Hue-style Beef Noodles

Most people are familiar with the Vietnamese beef noodle soup, pho (pronounced fuh). Pho is good, but bun bo Hue (pronounced boom baw way), or Hue-style beef noodle soup, is great. If pho was like flying a kite, bun bo Hue would be like flying a jet fighter: intense and not for the weak. If the red color of the broth doesn’t give it away, the first bite will. In central Vietnam, Hue is an area known for its generous use of chili peppers in cooking.

A good bowl of bun bo Hue will make you look like you just did yogalates in a sauna. But not all bun bo Hue is extremely spicy. Sometimes, it's served not spicy at all. And even though it's called beef noodle soup, pork knuckles and shanks are an important part of the dish. Just please don’t know me how I know about yogalates. The recipe below is courtesy of Mai Pham of Bon Appetit.



Ingredients:

6 lemongrass stalks (bottom 3 inches only), outer layers peeled
3 pounds beef shank
8 cups low-salt chicken broth
8 cups water

1 1/2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 1/2 onions, thinly sliced, divided
1 garlic clove, minced
1 tablespoon (or more) sambal oelek or Thai chiles
1 1/2 teaspoons paprika
3 tablespoons fish sauce (nuoc nam or nam pla)*
2 tablespoons sugar
2 1/2 teaspoons red shrimp paste with soya bean oil*
1/2 teaspoon salt

1 8.8-ounce package dried thin rice noodles (vermicelli-style)
2 green onions, chopped
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
2 cups thinly shredded cabbage
1/2 cup rau ram (Vietnamese coriander)* or Thai basil leaves* or regular basil leaves
3 dried Thai bird chiles,* chopped (optional)
4 lime wedges

Directions:

Finely chop enough lemongrass stalks to measure 4 teaspoons. Cut remaining stalks in half. Place beef and stalks in large pot. Add broth and 8 cups water; bring to boil. Reduce heat; simmer 1 1/2 hours.

Heat oil in medium skillet over medium heat. Add 1/3 of sliced onions and garlic; sauté 1 minute. Add 1 tablespoon sambal oelek, paprika, and chopped lemongrass; sauté 1 minute. Add sambal oelek mixture to soup; mix in fish sauce, sugar, shrimp paste, and salt. Simmer until beef is tender, skimming foam from surface, about 1 hour. Remove beef from soup. Skim fat from surface of soup. Simmer soup until reduced to 8 cups, about 10 minutes. Add more sambal oelek for spicier flavor. Trim off any fat from beef; cut meat into bite-size pieces.

Bring large saucepan of water toboil. Add noodles; boil 1 minute. Drain; rinse under cold water and drain again. Using scissors, cut noodles crosswise. Divide noodles among 4 large bowls. Top with beef, remaining sliced onions, green onions, and cilantro.

Bring soup to boil; ladle over noodles. Toss cabbage and rau ram in small bowl. Sprinkle over soup. Top with chiles, if desired; squeeze lime over.

Vietnamese Pork Skewers

Last week I shared a simple recipe for naked fried chicken. Today I’ll share a deceptively simple Vietnamese recipe courtesy of my aunt and uncle from Austin. What makes it deceptively simple is the marinade. A casual eater would have no idea of the amount of time that goes into the ingredients: mincing hay-like lemongrass, toasting and grounding sesame seeds, thinly and uniformly slicing a slab of pork, and making a dark caramel sauce. For those with the dedication and free time, this recipe is worth all the effort.



Ingredients

2 tablespoons minced lemongrass
2 tablespoons white sesame seeds, lightly toasted, coarsely ground
1 tablespoon fish sauce
1 1/2 teaspoon of caramel sauce or 1 teaspoon light brown sugar
2 shallots, minced
1 clove garlic, minced
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2/3 pound pork shoulder, untrimmed, cut across the grain into thin slices (about 2" wide by 4" long and 1/8" thick)
12 (8-inch) bamboo skewers, soaked in water 30 minutes

Directions

Combine the lemongrass, sesame seeds, fish sauce, caramel sauce, shallots, garlic and oil in a bowl and stir well to blend. Add the pork and let it marinate for at least 20 minutes. Thread the meat onto the skewers and set aside.

Preheat a grill with hardwood charcoal. Oil the grill, then grill the pork slices until the meat is done and the edges are nicely charred, about 3 to 4 minutes. To make life easier, we used one of those fish grill baskets which let us flip 6 skewers at a time rather than burning our finger tips turn each skewer individually.

