped with radish sprouts. Diced ham was scattered on top, then dressed with a yellow mustard vinaigrette. This dressing is tart-sweet, so you keep reaching for the vegetables. Cheese-topped baguette slices are placed on both sides of the plate, and a large shrimp chip sits on the right. This fusion of French plating with Southeast Asian shrimp chips is distinctly of this place.

Green salad on a rectangular white plate with radish sprouts, diced ham, and yellow mustard dressing, accompanied by cheese-topped baguette slices and a large shrimp chip
Mustard-dressed salad with cheese baguette and shrimp chip. The plate in back has already had one portion removed.

The portion was generous enough for three to share. You can see in the back plate what was already portioned off—from that one plate we got three full servings to the front. The fact that the greens weren't wilted and stayed fresh is worth noting. In Vientiane, fresh vegetables vary wildly between establishments, so seeing them in this condition was reassuring.

Price and Atmosphere—Why "Fine Dining" Feels Fair

The bill was genuinely impressive. We ordered three plates and drinks, and it came in well under what I'd budgeted for a Western restaurant. In Bangkok or Hanoi, the same setting and similar plates would have cost considerably more. Laos's prices aren't generally cheaper than Thailand's, but in this category of Western fine dining, it's clearly advantageous. Eating from a tableclothed table, with proper cutlery and pizza fresh from the oven at this price point—that's only possible in Vientiane. Check current prices on-site, as the menu is revised frequently.

But it's worth recalibrating expectations before you go. Don't imagine a transplanted Parisian bistro—you'll be disappointed. The ingredients represent the best they can source locally, prepared French-style. Understanding that gap beforehand makes satisfaction much higher.

Location and Directions

It's about a 5-minute walk behind Wat Inpeng temple, from Nam Pu fountain square. Even from the Mekong promenade, it's only a couple of alleys in. During the day, the sign isn't very visible, but in the evening the interior lights spill onto the street and it's easy to spot. If you take a tuk-tuk, it's faster to give the driver the temple name. Giving only the restaurant name sometimes drew blank stares.

Things Worth Knowing Before You Go

If starting your first evening in Vientiane with larb or khao pi yak is the classic move, save this place for the middle of your trip when your palate's getting a little tired. That moment of bursting the yolk and mixing it into the noodles ended up being the memory that stayed with me longest from this Laos trip.

ဆက်လက်ဖတ်ရှုရန်