My conversation with Thuy-Tu Tran keeps getting interrupted. Every few minutes, someone walks into Muối Tiêu, her vibrant Vietnamese restaurant perched at the intersection of Carroll and Laurel avenues NW in the heart of Takoma Park. Everyone wants to know if it’s open yet.

“Not yet,” she says. “Tomorrow is our first day, so please come back.”

There’s a lot of excitement for Muối Tiêu, which joins the city’s burgeoning dining scene alongside other new additions: Cielo Rojo’s larger location, Motorkat, and Koma Café.

There’s an uncommon backstory to the Vietnamese restaurant, which begins in Minnesota, of all places. That’s where Tran grew up a second-generation American in a Vietnamese family that ate at home as if they never left Southeast Asia. Her grandmother was the queen of the kitchen and the keeper of culinary knowledge, though her mother was the chief cook on the day-to-day. Tran helped with prep work but didn’t really learn how to make the food. However, after college, while living in the San Francisco Bay Area, she began longing for her favorites—chicken pho, pickled mustard greens—so she asked her mother and grandmother to write down their recipes for the first time and share them with her.

In 2009, she relocated to the D.C. area, where her family moved a few years earlier. She worked as a fundraiser for nonprofits, including the Legal Aid Society. But her passion for food was growing. She kept entertaining the idea of working in a restaurant with the goal of perhaps, maybe, eventually opening her own.

At the end of 2014, she decided to do a stage at Doi Moi. On her first day, the sous-chef left, so the chef asked her to take over the position before she even finished service. “I was in my early 30s and about to get married,” Tran says. “I figured I should try it now before I really settle down.”

After a year at Doi Moi, she returned to her former position at the Legal Aid Society. She was hoping to start a family and needed more stability. The dream of having her own restaurant went on the back burner.

Her daughter was born two weeks before the pandemic shut the world down. When her maternity leave was over, she returned to work, but it was remote. She missed seeing people and didn’t like being stuck at home.

But there was one benefit: She was cooking a lot. All the time in the kitchen got her thinking about how cool it would be if Takoma Park, where she lived, had a Vietnamese restaurant. A friend asked if she would cater a dinner. She agreed but didn’t want to become a caterer. Despite her misgivings, she ended up doing some more catering events. They were enough to kick-start her dream of pursuing a culinary career, so she quit her job in early 2022, still unsure what her next chapter would look like.

That fall, she bought a used food truck, which launched in December as the first iteration of Muối Tiêu (pronounced “mooey tew,” meaning “salt and pepper” in Vietnamese). The truck served bánh mì sandwiches, a noodle bowl, a couple salads, a couple sides, and quickly built a loyal following. Soon after its debut, Tran discovered the space occupied by Takoma Park’s iconic Korean-minded diner, Mark’s Kitchen, was going to be available. After 32 years in business, it was closing.

The 1,600-square-foot space ticked all the boxes for Tran, but it needed a makeover. She took down a wall in the back right corner but kept the open kitchen running along the left side of the 30-seat dining room dominated by off-whites and lighter browns. A small market area at the front has a tightly curated selection of goods, including classic condiments, chips, and other snacks, pantry staples, and specialty products such as Red Boat Fish Sauce, sriracha-spiked Himalayan pink salt, and Vân Vân seasonings and spices. When the weather is nice, there is additional seating outside in the alley.

The opening menu is only eight items long: a trio of appetizers, four entrees, and a dessert. Helping bring these dishes to life is a familiar face, Tran’s mother, Minh-Le Phạm, whose presence makes the operation feel like a circle completed in the most heartwarming way.

A standout starter is bánh bèo, a dish from Central Vietnam traditionally served to the royal family. Steamed rice cakes, each served in its own little bowl, are topped with either fried ground shrimp or fried ground tofu with nước chấm sauce on the side. Tran never ate them at home, but she ordered them every time the family dined out. “It was my absolute favorite,” she says. “I could eat a whole platter of them.”

As far as larger, shareable dishes go, the bánh xèo looks like a half-moon shaped omelet. “It’s confusing, because it’s called a sizzling crepe and it’s yellow, but it has zero eggs,” says Tran.

The crispy rice pancake comes packed with pork and shrimp, or sauteed oyster mushrooms and bean sprouts. The DIY platter comes with lettuce wraps, fresh herbs, pickled daikon and carrots, cucumber rounds, and nước chấm, so you can cut a sliver of the crepe, slip it into a lettuce leaf, and add accoutrements as you see fit.

There’s also thịt kho: braised pork belly served over rice with a marinated egg, pickled mustard greens, and sauteed yu choy, accompanied by a side of porky braising liquid for drizzling.

At first, Tran resisted putting pho on the menu, but after being asked by so many customers if it would be available, she relented. It’s a good thing she did. The aromatic broth powered by cilantro, onions, and scallions is packed with noodles and shredded chicken (a vegan version is also available) with the side plate blossoming with Thai basil, bean sprouts, jalapenos, and a wedge of lime. Sriracha and hoisin are on hand for those who have the desperate need to put condiments on everything.

The lone dessert is flan, but with a twist: Vietnamese coffee powers the caramel sauce, while condensed milk sweetens the custard.

The beverage menu features a few lagers, Sapporo, some sake, several wines, and a selection of nonalcoholic bottled and canned options from Nguyen Coffee Supply, various ramune sodas, and Mogu Mogu. There’s no Vietnamese coffee—“It’s not something you actually drink with dinner,” says Tran—but it will be added to the lunch menu.

The restaurant is currently open for dinner on Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Monday. On Sundays, the restaurant only serves lunch with a modified menu that features the bánh mì sandwiches popularized on the truck, packed with the choice of braised pork belly, roast chicken, or marinated eggplant. Takeout is not available yet but is part of the long-term plan. The truck is currently parked out back, but Tran may restart it in the coming months. Right now, she’s focusing on the opening.

As I was packing up to leave, a woman pops in, her eyes sweeping the space hopefully. “Are you open?”

“Not yet,” Tran tells her with a smile. “Tomorrow is our first day, so please come back.”

“Oh, I will,” she promises. “I can’t wait.”

Muối Tiêu, 7006 Carroll Ave., Ste. A, Takoma Park (301) 289-3166. muoi-tieu.com