Pan-fried Pomphet with Lemongrass

I’m told that my first solid food was fried fish. Whether or not that’s true, fried fish has been a long time favorite of mine. Sure, frying fish will make the whole house smell like, well, fried fish. And though I understand that some may gag at the thought of fried fish infusing the furrows of their fine furniture, for me, that beloved aroma takes me to a time when life was fun and fancy-free. This recipe for a pan-fried whole fish is deliciously simple and is a go-to dish for when I have little time to cook for 4-6 other fish lovers. Here I used whole pomfret but feel free to use your favorite fish. Any small fish that is firm and oily would be great, e.g., mackerel, herring, etc.

1 whole fish about 3 pounds, cleaned
1 teaspoon salt
1 stalk of lemongrass
1 whole Thai chili pepper
1/2 cup vegetable oil

1. Mince the lemongrass and chili pepper until nearly fine. Add the salt. Continue mincing until fine. A food processor saves time but I try to use a mezzaluna when possible. If using a food processor, make sure to chop the lemongrass into quarter-inch slices or smaller (like chopping green onions) before processing otherwise you’ll get unpleasantly long strands of lemongrass fibers.

2. Pat the fish dry. Cut 3 slits into each side of the fish. Thoroughly coat the fish with the lemongrass mixture making sure to work the seasoning into the newly made slits.

3. In your favorite fish-frying skillet, fry over medium heat about 10 minutes each side or until you can lift the meat at the slits and the bone underneath looks cooked through. Serve with rice and your favorite greens, which is ong choy for me.

Stir-fried Ong Choy

Growing up, one of the few ways my mom got me to eat my veggies was by stir-frying them. Looking back, I’m glad it was this and not a broccoli milkshake.

As you can see, ong choy is a green leafy vegetable native to East and Southeast Asia. However, because it has grown like a weed since its introduction to the United States, the U.S. Department of Agriculture has designated it as a “noxious weed.” Just to be clear, the USDA uses “noxious” in reference to the plant’s effect on the environment, not my stomach. Ong choy, like the potato, was historically a food source for the poor but is now a common offering on menus.



This is an extremely quick and easy recipe for those nights your short on time.

1 bunch of ong choy (approximately 6 cups uncooked)
6 cloves of garlic, coarsely chopped
1/4 cup of vegetable oil

1. Thoroughly wash the ong choy of any dirt. Discard about 1 inch from the thick ends of the stalks. Cut into 2-inch sections. FYI, I was taught a much more involved process of breaking these long stalks down into shorter strips for frying but just cutting them is much more efficient and doesn’t degrade the taste of the dish.

2. In a large wok, heat the oil over medium high heat. When the oil is hot, add the garlic and cook for 15 seconds or until fragrant. Immediately add the ong choy (before the garlic burns) and toss until all the leaves are evenly wilted, about 2 minutes. Serve with your favorite Vietnamese savory dish (such as braised pork and eggs or catfish in caramel sauce)

Shrimp & Scallion Pancakes

For some reason, it seems that many things can be improved when made in pancake form. Maybe it has something to do with sizzling batter in a large pan of grease. Whatever the reason, you’re about to learn how to make some delicious discs full of shrimp and scallions. Whether you call them pancakes, omelets, or frittatas, I assure you this recipe will taste the same regardless of its name.

3 eggs
½ pound of medium shrimp, peeled (devein optional)
1 stalk of scallion, chopped
1 teaspoon of salt

1. In a large bowl, beat the eggs, salt and scallions. Add shrimp and mix until even.

2. In a large, heavy-bottom skillet, heat a liberal amount of vegetable oil (enough to cover the bottom of the pan). Test the heat of the oil by adding a few drops of the egg. The oil should sizzle immediately upon contact.

3. Using a ¼-cup measuring cup, ladle in the batter similar if making pancakes. You should be able to make about 3 at a time. Make sure about 3 shrimps are in each ladle. Once added to the oil, flatten out the shrimp into a single layer immediately, before the egg mixture sets. Cook for 2-3 minutes on each side. Serve with rice and soy sauce for dipping.

Vietnamese Banana Cake

If Vietnam were to have a national fruit, it would probably be the banana. With so many different varieties available, there’s a banana for practically every culinary need. Today we’ll make a cake with bananas.

