A happy restaurant in Da Lat

Rescue, relief

Following a friend's recommendation, we visited the restaurant (let's not reveal its name for now, to maintain some mystery for our discovery and to avoid readers mistakenly thinking this is just an advertisement). It was a weekend, and coincidentally, the restaurant was hosting an outdoor music event. Perhaps that's why the atmosphere was warmer and more welcoming than usual that evening.

The restaurant's garden space is spacious, airy, and more dazzlingly decorated than the interior, making it a magical haven for the dogs to play and run around. And yes, you can't ignore the dogs – they'll be the first people you encounter when you step through the restaurant's gates. There are plenty of dogs here.

From dogs as young as two years old to those eight or nine, from local breeds to foreign breeds, there are no specific requirements for the dogs living here; they have all experienced a dark past, been rescued, and are now gradually recovering under the restaurant's care, while simultaneously awaiting new owners—among the diners who come here—to take them home.

"Recovery" is a special concept, a challenging task at the restaurant. These dogs, in addition to having suffered physical trauma, also carry emotional wounds. Jay, one of the three owners of the restaurant, told us that some dogs were beaten and abandoned by their former owners, leading to prolonged depression; others were so traumatized by beatings that even the sudden click of a camera would make them jump in fright... It is this process of healing the spirit that requires so much time and effort. And here, they will patiently wait until each dog is completely recovered.

Recovery

When we arrived in the evening, many foreign guests were sitting in the outdoor area, playing with their dogs while waiting for their food. A glittering outdoor stage was set up, ready to soon be filled with acoustic melodies from local artists. From a corner of the courtyard, we could admire the quiet town at night. Tiny twinkling lights, distant rooftops stretching into the distance, and groups of friends chatting and raising glasses of mulled wine.

Away from the hustle and bustle outside, we chose a table inside the restaurant to have more opportunities to chat with the staff.

The menu was brought to the table, and we were met with another surprise: the variety of dishes was incredible! Japanese ramen and tempura; Italian pizza and spaghetti; Mexican nachos; Indian curry; fresh vegetables and salads from Da Lat; and a range of pastries, cooked wine, craft beer, and homemade milk... Scrolling through the six pages of the menu, it felt like I'd just taken a quick stroll from Da Lat across Asia, Europe, and America, experiencing the culinary characteristics of each region. After talking to Jay, I learned that this was exactly the restaurant's intention. They wanted diners to feel no national, geographical, or regional limitations; they wanted everyone to be open, free, giving, and receiving.

After we ordered, the waiter took back the menu and instead placed a stack of "profiles" on our table for the dogs living there. It contained pictures of each dog, along with their birth dates, origins, and stories about their journeys before arriving at this place. These were all sad stories, yet told in the innocent, optimistic voices of children.

The "dog profile" booklet is always given to customers by staff after they finish ordering. This information is useful if someone is considering adopting a dog, and it's also a way for the restaurant to convey the message that: Here, dogs are treated equally as humans; they have their own background, name, language, and story.

Thanks to the stories recounted in the file, we began to observe the dogs around us with a more… understanding attitude. Looking closely into Bi's eyes—the dog lying on the sofa next to me, those innocent, wet, wary eyes—a fast-forwarded film of his dark past flashed through my mind. Suddenly, I realized that those same eyes held so much courage and resilience.

After playing with the dogs around the restaurant for a while, I returned to my seat, ready for the food that was about to be served.

"How do you feel?" my friend asked.

"Everything is beautiful," I replied, "but the waitstaff are playing with the dogs and serving people at the same time. When do they... wash their hands?"

"You're here and you still hold that kind of mindset?!" my friend suddenly said sharply. Just then, the food was brought out, interrupting a potential argument between us.

Rethink, re-evaluate

After we had devoured our delicious meal – Da Lat salad, nachos, soba noodles, curry rice, along with a few glasses of cooking wine – Jay appeared and delivered another surprise: all the dishes we had just enjoyed were… vegetarian.

Looking back, I realize that we've only been eating vegetables, beans, and root vegetables, not a single piece of meat or egg. But the harmonious and rich flavors of each dish completely captivated our taste buds and eyes, making us both unaware that we were "missing" something. We felt completely satisfied.

"The restaurant only serves vegetarian and vegan food," Jay said, "On the one hand, we want to contribute to sustainable environmental protection, and on the other hand, we want to raise awareness about stopping the slaughter of dogs and all other animals."

Like the two of us, many other diners lingered at the restaurant after their meal, either to enjoy the outdoor stage performances or simply to gather around the campfire, petting and playing with the dogs. There were people from Da Lat, Saigon, Hanoi, Asia, Europe… It was strange that even though no one initiated conversations or made acquaintances, the dogs acted as a unifying force (they ran everywhere, spreading warmth wherever they went), making me feel as if we were all living under one roof.

At 10 o'clock, the music had stopped, the fire was still burning brightly, and people stood chatting in small groups around the courtyard."Time for bed!"A young employee suddenly called out to each dog. Immediately, the puppies abandoned their game with the newly arrived guests and ran inside, one by one snuggling into the blankets and mattresses that had been laid out waiting for them. This one, this one, this one, this one… Some were as friendly as "beauty queens," some spent the whole day alone, and some still barked loudly at strangers, but at the end of the day, they returned here, eager, to lie together on a warm mattress and fall asleep.

Isn't the greatest "luxury" in life to end each day with a good night's sleep?

Looking at their eyes, which were obediently closed, I suddenly realized that the desire for happiness of these dogs and these children was just as pure as that of humans.

While paying the bill, I asked a staff member why the restaurant was called R House.The "R" sound is similar to "our," meaning "our house.""That's it," he said. He suddenly remembered his question from before the meal and felt embarrassed.

So this place can cure diseases.IIt's mine now.

Additional information

ButR HouseR House Da Lat is a vegetarian and vegan restaurant and a rescue dog shelter. It is the second branch of R House, the first in Saigon having been operating for over a year.

- R House is a home for abandoned dogs, a bridge connecting dog lovers who want to heal these unfortunate animals and heal themselves. They can adopt dogs, however, adoption requires a strict process to ensure that R House selects suitable adopters.

R House was founded by a group of three young people from the US, the Philippines, and Vietnam. Each works in a different field, from art and advertising to NGOs.

Cypress - Photo: Duck Tran