Cathay Pacific

Published
by
Gastronomer
on May 16, 2008
in Airplane Food
. 6 Comments

I have a sick fascination with airplane food.

Even though I was heading to Hong Kong, a veritable cornucopia of food, I was eagerly anticipating the on-board meal. As someone who prides herself on never wasting space on unworthy food, I’m a bit embarrassed by my enthusiasm for mile-high cuisine.

As the squeaky cart rolled my way, I awoke from my nap, adjusted my seat upward, pulled down my tray and waited for the steward to ask the magic question: pork or fish? “Fish!” I peppily declared. The Astronomer chose pork with dramatically less pep.

Fish proved to be a great choice. The hunks of flaky white fish were smothered in a classic Chinese sweet, gingery and spicy sauce. The ordinary white rice paired with the savory fish and the steamed bok choy made me feel like I was already in China. The carrots looked a bit iffy, so I passed them onto The Astronomer. Aren’t I muy generosa?

Sides included a warm roll with a pat of salted butter from New Zealand and a shrimp, lettuce and cucumber salad. The roll was excellent, while the salad was pretty, but boring (see: Mischa Barton). The first dessert, tiny pearls of tapioca topped with bland squares of JELLO, was mildly interesting. But the second dessert, a mini Kit Kat bar, was far tastier.

The Astronomer’s main was a slab of pig topped with scallions and a single chili. The chop sat on a bed of shrimp and saffron rice along with chunks of squash and some broccoli. My space was too precious to try the pork, but according to The Astronomer, the pork tasted much better than it looked. The rice and veggies weren’t bad. Like all saffron-infused dishes, the rice’s appearance shined brighter than its actual flavor. The Astronomer’s other side dishes were identical to mine.

We arrived in Hong Kong fueled and ready to pound the pavement in search of the best eats in town. If you thought Bangkok was impressive, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.

Lunch Lady

Published
by
Gastronomer
on May 15, 2008
in Saigon and Vietnamese
. 2 Comments

Practically every vendor in town sells the same dish each day. This type of specialization usually results in a dependably consistent product. However, I recently found a lunch lady outside my office at 23 Hoang Sa Street in District 1 that changes up her menu daily without sacrificing quality. Score!

Goi cuon (spring rolls) with hoisin sauce are an everyday staple, but it’s always a surprise which broth and noodle dish she’ll be serving up. Here’s what The Astronomer and I ate on our first visit under her tasty awning.

Goi Cuon (2,000 VND per roll)

Bun Moc - vermicelli rice noodles in a mild pork-based broth with slices of pork and various forcemeats (12,000 VND)

Banh Canh - noodles made of rice and tapioca flour in a mild pork-based broth with slices of pork and various forcemeats (12,000 VND)

Che Thap Cam - dessert drink with seaweed, basil seeds, grass jelly and mung beans (5,000 VND)

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The spring rolls were solid, much better than your average street stall rendition. The hoisin sauce, which can either make or break goi cuon, was also very good.

Both main dishes employed the same broth with different noodles. The Astronomer requested bun, while I went for slippery banh canh. During The Astronomer’s “I’m going to eat a new dish each night” phase when I worked at the Saigon Times, he tried bun moc and found it bland. Luckily, this version was anything but boring. The broth was deeply porky and deftly salted. A varied collection of meats and the deep-fried shallots rounded out the dish.

This was my first time having banh canh with a broth made of something other than crab, and I liked it quite a bit. The noodles, which can sometimes be slimy, had a lovely bite like Japanese udon.

I finished off lunch with a tall plastic cup of che. I love the texture of basil seeds between my molars.

Having a standout lunch option five paces from my office is a mixed bag. On the one hand, it’s good because I have a dependable source of fuel, but it’s not so good because I don’t bother exploring new eateries. I’m sure I’ll find a suitable balance for the sake of gas•tron•o•my.

This lunch lady rules.

Hot from the Fryer

Published
by
Astronomer
on May 14, 2008
in Saigon and Vietnamese
. 5 Comments

Cuisine: Vietnamese

91 Cach Mang Thang 8 Street
District 1, Ho Chi Minh City

Phone: none
Website: none

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Fried Finger Foods - cha gio (6,000 VND), banh xep (7,000 VND), xui mai (1,000 VND), banh tom thit (7,000 VND), banh bao chien (8,000 VND)

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I hate to typecast myself, but the fact of the matter is that I have become a bit of a Deep-Fried Guru for gas•tron•o•my. The Gastronomer doesn’t allow just any old lipid to roam those squeaky-clean arteries of hers, so if a grease-laden meal doesn’t look ultra delicious (see Jollybee), she just might choose not to partake. Nevertheless, someone has to report on the less healthy offerings in Saigon, so I sacrifice myself for the sake of our readers. Don’t worry, I’m not suffering too much. Although I could pass on Western-style fast food, I find cha gio, street donuts, and other local deep-fried delicacies totally irresistible.