The Vietnamese banana cake is similar to fruitcake in density and texture but is unlike fruitcake in that people would love to receive this banana cake as a gift…at least I would.

1-½ lbs extremely ripe bananas
1 large egg
¼ cup unsalted butter, melted and cooled
¼ cup coconut milk, the creamy white stuff, not the juice
1/3 cup sugar
¾ cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon of sugar in the raw

1. Preheat oven to 375. Oil an 8-inch round cake pan.

2. Choose the least ripe banana and set aside for decorating the top of the cake. Peel and slice the remaining bananas into ¼-inch slices and place into a large bowl.

3. In a separate bowl, lightly beat the egg and then add the sugar, coconut milk and butter. Mix until blended. Pour over bananas and fold with a rubber spatula until even.

4. Sift the flour directly onto the banana mixture and continue to fold with a rubber spatula until even. Pour the batter into the cake pan and shake or tap until the batter evens out.

5. Cut the remaining banana into 1/8-inch slices and decorate the top of the cake with all your creativity and none of you inhibitions. Sprinkle on the raw sugar.

6. Bake for 1 hour or until a toothpick comes out clean and the top is a nice golden brown. I personally bake it for an extra 15 minutes so that the edges get extra crusty with the hardened caramel.

Vietnamese Pork & Eggs

This is the second of two sweet-n-savory recipes this week. Thit kho (pronounced like “tit caw”…yeah, it sounds dirty in English) is a dish where the pork is slow-cooked in a caramel sauce with hard-boiled eggs. This one can be considered the Vietnamese version of bacon & eggs except it’s not usually consumed for breakfast.

1-½ lbs boneless pork leg with skin & fat, cut into 1-inch by 2-inch chunks
¼ cup of sugar
¾ cup of water
3 tablespoons of fish sauce
6 medium eggs, hard-boiled and peeled
12 oz of your favorite canned coconut juice, strained of coconut pieces

1. In a large bowl, evenly coat the chunks of pork with fish sauce and coconut juice. Marinate for an hour.

2. In a 4-quart pan, caramelize the sugar with the water over medium heat for 15 minutes or until the sauce is a deep brown.

3. Carefully, add the coconut juice that has been marinating the pork but not the pork itself. Return to a simmer. The caramel will seize temporarily but then dissolve once the juices simmer again.

4. Add the pork and eggs. Return to a simmer, then partially cover and cook for another 1-¼ hour, turning the pork every 15 minutes. Uncover and cook for another 15 minutes or until the sauce has reduce by half of its original amount.

5. Serve with your favorite boiled green veggies.

Catfish in Caramel Sauce

This past week was a sweet-n-savory week for me. In honor of my hankering, you’ll learn two Vietnamese recipes that incorporate caramel and fish sauce. To the uninitiated, these two ingredients are like Romeo and Juliet; the relationship may seem to defy the stars but it’s as natural as that light through yonder window.

The first of these two recipes is for catfish simmered in a caramel sauce.

1-½ lbs catfish steaks, 1-inch thick
2 teaspoons brown sugar
½ teaspoons black pepper
¼ teaspoons salt
¼ cup sugar
½ cup water
2 tablespoons fish sauce
2 tablespoons of vegetable oil
2 cloves of garlic, minced

1. Put the catfish into a large glass bowl and coat evenly with brown sugar, pepper, salt and fish sauce. Set aside.

2. In a shallow pan large enough for all the catfish to fit snugly in a single layer, caramelize the sugar with the oil and half of the water over medium heat for 15 minutes or until the caramel is a deep dark color but before it smokes.

3. Add the rest of the water and bring back to a simmer. The caramel will seize and there will be a lot of sizzling but when it simmers again, the sugar will dissolve.

4. Add the garlic and catfish. Be sure to pour in all of the fish sauce mixture collected at the bottom of the bowl. Return to simmer. Cover and cook for 30 minutes or until the liquid reduces to about half. Flip the catfish half way through cooking.

5. Serve with rice and your favorite boiled green vegetable. The sauce is edible liquid gold. Pour it over rice and try to have sauce, rice and fish in every bite you take.

Can hay-like stalks of grass make for a good ice cream flavor? Only if you follow the directions detailed below.

The recipes for Vietnamese ice cream, or kem (pronounced like “cam” in “camera”), vary as widely as spots on a Dalmation. In this recipe, instead of eggs and cream, we’ll use cornstarch. The result will be a thick, creamy consistency that is denser than a Blue Bell country day.


