Bản Sắc Đỏ

There is a red that belongs neither to festivals nor to slogans. It is the red of azaleas blazing in the mist of Tam Đảo, a patient color that flares from deep in the forest, waiting for the right season to bloom. Hai Củ Lạc’s companions grew up at the foot of those mountains, and they call it the proud spirit of home.

Bản Sắc Đỏ is our answer to a question we have heard many times: what can we Vietnamese make that bears our own mark? The answer does not lie in copying anyone. It lies in daring to name things in Vietnamese, daring to choose Lý-dynasty cloud motifs over borrowed patterns, daring to keep a red all our own.

In the glass, it is an Amber Ale: amber in color, with roasted malt aromas woven with caramel, a balanced taste and a smooth finish. On the label, the two peanuts embrace against a deep red background, flanked by flowers and curling clouds, as if they had just stepped out of an ancient carving.

Identity is not something to show off. It is something you carry with you, quietly, even when no one is watching. If there is an occasion for Bản Sắc Đỏ, it is the days when we want to remember who we are and where we set out from.