A Fanfare of Tasty Things

Lucy and I bravely eating some roadside springrolls in Saigon. The vendor looks nice enough...doesn't she? She wouldn't intentionally poison us...would she?

I hold true to my statement that I did not have a bad meal in Cambodia or Vietnam. Now granted some meals were way better than others, and some were experiments, but all in all, I didn’t die from anything I ingested. I even survived snake wine (barely). The food has been AWESOME and I feel I’ve gained 10 lbs just eating – carbs, carbs, carbs! Woo Hoo! The liberation of not having any signage that says carbs are bad for you! I’ve been subsisting on rice/rice noodles, fresh-caught seafood, vegetables, fruit, and coffee. The two treats I’ve had on a regular basis are bread and ice cream. Thank God the French brought both of those to Vietnam! You would never guess that the bread here is better than in the U.S. but it is! Crunchy baguettes that are soft inside – YUM! I had no idea about the ice cream thing. I knew that the Americans influenced the appreciation of ice cream during the war but had no idea that the French preceded them during their occupation of the country and really proliferated not only the consumption, but the manufacturer of really good ice cream. The coffee in Vietnam completely exceeds the quality of a cup of Starbucks. It’s got rocket-fuel in it. Seriously. One shot of this and you’ll be awake for days. Some people don’t like how strong and sweet they take it here, but I’ve learned to appreciate Vietnamese coffee as a delicious snack to be savored every afternoon and evening.

Besides the common dishes of pho (noodle soup pronounced "fuhr"), com (rice), and cha gio (spring rolls fresh and fried), I was introduced to a couple new local delights during my trip.

• Bun chá (pronounced boon chia). With help of local friends, I ate at a great local restaurant in the middle of Hanoi famous for this dish – the only thing they seemed to serve. The front of the tiny building was littered with motorcycles and valet parking was literally a guy pointing out any two foot space in the one block radius. Upon entering the establishment your first reaction is “it’s full, we’ll have to wait for a table”. But the secret of many of these restaurants is that one has to only look up to find more seating. Everything is stadium seating here! We walked up a tiny twisting staircase to the 2nd floor which happened to also be full-up so we walked up one more flight and found a small space at the end of a cafeteria-style table. Trán said that this went on for another two floors up. As we negotiated our way up the staircase I could only imagine the nimbleness by which the waitresses had to carry food up to their customers. There were no elevators and the kitchen (which consisted of an open range, a stock pot, and a wok) was on the first floor next to the motorcycle lot. Can you imagine people trying to pull that off in the US? Not! Bun chá was consisted of a bowl of rich soup filled with grilled meats. You added basil, garlic and chili to your taste and dipped the rice noodles into your bowl of soup before eating them. It was really tasty and something I will look for in the US. To supplement this meal was a gigantic pyramid of fried spring rolls. It was all so good I could have sat there and continued eating the rest of the afternoon. This experience was a far cry from my dinner which also involved a famous Vietnamese dish.
• Chá Ca was well known in northern Vietnam. There were several restaurants in Hanoi which served it as a specialty but one was recommended – like bun chá, it was the only dish served at this one place - Chá Ca La Vong on Chá Ca Street (how could you go wrong?). So I journeyed to the Old Quarter to taste this dish of grilled fish and vegetables. What I was presented with was a crushing blow to the high food standards I had set during the past three weeks. At first, a bowl of rice noodles was placed in front of me, and then a big plate of what I discovered was dill – big long stocks of dill. Then a charcoal brazier was carefully maneuvered onto the table and finally a sizzling pan filled with fish bits in an oily saffron broth was placed over it. The dill was dumped into this mixture and sautéed until wilted. That was it – a big mess of fish, dill, saffron and oil. I watched carefully around me to see exactly how I was supposed to eat this. I added peanuts, chili and fish sauce to my rice noodles and spooned the fish mixture over it. What I ended up with wasn’t exactly the tastiest thing in the world, but I’ll forever have a memory of it stained on my newly tailored shirt.