4 cups of whole milk
4 to 5 stalks of lemongrass, coarsely chopped
¾ cup of sugar
3 tablespoons of cornstarch

1. In a 1-quart saucepan, simmer 3 cups of the milk with the lemongrass over medium low heat, stirring occasionally. When the milk begins to bubble, remove from heat, cover and seep for at least 30 minutes to infuse the milk with flavors from the lemongrass.

2. In a large mixing bowl, combine the rest of the milk, sugar and cornstarch. Whisk until sugar and cornstarch are dissolved.

3. Add the warm lemongrass mixture by slowly pouring through a sieve. Using a spatula, press down on the filtered pieces of lemongrass to extract as much of the milk out. Discard the lemongrass.

4. Whisk the milk mixture until even. Wash the saucepan to clean of all milk buildup accumulated during the initial simmering. Pour the milk mixture back into the clean saucepan. Simmer over medium low heat, stirring constantly. Once the milk thickens to the consistency of a custard (dip a spoon in and the back of the spoon should come out with a thick even coat of milk), remove from the heat.

5. Immediately pour into a glass bowl. Cover with plastic and refrigerate for at least 24 hours.

6. Once the mixture has thoroughly chilled, prepare it with an ice-cream maker following the manufacturer’s instructions.

7. Serve with fresh mint leaves or chopped peanuts or both.

Steamed Chicken with Ginger Scallion Dipping Sauce

This is one of my favorite recipes. It’s easy, delicious, and can feed two adults for 4-6 business days. Also, part of the reason this is a favorite recipe is because I get to use a mezzaluna (pictured below), one of my favorite tools in the kitchen. Growing up, my mama made me mince the old-fashioned way: constantly chopping with a heavy cleaver for 20-30 minutes. With one of these half-mooned miracles, I can get the same results in about 5 minutes. So using the mezzaluna is my way of letting my mama know she made me suffer for nothing. I still love her, though.

1 whole chicken (for less fat, see note below)
1 tsp ground pepper
2 tsp salt
3-inch section of ginger (about the size of both thumbs put together)
1 stalk of green onion
1 clove of garlic
1 tbsp canola oil

1. In a steamer the size of the International Space Station, bring a gallon of water to a boil.


2. Clean the chicken and remove the neck and innards from the cavity. Set these tasty morsels aside for use in another recipe or discard. Rub the ground pepper and salt into the inner cavity of the chicken. Place the chicken in 12x12 glass baking dish. Cooking will result in large amount of chicken stock. To avoid a chicken that’s half submerged in stock, I place the rack from my toaster oven over the baking dish. This keeps the chicken suspended above the pool of deliciousness that will soon form.
3. Once the steamer is ready, carefully place the chicken into the steamer. Steam for 2 hours. Periodically check the water level and add water as needed.
4. Meanwhile, peel and chop the ginger and garlic. Similarly chop the scallions. Combine ginger, garlic, and scallions onto a cutting board. Using a mezzaluna, mince these ingredients until fine and evenly blended. Transfer to a small bowl. Add salt and canola oil and mix until even.


5. When the chicken has steamed for 2 hours, remove from heat, remove lid, and let rest for 15 minutes before moving or cutting. This will set the extremely hot and tender meat; otherwise the bird will fall apart in your hands. Once cooled, remove the legs and wings. Chop the remainder into 1-inch pieces. Serve with rice (see below) and your favorite veggies.

With the clear, flavorful chicken stock you’ve now collected in the glass dish, you’re on your way to a myriad of other amazing recipes, including rice for the chicken. My favorite thing to eat with this steamed chicken is rice cooked in fresh chicken stock. Use this to cook 2 cups of jasmine rice and you’re well on your way to spiritual bliss.

Though I've called it "dipping sauce," I usually just mix a spoonful of the ginger-scallion goodness into the rice rice itself. This method also helps me save on soy sauce expenses.

FOR LESS FAT: Before placing the chicken in the steamer, pierce the chicken’s skin multiple times with a sharp knife or fork (12 to 20 times), especially the skin around the fatty areas, e.g., thighs. Be careful to not pierce the actual meat. These pierces will help the fat drip out into the baking dish. Before using the stock you’ve just collected, first pour it through a strainer into another container to remove impurities. Then, refrigerate for 3 hours or until the floating layer of fat solidifies. Carefully remove the layer of hardened lard and now you have yourself about a quart of 99% fat-free chicken stock.

