In Chicago, we have not yet been blessed with a noodle god like Momofuku’s David Chang. We’ve instead had to settle for noodles from a handful of lower level deities, like Tony Hu at Chinatown’s Lao Szechuan or Vanna Gumtrontip at Spoon Thai. Last week, I discovered a new star to add to the mix. I may not actually know the star, as I didn’t get the chef’s name, but his fried duck noodle soup speaks quite well on his behalf.
Served at a new Argyle St./Little Vietnam storefront named Pho Xua, this bowl of soul is filled with a fresh nest of pliant egg noodles, a deep, rich ducky broth, and a fat, fried, crunchy-skinned duck leg, along with a garden of bok choy, scallions, and little earthy mushroom rafts. Slurping it down banished the seasonal mood swings I’d been indulging after a string of weeks of ubiquitous overcast, slate gray days of drizzle and chafing wind.
One of the aspects that I appreciate most about Vietnamese cuisine is that nothing goes to waste. From bones to meat to blood and guts, each and every part of an animal is put to good culinary use. Cháo lòng turns piggy odds and ends that most butchers would toss out with the garbage into hearty and soothing rice porridge.
Cháo Lòng is one of the rare offerings in Saigon that is served from morning until evening. The dish is hot, satisfying and easy on the pocket at only 6,000 VND a bowl. Street vendors dishing up cháo lòng can be easily spotted with their giant metal vats and glass display cases filled with piles of offal and stacks of golden fried dough (giò cháo quẩy).
There are some very interesting meats available for consumption in Southeast Asia. I’ve seen bugs, ostriches, dogs, snakes, bats, and even cats for sale. While I draw the line at domesticated animals and insects, I’ll pretty much eat everything else, just as long as it was prepared with love, looks appetizing, and smells good.
With the year of the rat in full swing, a group of friends and I recently ventured outside our comfort zones to try a Mekong Delta specialty—mouse.
The breed of mice served in local restaurants are not native to the city and are in fact from the countryside. These mice resided in rice fields and feasted on whole grains prior to meeting their makers. If this were America, the words “grain-fed” and “organic” would be touted on the restaurant menus serving up these little guys.
Going to your local grocery store to replenish your food supply may seem like a chore, but browsing ethnic markets is a fun way to discover new foods. Here are seven great ethnic markets and grocery stores in the Washington D.C. area covering Hispanic, Turkish, Lebanese, Ethiopian, Italian, and Vietnamese cuisine.
How much does Grace love the popular Vietnamese sandwich, banh mi? She declares, "If I could marry a sandwich, I would marry a banh mi." After staring at her photo of her sandwich's innards, I might have to agree with her.
At first glance, I thought the woman was frying up some bánh tôm tây hồ—battered and deep fried julienned sweet potatoes with shrimp. Upon closer inspection, I came to realize I did not recognize what was bubbling away in her oil-filled wok.
It is truly a red letter day in Saigon when I stumble upon a food that I have not heard of or tried before, and my encounter with bánh cóng on Vuon Chuoi Street (toward Dien Bien Phu Street) in District 3 was no different.
Barbara Fisher of Tigers and Strawberries on Nuoc Mau, the essential Vietnamese sauce: "It is what gives depth of flavor and color to kno dishes, which are earthy, homey braises of meats, tofu or seafood. Salty with fish sauce, these dishes are meant to be eaten with plenty of rice, but the salt flavor is balanced by the smoke-tinged sweetness of this home made, darkly browned caramel sauce." She provides both a recipe for Nuoc Mao and a step-by-step walkthrough with photos, to make preparation of this "simple, but not easy staple of the Vietnamese kitchen" as painless as possible.
Posted by Lia Bulaong, February 23, 2007 at 11:58 AM
The An family runs three restaurants in California: Thanh Long and Crustacean in San Francisco and another Crustacean in Beverly Hills. Each restaurant has a a Secret Kitchen, "a completely enclosed kitchen within the main kitchen, off limits to all employees except An Family members. Here, Chef Helene and the Ans prepare their secret family recipes: An's Famous Roasted Crab and Garlic Noodles. These dishes are the key to the restaurants' success." I'm sure the dishes are delicious, but is it just me or is the whole secret kitchen thing a little nutty?
In Chicago, we have not yet been blessed with a noodle god like Momofuku’s David Chang. We’ve instead had to settle for noodles from a handful of lower level deities, like Tony Hu at Chinatown’s Lao Szechuan or Vanna Gumtrontip at Spoon Thai. Last week, I discovered a new star to add to the mix. I may not actually know the star, as I didn’t get the chef’s name, but his fried duck noodle soup speaks quite well on his behalf.
