Nearly twenty years ago, during my junior year of high school, I visited Vietnam and got to spend some time along the coastal region of Nha Trang. During my trip, my cousins took me to a seafood restaurant that I still think about to this day, and I mean that literally, because I don’t think I’ve had any seafood better than that. The shrimp, the crab, the clams, the squid, and the fish were all some of the best I have ever tasted in my entire life. One dish that they served looked simpler and less extravagant than the others, a dish that I honestly overlooked initially. It was just clams steamed with a few aromatics. The flavor wasn’t bold or over the top; it was just straightforward and clean, letting every single ingredient stand on its own and shine in a way unlike any other clam dish I’d had up to that point. So today, we’re going to make my version of that dish. This is Ngheu Hap Sa, or Steamed Clams with lemongrass. An incredible dish that comes together in less than half an hour, and is the perfect way to showcase the beauty of clams.

What Is Ngheu Hap Sa?
Nghêu Hấp Sả translates almost word for word in English. Nghêu means clams, hấp means steamed, and sả means lemongrass. Across the coastal regions of Vietnam, you’ll find variations of this dish on tables at seafood spots and quán ốc, the casual eateries where locals gather over shellfish and cold beer, or even street food stalls.

The whole idea with this recipe is to show a little restraint and let the clams shine naturally. You steam fresh clams over lemongrass, ginger, and lime leaves, with a splash of lager to carry the aroma. The clams release their own briny liquor into the pot, and that becomes the broth. You season it simply, and let the clams do the rest of the work. These clams are served with a bright, tangy nuoc cham on the side, and that sauce helps bring these clams to life.

Ingredient Notes
Manila clams. These small, sweet clams open quickly and stay tender. Buy them live, with shells that are tightly closed or that snap shut when you tap them. Skip any that stay open, because those are already gone. Manila clams should be widely accessible, but for whatever reason, if you need a substitution, Littleneck clams are the next best thing. Before cooking the clams, make sure you purge them to get rid of any sand they’re retaining!
Lemongrass. The backbone of the dish. You want firm, fragrant stalks. Bruise them well, peel off the outer layers, and cut them into thin strips so they give up all that citrus perfume into the steam.

Lager. A clean, crisp lager builds the steaming liquid and lifts the aromatics. Nothing hoppy or heavy. You want it to support the clams, not overtake the flavor. Beers like Bia Saigon, Heineken, Sapporo, or Rainier work great. If you want to avoid cooking with beer, water works as a substitution.

How to Purge the Clams
This step may be the most crucial in getting the best results. Clams live buried in sand, and that sand comes home with them. Purging pulls it out before it ends up in your broth. Stir 3 tablespoons of kosher salt into 6 cups of water until it dissolves; this gives us a 3.5% saltwater solution that mimics seawater. Submerge the clams and let them sit for 20-30 minutes. As they breathe, they spit out the grit. Lift the clams out of the water rather than pouring everything through a colander, because that keeps the settled sand at the bottom instead of back on your clams. Give them a final rinse, and they’re ready to be cooked.

How to Make Ngheu Hap Sa
Prepwork:
Purge the clams first. Then prep the aromatics. Bruise your lemongrass with the back of a knife to release its oils, then cut the stalks into batons about 2 inches long. Slice the ginger into thin strips, and gently crumple the lime leaves.

Steam the clams:
Warm the oil in a big pot over medium-high heat. Add the lemongrass, ginger, and lime leaves, and let them sizzle until your kitchen smells incredible, about 1 minute. Pour in the lager, then stir in the Dear Mam fish sauce and sugar until the sugar dissolves and the liquid comes to a lively simmer.

Add the clams and cover the pot right away. Steam for 5 to 8 minutes, shaking the pot now and then so the heat moves evenly. Lift the lid every couple of minutes and pull out the clams as they open, so the early openers never overcook. Once they are all open, you are done. Discard any stubborn clams that refuse to open, because those were not alive when they went in.

Make the Nuoc Cham Dipping Sauce
While the clams purge or steam, mix your nuoc cham. Whisk together Dear Mam fish sauce, sugar, and filtered water until the sugar fully dissolves. Squeeze in the lime juice, then stir in the minced garlic and sliced Thai chili. Taste and adjust to your own preference: more lime for brightness, more sugar for sweetness, or more chili for heat; make it your own!

Finish and Serve
Move the clams and all the broth to a serving bowl. Garnish with Vietnamese coriander. Serve hot, straight from the bowl, with the nuoc cham alongside for dipping. Pair it with a toasted Vietnamese baguette to sop up all that broth. A cold lager on the side is not required, but it’s highly recommended. Enjoy!
Frequently Asked Questions
What kind of clams work best for this recipe? Manila clams are ideal because they are small, sweet, and open fast. Littlenecks or other small hard-shell clams work well too. Just keep the size modest, so they cook quickly and evenly.
Can I make Vietnamese steamed clams without beer? Yes. Swap the lager for water or a light seafood stock. You lose a little of the aromatic lift, so add a touch more lemongrass and lime leaves to make up for it.
How do I know when the clams are done? The clams tell you. They pop open when they are cooked, usually within 5 to 8 minutes. Pull each one as it opens, and toss any that stay shut after the rest have opened.
How do I get rid of the sand in clams? Purge them. Soak the clams in salted water (3 tablespoons kosher salt to 6 cups water) for 30 minutes to 1 hour, then lift them out and rinse. They filter the grit out on their own.


I haven’t thought about this dish for such a long time! Now I’m reminded of my summers in middle school, when my maternal grandparents would take us cousins to have seafood along the coast. I especially liked the bright green tangy sour and slightly spicy sauce. Still have no idea where to find it in the States😂
Thank you for sharing! I’ll save this recipe for when I have my own place and a little less tight on money.
Isn’t it the best when food can transport you back to a different time or place? I think the sauce you’re thinking of is called muoi ot xanh and I actually have a recipe for it! https://feedthepudge.com/raw-spot-prawns-with-muoi-ot-xanh/