Vietnamese Banana Tapioca Pudding

One of the many quirks I have is that I prefer eating raw bananas while they're still greenish and unripe. By the time bananas turn yellow, they're too sweet for my preference. Luckily for me, I learned how to convert overly sweet bananas into a simple traditional Vietnamese dessert that exudes awesomeness.

"Chè chuối" (pronounced "chair chewy") is made with bananas and small tapioca balls. "Chè" refers to the traditional Vietnamese sweet dessert that is similar to soup or pudding. "Chuối" means banana. The fact you're still reading means you're awesome.

To make this delectable dessert, you will need the following:

3 cups water
1/3 cups small tapioca pearls
1 to 1-1/4 lbs of ripe bananas (about 4 regular bananas)
2/3 cups canned coconut milk
1/8 tsp salt
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 to 3 tsp sugar (see Step 5 below)
1/4 cups finely chopped peanuts (optional)

1. In a medium pot, bring the water to a boil. Add the tapioca and stir immediately so the balls don't stick to each other. Reduce heat to a slow boil and leave for 12 to 14 minutes until the tapioca is half cooked (mostly clear with a small white dot in the center). Stir occasionally to prevent the tapioca from sticking to the bottom of the pot. Be careful not to overcook; we want the tapioca chewy, not mushy.
2. Meanwhile, cut the bananas in half lengthwise and then again into 1-inch chunks. Set aside.
3. When the tapioca is ready as mentioned above (it will become thick and viscous), add the coconut milk and salt and stir until blended. Here's a little trick to make this dessert richer and creamier. Though the can tells us to shake well before using, I like to stick it to the man and not shake. Instead, I open the can and scoop out just the coconut cream that rises to the top. Of course whether you shake it like a Polaroid picture or not, the dessert will still taste great.
4. When the tapioca mixture reaches a boil again, add the banana pieces and stir until evenly distributed. Lower the heat and simmer for 2 minutes or until the bananas are tender, giving the flavors a chance to meld together. Remove from heat.
5. Because the sweetness of this dessert depends largely on the ripeness of the bananas you use, it’s best to add sugar to taste. So before dumping in more sugar, first taste the soup. If you want it sweeter, add 1 tsp of sugar, stir until blended, and taste again. Repeat until desired.
6. Serve with the chopped peanuts as a topping.

Serves 6-8 or 1 monster sweet tooth. Refrigerate unused portion and reheat before serving leftovers.

Celebrating the Year of the Ox

To usher in the new lunar year, the year of the Ox, my wife and I had friends over for a celebration. Since most of our friends had never before experienced a Vietnamese new year celebration, it was incumbent upon me to show them a good time. We cooked up a storm, bought a whole-roasted suckling pig, and played some traditional games (bau cua) and some non-traditional games (Rock Band 2) into the wee hours of the night.

In other words, we all partied like Ox stars.


For appetizers, we fried up some banh phong tom (shrimp chips) and home-made banh tet. The shrimp chips we merely bought from the market. However, don't be fooled, the shrimp chips you see in the red bowl does not come in that form. When bought, these chips are packed in a rectangular box in the form of dense, semi-translucent wafers, reminiscent crackers. If you ate these uncooked wafer, you would just get a mouthful of yucky...trust me, I know. The magic happens when the wafers are placed into a deep-fryer. This is when the tiny, dense wafers undergo what I refer to as Hulkification, in which they explode to 10x their original size, resulting in what you see in the red bowl above. And these chips are just as fun to eat as they are to cook. Merely pressing a cooked chip against your tongue will create a suction-cup effect adhering the chip to your taste buds. Like a Disney movie, it's fun for all ages.

My wife made the delicious banh tet, which is a type of rice cake with pork and bean filling. She tells me that making these savory cakes is similar to making huge burritos. She started off with large sheets of banana leaves. Then she added a layer of uncooked glutinous rice mixed with coconut milk and some salt. Next, she added a layer of yellow mung beans. Lastly, she added the strips of raw pork seasoned with garlic, onions, salt and pepper. Once all the ingredients are in place, she tightly rolled this heap of rawness in the banana leaf, ensuring no openings. She then wrapped foil around the cake, turning the big green roll into a big silvery roll. The rolled cake is tightly bound as if she tied a roast. Then she boiled the cakes for 7 hours. During this time, the bound rice is cooked and tries to expand but ends up becoming a sturdy outer shell to the juicy pork inside. Once cooked, the cakes left to cool before serving. Though it's traditionally served by cutting into slices and dipping in fish sauce with chili peppers, we love these "Vietnamese New Year Coins," as a friend refers to them, pan fried to make them warm and crispy. And who can say "no" to some warm and crispy?