It’s not surprising, then, that I am a frequent visitor of a take out eatery called Banh Xep Chien Don on CMT8. The goods are always displayed on a table out front to attract passing motorists, and they’re usually fresh out of the frying oil. Prices are a bit higher than you might expect, but it’s totally worth it—these are some tasty treats.

My personal favorite is the cha gio—definitely a contender for the title of “best in Saigon.” As always, these pork-filled wonders are best piping hot, but even when they’ve been sitting out awhile they’re still excellent. Never soggy or burnt tasting, the cha gio have a perfect meaty, greasy flavor [note: The Gastronomer wanted me to edit this sentence on the grounds that it “doesn’t sound appealing.” Well, trust me, they’re greasy in a good way]. What really sets them apart is the dipping sauce. It looks like chili sauce, but it’s actually sweet and sour, which is much, much better in my opinion. I haven’t tasted a sauce like this anywhere else in Vietnam. While I enjoy dipping my cha gio in nuoc mam, I find this flavor combination to be even more delicious.

The same sauce is served with each of the shack’s other offerings. I frequently order banh xep, a solid, crunchy snack that is a better deal than the cha gio from a size perspective but tastes a bit more ordinary. These are quite similar to the banh goi I ate in Hanoi, but I find them superior due to the lack of mushrooms.

The banh tom thit are another hearty treat for meat-lovers. They’re basically breaded deep-fried ground pork logs, but the “chefs” insert a single shrimp with its tail sticking out the end to spice things up. Even more intriguing are the banh bao chien, which are essentially the standard soft white buns (albeit the version with no egg) submerged in hot oil until they’re golden brown. Wolfing down a couple of these will fill you up in a hurry.

The only real letdown are the xui mai—I had high hopes for these little fried dumplings but found them bland and totally uninspiring. The one time I tried them they were cold, so I know I should give them another shot, but with four other tempting choices, why risk disappointment?

Vegetation Profile: Okra

Published
by
Gastronomer
on May 13, 2008
in Saigon and Vegetation Profile
. 15 Comments

Okra (American English: [ˈoʊkɹə], British English [ˈəʊkɹə], [ˈɒkɹə]), also known as lady’s finger, bhindi (Hindustani) and gumbo, is a flowering plant in the mallow family (along with such species as cotton and cocoa) valued for its edible green fruits. Its scientific name is Abelmoschus esculentus.

The species is an annual or perennial, growing to 2 m tall. The leaves are 10–20 cm long and broad, palmately lobed with 5–7 lobes. The flowers are 4–8 cm diameter, with five white to yellow petals, often with a red or purple spot at the base of each petal. The fruit is a capsule up to 18 cm long, containing numerous seeds.

The species apparently originated in the Ethiopian Highlands, though the manner of distribution from there is undocumented. The Egyptians and Moors of the 12th and 13th centuries used the Arab word for the plant, suggesting that it had come from the east. The plant may thus have been taken across the Red Sea or the Bab-el-Mandeb strait to the Arabian Peninsula, rather than north across the Sahara. One of the earliest accounts is by a Spanish Moor who visited Egypt in 1216, who described the plant under cultivation by the locals who ate the tender, young pods with meal.

From Arabia, the plant spread around the shores of the Mediterranean Sea and eastward. The lack of a word for okra in the ancient languages of India suggests that it arrived there in the Common Era. The plant was introduced to the Americas by ships plying the Atlantic slave trade by 1658, when its presence was recorded in Brazil. It was further documented in Suriname in 1686. Okra may have been introduced to the southeastern North America in the early 18th century and gradually spread. It was being grown as far north as Philadelphia by 1748, while Thomas Jefferson noted that it was well established in Virginia by 1781. It was commonplace throughout the southern United States by 1800 and the first mention of different cultivars was in 1806.

Until I moved to Saigon, I never knew that okra or đậu bắp made an appearance in Vietnamese cuisine. I always associated the vegetable with southern specialties like gumbo.

In Vietnam, đậu bắp is most commonly found in a soup called canh chua alongside pineapples, tomatoes, and upright elephant ears (bac ha). I’ve also encountered it sauteed and served as a side dish at restaurants specializing in broken rice and paired with raw meets at DIY grilling eateries.

In my experience with Vietnamese-American home cooking and restaurant fare, đậu bắp is pretty much non-existent. Is it just me or has đậu bắp lost its importance in Vietnamese food abroad?

Bánh Lỗ Tai

Published
by
Gastronomer
on May 12, 2008
in Dessert and Vietnamese
. 2 Comments

Bánh lỗ tai or ear-shaped cookies are one of The Astronomer’s and my favorite Vietnamese snacks. Although they contain sesame seeds, their flavor is not purely sesame. They are a bit sweet, a smidgen salty and very addictive. Trust me. There are two types of bánh lỗ tai on the market—the thick variety and the thin kind. I’ve tasted both and there’s no question in my mind that the thick one is much tastier. Unlike chips and other cookie counterparts, bánh lỗ tai’s texture is hearty and satisfying.

I bought the batch above from the cookie dealer on wheels in District 4 who sells 100 grams for 7,000 VND. And just like everything else in Saigon, these cookies taste extra delicious after they’ve chilled in the fridge.

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