It’s likely that when you read “Key Lime Pie”, an image pops into your head of a fluorescent green pudding, topped with great daubs of whipped cream. Well that’s exactly what I was expecting when I read those words on Boulangerie de Saigon’s menu. But searching up and down their display cabinet, I saw no such eyesore. Instead, I was presented with this stunning pie slice, slightly golden in colour, and adorned with torched meringue.
Being honest, to say I was expecting to find this classic American dessert in a Vietnamese cafe would be lying. But whether intentional or not, I get the joke. The Americans do have a history in Vietnam, after all.
Right off the bat, I was most impressed by the fact that the pie didn’t have the slightest green tinge. As the official state pie of Florida, it can be found all over the Florida Keys, and has many variations when it comes to the topping and pie crust (more on that later). Crucially though, the filling of an authentic key lime pie is light yellow, with not a drop of green food colouring in sight. Boulangerie de Saigon’s pie ticked that box.
And it only gets better. The filling hit the jackpot in texture: smooth and creamy, but not overwhelmingly heavy. And the tart, cheek-sucking sharpness that often accompanies key lime pie was instead a light, citrusy kiss, blended seamlessly into every bite.

The history of key lime pie is much-contested, and many claim it to have originated in different places. One popular theory is that a lady named ‘Aunt Sally’ first created the pudding in the late 1800s. Another is that the condensed milk, lime juice and egg yolk filling was born from the limited rations of the period’s sponge fishermen. One thing’s for sure though, this pie is American, through-and-through.
Another disputed point is whether the base should be pastry- or Graham cracker-based, my pie consisting of the latter. Either would be considered ‘traditional’, so I wasn’t fussed. What was more important to me was its texture, as Graham cracker is notoriously crumbly. Unfortunately, as is evidenced in the photo above, my crust quickly became rubble once the slice was disturbed (a little more butter would have helped combat this).
That being said, its brittleness prevented what I call ‘cheesecake-syndrome’: where brute strength requires you to get your fork through a cheesecake’s base, only to find the base going flying when you finally break through. It’s safe to say we’ve all had a case of cheesecake-syndrome in our time.
Overall though, I was impressed with the cafe’s take on this famous dessert. And for a menu that otherwise focusses on the likes of Bánh mì and other Vietnamese foods, I commend them for taking the leap of faith with American pie. I do think £4 is priced a little highly for the size of slice I received, but I appreciate that for a such a small business, it is understandable.
Taking this into account when assigning a Tribudishional score, I would give it an 8.5/10. It’s certainly the best key lime pie I’ve ever had.
And I’ve had more than I care to admit.
©The Tribudishional Food Blog


Love the concept of crust turning to rubble!
Thank you! Glad you enjoyed the review.
Loving the idea of reviewing traditional food in unexpected places, so the key lime pie in a Vietnamese cafe is perfect. Like the detail in the review as well. Keep up the good work.
Thanks Paul! More reviews are in the works.
Relieved to hear I’m not the only one to have suffered from cheesecake syndrome.
Love the blog
It’s a serious problem that many face!