The fried rice you see here was one of my contributions to the buffet spread. Like I've mentioned in my earlier posts, I'm a fan of balance and simplicity when it comes to food and this philosophy is evident in my cooking. To make this simple yet yummy fried rice, you'll need the following:

4 cups of uncooked Jasmine rice
1 16-oz. package of Chinese sausage, sliced thinly and uniformly
1 16-oz. bag of frozen mixed vegetables
5 eggs scrambled and broken into small pieces
1/2 cup vegetable oil
2 cloves of garlic, minced
salt & pepper
cilantro, chopped for garnishing

The night before, cook the rice as directed on the package. Cover and refrigerate overnight. Before frying, separate the cold rice by crumbling with your hands. Set aside.

IMPORTANT: Before even turning on the stove, make sure you have all the ingredients prepared and nearby for quick, easy access.

Heat a large wok over medium-high heat until hot. Add the oil, which should begin to smoke almost instantly. Immediately add the Chinese sausage and toss with a spatula for 2 to 3 minutes, until deep red and crispy. Add the garlic and toss until aromatic, about 30 seconds. Leaving it too long will burn the garlic. Add the rice and toss. Now this is where strong forearms are handy. Unfortunately I'm a wuss and tire easily. The title Iron Chef is earned for good reason. But I digress. Constantly toss the rice in a folding motion, as if making souffle. Continue until the rice turns slightly yellow.

Side note - There seems to be some confusion about what makes fried rice yellow. Some will say that it's from the soy sauce added while cooking. Even though soy sauce effectively makes the rice darker in color, traditional fried rice does not incorporate any soy sauce, only salt. The source of the yellow color should come from adding raw eggs to the rice while cooking. Scrambling the eggs in the rice is what makes it yellow and at the same time results in small pieces of cooked eggs. However, this process tends to be time-consuming since it takes a little while for the eggs to become fully cooked. So for efficiency's sake, I scrambled the eggs separate to save my wrist from the throbbing pain associated with constantly tossing the rice until the eggs cooked. This is evident from my pale fried rice that's only lacking in yellow and taste.

As soon as the rice is evenly coated with oil and is a desired color, add the eggs and frozen vegetables and toss until evenly distributed. Then season with salt and pepper to taste and continue tossing until the vegetables are cooked. Serve immediately with some chopped cilantro.


My wife made these eggrolls from scratch. The only problem with these rolls of happiness was that she didn't make enough. There weren't any left over, which made me wish I had spent more time sneaking in eggrolls before the guests arrived than frying the rice. I'd normally share the recipe but this one's an ancient Vietnamese secret. All I can tell you is that the filling is a pork and shrimp combination mixed with a child's laughter and enclosed in the warmth of a mother's hug.


As mentioned before, we ordered a whole-roasted suckling pig. What made this pig different from the traditional Chinese-style roasted pig was that it was prepared in a Philippino style of pig roasting. The skin was crispy, like that of a Chinese pig, but that's where the similarities ended. Unlike a Chinese pig, where the meat is firm, this piggy's meat was fall-off-the-bone tender. So instead of chopping up chunks of meat like I would with a Chinese pig, I resorted to pulling the meat by hand, which was amazingly easy. The entire pig was seasoned through with a spice mixture that was new to me, though still based in salt and pepper. The entire pig was seasoned extremely well with no pieces of bland pork to be found. The skin, when eaten with the meat, added a nice crisp crunch that made everyone smile. As triumphant an effort all my guests made, we still ended up with 4 large containers of pork. Though my wife wish she had sent more pork home with our guests, I'm happy that she didn't. I'm still joyfully eating pork to this day and have not yet once thought, "Hmmm...is that too much pork?"


