Brododaktylic Rice Paper.

Rice paper is different in Vietnam. Being there for a total of about 2 days, I only had the occasion to eat Spring Rolls once, but its delicately textured translucent skin was an altogether fishscale-popping-from-my-eyes experience, much like if you've only had Sushi in Kentucky and then you come to Japan and have it . And I wasn't even convinced by the stuffing. The shrimp was mid-size, slightly overcooked and limp. The scallions too tough and fragrant, the vermicelli too much... The mint was good, but yeah that's a no-brainer.
...Not that i haven't had spring rolls before... Sergio and I used to live across the Vietnam house back in our blithe university days, where we would chow down some vermicelli topped with roasted pork and fried chives seasoned with tangy nuoc cham which was yummy if you were a hunger-ravaged student after three hours of Physics lab trying to fit a regression-curve onto datapoints resembling my three-year old cousin's confetti opus, and you only had about $1.43 (in change) chinkling around in your unwashed jean pockets.
This rice paper in Saigon was different, taking the eating experience of the spring rollto an almost an entirely different dimension. Most rice paper sold outside Vietnam comes as hard, dry white sheets that you then wet with a little water to soften and wrap. The rice paper in Vietnam (or the fresh ones at least) go through this process of double-heating that separates the inner and outer skin (giving it a more delicate crepe-like texture), and then are dried on woven bamboo baskets (which give the rice paper their cross-hatch pattern). Then they are lightly toasted over a fire to dry completely once. But the big secret is that for the next step, the FRESH rice paper then involves an over-night process whereby morning dew is soaked up in a shady well-aired place, which gives it a tender moistness and al-dente chewiness that can't be reproduced by the "slapping water on" versions of the rice paper. Prepared like this, the rice paper, slightly seduced by the dew and morning breeze, not too hard or soft, limp nor brittle upon the palette, then wraps the shrimp or pork and herbs tightly in embrace, ready for dipping into clear-orange tartness of the sweet vinegary sauce.