So-called “beer clubs” serve up an ambience somewhere between the conviviality of Vietnam’s traditional sidewalk watering holes and the exclusivity of its upscale restaurants. And they are a big hit with the country’s swelling middle class.
Nguyen Thai Lan has been a regular at a branch of the Vuvuzela-Beer Club since it opened near his office in Hanoi’s central Hoan Kiem district.
“The space is big and comfortable, and they have good beer,” he said, reaching out to clink mugs of Carlsberg with his two dining companions.
Across the crowded restaurant sat Luu Minh Hieu, who had come to celebrate her birthday with a group of friends. It was her first visit to this Vuvuzela restaurant, although she had previously eaten at another branch. As electronic music blared in the background, Nhu leaned over a plate of veal carpaccio to explain why the restaurant is so popular. “Vuvuzela is a new brand that everyone recognizes,” she said.
Vietnamese consumers drank 4% of the 72 billion liters of beer consumed in Asia in 2013, according to Euromonitor International, a U.K.-based market research organization, making the country the continent’s third biggest beer market after China (70%) and Japan (9%) in spite of slowing economic growth. The government is forecasting a 5.8% expansion of gross domestic product in 2014, the seventh successive year in which growth will have fallen below 7% since it peaked at 8.5% in 2007, according to the World Bank.
The relatively subdued economy does not seem to have affected Vuvuzela, which serves 6,500 customers a day in nine restaurants in Hanoi, Ho Chi Minh City and the north-central city of Vinh.
“Office workers come to Vuvuzela for a place where they can talk about business but also have fun,” said Hong Vuong Tran, division manager at Golden Gate Restaurant Group, which owns the beer club chain as well as 10 other restaurant chains, including Ashima, Sumo BBQ and Kichi Kichi. “Three years ago, they had to either drink beer in the street or go to fine dining restaurants. We created a new concept.”
While the classification conveys exclusivity, beer clubs are open to anyone. Since the first Vuvuzela launched in 2011, in Hanoi, other beer clubs have cropped up across the country. Many have strikingly similar decor. One venue that recently opened in Hue calls itself Vuvuzalo. With the exception of two letters, Vuvuzalo’s brightly colored orange and white logo is identical to that of the Vuvuzela chain. Vuvuzela itself this month added two new branches, in Dong Nai and Vung Tau, and is eyeing locations in other growing cities.
“The beer club trend has exploded in the last two years,” said Vi Phan, sales executive at MOB Beer Club in Ho Chi Minh City’s district 1. “Beer clubs create a new lifestyle for Vietnamese who used to love drinking beer and eating food on the street. They have more hygienic food, more varieties of beer and more exciting entertainment.”
Introduced to Vietnam by the French, beer became popular in the mid-20th century, after Hanoi Brewery introduced a cheap, light brew that could easily be sold at sidewalk restaurants. Beer also got help from government restrictions on hard liquor production that prompted drinkers to seek alternatives to traditional rice wine. However, these boisterous, dusty, street restaurants are increasingly at odds with the lifestyle aspirations of the growing middle class.
“As incomes have increased dramatically over the past 15 years and continue to rise rapidly, beer clubs like Vuvuzela target professional Vietnamese, predominantly males, who enjoy drinking and eating with friends and colleagues,” said Sean T. Ngo, managing director at Vietnam Franchises, a local consultancy.
Draft beer at Vuvuzela starts at 35,000 dong ($1.65), and each dish costs about 150,000 dong. This makes the beer club more expensive than a street restaurant, where a glass of light beer costs less than 10,000 dong, and a whole meal can be eaten for under 100,000 dong. But the prices stop far short of luxury restaurants, keeping Vuvuzela affordable despite the slowing economy.
The atmosphere, however, aims to attract a clientele that would not be out of place in more opulent surroundings. “We create a memorable wining and dining experience for white collar businessmen,” Phan said. As the term “wining and dining” suggests, this “experience” is now moving beyond beer. In addition to opening a branch in the nearby city of Bien Hoa, MOB is currently renovating its original location to include a Vietnamese restaurant and whiskey lounge that it describes as “sophisticated.”
Vuvuzela is one of an increasing number of restaurant chains capitalizing on the desire of Vietnam’s growing middle class for luxury experiences without a luxury price tag. These include chains such as Wrap & Roll, Pho 24 and Highlands Coffee, as well as the other restaurants run by Golden Gate, all of which rebrand meals typically consumed on the street as upscale dining experiences.
Popular dishes include hotpots at Ashima and Kichi Kichi, and barbecue at Sumo BBQ. The company recently launched City Beer Station, a beer club offering cheaper bottled beers targeted at workers who earn slightly less than Vuvuzela customers but nevertheless seek to differentiate themselves from the blue collar crowds that frequent street bars, known as bia hoi.
“They are good examples of ‘masstige’ brands — affordable luxury for the mass working class,” said Ngo, using a marketing industry term for mass-market prestige goods and services.
Cleanliness is another major selling point for beer clubs, amid growing concern about food safety. The Ministry of Industry and Trade recently sought to ban the sale of beer on the sidewalk, although this was later amended to a series of less contentious restrictions, including stipulations that beer must be stored at least 15cm from the floor and must not be served in places where the temperature is higher than 30 C.
For Vuvuzela customers, however, the social environment may be more of an enticement.
“Vuvuzela is for office people, so there is no culture clashing. Everyone has the same mindset,” Nguyen said. “When you sit down in a bia hoi there are different kinds of people around, so it can be chaotic, especially when you’ve been drinking.”
Source Nikki Asean Review.