It’s a small world after all when you take a moment to think about how common certain culinary elements are across the globe. The Marco Polo did-he-or-didn’t-he specifics are not very important to me; I just find it interesting to note how perogies are similar to ravioli, the variations on a theme in Central American street snacks, and how most of the world relies on a starch for soaking or sopping things up.
In Vietnam, I ran across noodles as often as rice—fat or skinny, in a soup, as a salad, or on their own. My spaghetti dreams were adequately filled. At the Red Bridge Cooking School, I had the opportunity to make my own noodles for pho. I stirred the thin batter, poured it on taut cotton, steamed it, carefully lifted the thick rice crepes, and then cut them into noodles to add to my soup. I’m not sure I could ever do it again without the watchful eye of Chef Phi, but it was an experience I won’t soon forget.
Vermicelli (bun) is my most common order at Vietnamese restaurants here, and after successfully recreating the salad flavours, I thought I would attempt something a smidge more difficult. That is, I thought I would use the stove.
Most often, I order bun at home with a lemongrass protein (usually beef or chicken) rather than something on a skewer or only spring rolls. I like that the lemongrass sauce as it were adds another layer to the nuoc cham sauce that comes on the side. (Note: If you’re only getting straight fish sauce as your bun dressing, you’re getting cheated out of flavour.)
I went with beef, and as my Vietnamese cookbook had no recipe for bun, I took amalgamated inspiration from bun bo xao recipes that came from Food Safari and Williams-Sonoma. I’m not a big fan of bean sprouts so I left those out. I found brown rice vermicelli and just followed the directions on the package (even with the trendy fibre, they are ready in less than 5 minutes). My shredded carrots were in the nuoc cham. The beef was marinated for about 20 minutes. The Food Safari recipe calls for perilla. If you can find this herb, I highly recommend using it (with mint like I did). It has quite a strong flavour and is almost warming when compared to the freshness of the mint. As important as the lemongrass is for flavour, so is the nuoc cham that you add before eating. Make sure you have enough. In my previous post, my friend Hong posted her recipe and it is very close to what I made. I will reproduce hers as parts are easier to multiply than measurements. I would go with one clove of garlic and one chili per serving.
Hong’s Nuoc Cham
1 part fish sauce
4 parts water
2 parts fresh lime juice
2 parts sugar
fresh chillies (chopped)
fresh garlic (minced/chopped)
Stir everything together.
This “dressing” can be kept in your fridge for a couple of weeks. She uses this for everything (eggs, salads, meat, fish, etc).
Don’t forget to mix!
4 comments
linda says:
Jun 10, 2009
this looks so amazing and delicious. your photos are fantastic!
Reese says:
Jun 22, 2009
HELLO GORGEOUS FOOD PHOTOGRAPHY!!!!
Really really… this is beautiful. Love the third to last shot. The red wall, blue bowl… nice splashes of colour in those shots. Lovely, lovely.
I smell Saigon in my salad. | cream and sugar says:
Feb 2, 2010
[…] With friends there, I think of it often. And fondly. I haven’t tried any more Vietnamese recipes since moving to Vancouver, but I haven’t much tried any recipes, really. Vancouver’s […]
Solo Suppers Beyond Cereal: Faux pho ga | Cream and Sugar says:
Jan 31, 2011
[…] cues from both Mark Bittman’s Hanoi Noodle Soup in How to Cook Everything and the pho recipe I learned at the Red Bridge Cooking School in Hoi An, […]