To Han Tran’s Shank & Bone, food is a way to touch a culture
Han Tran, co-founder and co-owner of Shank & Bone
To Han Tran, co-founder and co-owner of Shank & Bone, the restaurant sits somewhere in between the old and new. Beyond classic and modern Vietnamese dishes being served, servers are more than happy to explain menu items without being “preachy, teachy or dismissive.” Even if you have never tried fish sauce before or aren’t familiar with dishes other than pho, you can give something like Cá Kho Tộ (caramelized and saucy catfish, topped with crispy pork) a try. The restaurant is a welcoming space where food is “real and authentic,” but don’t expect its quality to come cheap. The sophisticated food presented to you, to the prominent replica painting of Revolution Woman by thee Shepard Fairey of Barack Obama’s HOPE campaign posters, is by design. The restaurant, after all, is Han’s baby, creative outlet and story to tell.
It would take Han 15 years before finally taking the leap of faith to open Shank & Bone. She saw the opportunity for modern Vietnamese cuisine to be taken seriously, so she conceptualized a gathering place that would serve those passing through the North Park neighborhood in San Diego, CA. The vision was to create food that would taste like Vietnamese food, even to Vietnamese people, while being enticing to a broader audience.
Growing up as an immigrant & Restaurant Kid
If Han’s love for food were a painting, it would depict a bowl of homemade pho cooked by her mother, Thu Ha. On the table would be its beloved accompaniments: bean sprouts, Thai basil, sliced chili and lime, alongside Sriracha and Hoisin Sauce. Seeing this plate, covered in a damp paper towel that kept everything fresh, meant the rice noodle soup was on the stove. As Han got older, her mom would work more but cook less. So seeing mom’s cooking meant she was recently home. Still, the smell of pho filling her home would greet Han after school days and she knew what was going to be for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next few days—pho, of course.
Han’s mom worked long hours as a caterer before taking over and running a Vietnamese Cafe in the City Heights neighborhood for 30 years. The cafe is no longer around, but Han’s exposure to the food and service industry early on would later form the foundation of her restaurant career.
Fast forward a few decades later, Han and her husband Jay Choy owned and operated Ebisu Sushi in popular Hillcrest. At the time, Han was in her late twenties and had only been dating Jay, her then-boyfriend, now husband for a year before the two decided to buy the restaurant from a retiring couple, just as her mom did with her Vietnamese cafe before.
The sushi restaurant as Han puts it was “built one table at a time,” cozy and adored by many recurring customers. The establishment saw the couple through major life milestones, including buying their first home. But running two restaurants, as well as a busy cosmetic tattoo studio, as Han continues to do today, is tough. That’s right—at one point, Han was working three concurrent jobs, all while raising a family! After 16 dedicated years, Ebisu Sushi served its last customer in May of 2020, just as the restaurant’s lease was coming to an end. Han is now running Shank & Bone fully while continuing to take on permanent makeup clients. Being spread less thin means more time with family.
Han Tran with mom Thu Ha inside their family Vietnamese cafe in the 1990s (photo courtesy of Han Tran)
Han’s career in the restaurant industry is also her life’s calling. The world is ready for modern Vietnamese food, she would think before opening Shank & Bone in 2017.
Create a new space, create a different story
Now that Shank & Bone has Han’s undivided attention, she’s continuing to tell the story she set out to tell. For one, she has a handful of reasons why a bowl of pho can and should cost $20. When you make pho at home, Han explains, you don’t mind shelling out on good ingredients because you’re feeding your family. The pho crafted at Shank & Bone each day is like what you would find in your Vietnamese mom’s house, except only the best of the best ingredients around are used. Also, the restaurant uses quadruple the amount of bones to make their signature pho, a technique not many can rival.
Han has had her fair share of criticism from customers accustomed to paying $10 for a bowl of pho. She has been able to deal with naysayers by earning their trust and credibility through time and patience. Han isn’t here to compete with other mom-and-pop pho spots, but to offer something different to guests. Besides, dealing with customer complaints also comes with the territory, but she’s able to get over the small stuff. She’s a professional after all.
Then there’s working with your significant other, which few can hack. As Han sees it, “We work in confidence with each other… I know what I put into words won’t be betrayed by what he creates.” The two have an intuitive connection. They get each other, which is why they are also business partners.
Han stands in front of a replica painting of Revolution Woman, commissioned by artist Shepard Fairey.
“Creating Shank & Bone was my way to tell my immigrant story.”
Food is a way to touch a culture
There’s no denying running a restaurant is hard work, but for Han, this is what she’s meant to do. “I know my roots,” Han says with a sense of pride for both her culture and the business she has built. She appreciates her early years, having been born in Can Tho, a city in Southern Vietnam known for its river boat markets and cafes, and immigrating to America as a three-year-old. Each time she goes back to Vietnam, she knows she belongs in her motherland as much as she does back home in San Diego. During the day to day, she keeps her head down, but is doing so in an environment she designed at least. She knows she can’t save the world from all its worries and woes but focuses on the shiny parts instead.
“Maybe one day,” Han reflects of the times, “we will live in a world post Roe V. Wade being on the chopping blocks, where my daughters can voice their opinions freely.” At the same time, she wants to show her girls, “You can set out to create something from nothing and make it tangible.”
Han creating Shank & Bone was her own way of showing what representation can do. “Food is a way to touch a culture,” she says. A customer ordering is an opportunity to have a conversation about the tastes, textures and complexities of Vietnamese food. Through Shank & Bone, she’s able to tell her proud immigrant story one bowl of top-notch pho at a time.
“You can set out to create something from nothing and make it tangible.”
Appreciated this story? Support Han’s creative & meaningful work at Shank & Bone:
2930 University Avenue
San Diego, CA 92104