The Journey from Paris to Si Dining

Some journeys begin with a destination.

Others begin with a question.

Chef Alessio Rasom grew up in Italy’s Fassa Valley, surrounded by the peaks of the Dolomites that shaped his childhood. Yet even then, part of him was looking beyond the mountains, toward somewhere he couldn’t quite name.

Years later, that curiosity became a journey he would share with Bình, who would later become his wife. Together, they left Paris on bicycles.

There was no return ticket, no planned date to come home. Just two bicycles, a small tent, a water filter, and the belief that the road would eventually lead them where they needed to be.

“I left without thinking about coming back,” he says. “Where I ended up was almost accidental.”

After nearly a year crossing Europe and Central Asia, that journey brought them to Vietnam.

Years later, home is no longer Val di Fassa beneath the Dolomites. Home is Da Nang, the city where Si Dining was born.

A Childhood That Began in a Bakery

Alessio grew up in a family where the kitchen was the center of everything.

His grandfather baked bread. His father was a chef.

After an avalanche took the life of the family’s baker, his father was forced to start over. He had never trained as a baker, never worked dough before, yet he stepped into the bakery and learned everything from scratch with his own hands.

Watching his father and grandfather rebuild a livelihood from nothing taught Alessio a simple lesson early in life: risk isn’t something to avoid. It’s something you learn to live with.

At sixteen, he left traditional school to study hospitality. Days were spent in class, evenings in the bakery, weekends catering weddings and events.

Long shifts, criticism, pressure, and exhaustion arrived early.

Then one evening, after service, a colleague said something that stayed with him.

“You did well today. See you tomorrow.”

Just one sentence.

Sometimes that’s enough to change the direction of a life.

Michelin Taught Technique. The Road Taught Everything Else.

Alessio’s career eventually took him to Milan, where he worked with Chef Andrea Berton during the years the restaurant earned its Michelin stars.

Later came Mirazur in Menton, one of the world’s most influential restaurants, where he learned precision, seasonality, and discipline down to the smallest detail.

Those kitchens shaped him as a chef.

Travel shaped him as a person.

During a trip to Peru, he met Bình, a Vietnamese woman living in Paris. They fell in love, and somewhere along the way came an idea that sounded slightly unreasonable: cycling from France to Vietnam.

The idea appeared almost by chance at a travel fair.

Turning it into reality took four years of preparation.

When they were finally ready, they left.

The Shortest Flight of His Life

Nearly a year into the journey, while crossing Kyrgyzstan, Alessio received news that his mother had become seriously ill.

He flew back to Italy immediately.

“In a few hours on a plane, I erased a distance that had taken me almost a year to cycle.”

Ten days later, she passed away.

Before she died, she asked her son for one thing: go back and finish the journey.

He kept that promise.

After the funeral, he and his wife returned to the exact place where they had stopped, climbed back onto their bicycles, and continued east until they reached Vietnam.

By then, it was no longer just a trip. It was a promise.

Vietnam Changed the Way He Sees Food

What made Alessio stay wasn’t only the people or the pace of life.

It was the energy of a country that seemed constantly in motion.

“People here always want to build something better,” he says.

He often compares it this way:

“In Italy, if people have nine, they invest three. In Vietnam, if they have nine, they invest twelve, because they believe they’ll find a way.”

That optimism convinced him to start over.

His first restaurant was called El Peck, meaning the baker in Ladin, a tribute to his family and childhood.

It had only eighteen seats.

Then Covid arrived.

Some years, the restaurant was open for only a few months. Almost everything disappeared.

So he started again.

Why Si Dining Exists

If the bicycle journey changed where Alessio lived, Vietnam changed how he cooks.

“I realized I was a chef, but I didn’t truly understand where my ingredients came from.”

That question became the foundation of Si Dining.

Instead of bringing a European model to Vietnam, he chose the opposite approach.

He began visiting farmers, fishermen, producers, and artisans. He traveled more, listened more, and learned to understand the land before thinking about the dish.

That’s why every menu at Si Dining begins with a journey.

Sometimes it starts in the mountains of Northern Vietnam, with chẩm chéo and wild herbs that have been used for generations.

Sometimes it begins along the central coast, exploring seaweed, seafood, and traditional fish sauce making.

Sometimes it leads to a small farm where years of patient work have transformed an ingredient into something extraordinary.

The techniques may carry a European spirit.

But the stories always begin in Vietnam.

That is why the menu keeps changing with the seasons, the regions, and the people behind the ingredients.

More Than Dinner

Ask Alessio what makes him proudest, and he rarely talks about awards.

He talks about people.

He believes a restaurant should be more than a place that serves food. It should be a place where people grow.

At Si Dining, the team continues learning long after joining the restaurant, from technical skills and English to leadership and professional development. Some have completely changed the course of their lives in just a few years.

Because for him, a dish only truly matters when the people behind it are growing too.

The Journey Continues

Looking back, Alessio often says the bicycle journey never really ended.

The bicycle simply stopped in Da Nang.

The rest of the journey continues through trips to find ingredients, conversations with farmers, new seasonal menus, and the daily work happening inside the kitchen at Si Dining.

Perhaps that is the most beautiful thing the journey left behind.

Not how far he traveled.

But he found a place where he belonged.

And from that place, every dish became another way of continuing the story.