For dessert, my wife make this amazing cake from scratch. Yes, the cake layers and frosting were all from scratch. The only was it would have been more from scratch was if she were to grow the fruit, almonds and grains herself, which I think she's already doing for next year. Though there are strawberries on top, it's actually a raspberry-almond cake. The layers of white cake were separated by layers of almond cream cheese frosting and raspberry preserves. All four layers were enclosed in more almond cream cheese frosting topped with raspberry preserves, strawberries and sliced almonds. Yes, it was as delicious as it sounds. I'm not sure what angels eat in heaven but I think it looks and tastes something like this.

It was an amazingly successful party thanks to all our out-of-town guests who helped in the preparations. It was a great deal of fun thanks to everyone's adventurous willingness to experience a new type of celebration. I can't wait until the next year!

Home-Cooked Goodness

It's always busy right before the holidays. But for some reason, this is also the time I get really lazy, so I've been behind.

Today I'm sharing some home-cooked goodness.


This first spread was graciously served when I visited a good friend in Rowlett. I apologize for the foto's focal plane being to shallow. It's a build-your-own-spring-roll meal, similar to this one. The sliced beef was marinated in lemongrass, salt and secret spices. The shrimp wasn't marinated. For those unfamiliar with this set up, here's how things work:

1. Cook the meat in a lot of butter in the hot pot
2. Once cooked, combine meat with rice vermicelli, lettuce and cilantro and wrap in rice paper wrapper
3. Depending on your liking, dip it in the accompanying fish sauce (some folks may find the fish sauce too pungent, but, like Goldilocks in Baby Bear's bed, I found it was just right)
4. Guzzle some beer
5. Laugh with good friends
6. Repeat steps 1 through 5

As for how it tasted, IMHO, the combination of minced lemongrass and salt is as delicious as A and W. In the wild, lemongrass looks like a huge weed. In the grocery store, it looks like hard, dried green onions. But at the dinner table, it looks like there won't be any leftovers. It tastes like the illegitimate offspring of a lemon and lawn clippings. Sounds weird, I know. I really don't do it justice but that's what it tastes like. And once you had it, you won't forget it.

The rice vermicelli emulsified the oily, fatty meats with the crisp, fresh veggies so that you can enjoy all the flavors without getting sick of too much meat of veggies. The noodles also served as a means to capture plenty of fish sauce. With beef and shrimp in the same bite, it's the Asian version of surf and turf.


Our next home-cooked meal came from my mother-in-law. This woman loves to cook. See how the foto has enough food for 6 people? Yeah, all that was served for only 3. In one of my earlier posts, I covered Laotian nem. Well, here's one of the Vietnamese versions. Though I haven't asked her for her secrets yet, I have a hunch that it is a mixture of pork, beef and lemongrass. I know she then shapes it, steams it, and then grills the cooked meat mixture. Once cooked, it's split lengthwise and covered in cooked green onions. The green onions are cooked in plenty of hot oil just until fragrant. The Vietnamese term for the cooked green onion literally translate to "fat onions." The plate of greens consists of lettuce, a type of mint, and more green onions. In a bowl, combine the noodles, meat, and veggies. Add chili paste and fish sauce as desired and garnish with peanuts.

As I mentioned above, lemongrass and salt is a great combination, especially for beef and pork. And since the nem has both beef and pork, it's a no-brainer. The oil infused with green onion coats the meat and adds aroma and grease to the meat. Throw in the salty fish sauce and spicy chili paste and you have a symphony of flavors in your mouth. I ended up eating much more than I needed, as usual.

Chow Down on Chau

For dinner, the wife was craving some traditional Vietnamese noodles call bún riêu. To get this, we ventured out to west Houston to Kim Chau Restaurant. This restaurant was highly recommended by optometrist and his wife, who are Vietnamese and run a great optometry practice, no correspondence between the two facts. Though we were skeptical since this place is not anywhere near Chinatown, we learned three things about it: 1) they make their bún riêu with snails, 2) they also make a great bún bò Huế, and 3) they're in a strip mall. These three facts sold us on making the drive and trying a new place.

When we found the place, we drove up to one of the most rundown looking strip malls we have seen with a parking lot to match. We parked and saw no one inside except a guy watching college football. So we had a little conversation about whether or not to go inside. In the end, as an act of faith to our optometrist, we braved the empty mess hall.

It was two weeks after Hurricane Ike but when the server came to take our orders, he informed us that they had just gotten power the night before. Because of this, they only had 2 things on the menu that night and they just happened to be the two noodle soups we came to eat. Huzzah!


I didn't get a photo of my wife's bún riêu, but this was my bún bò Huế, which literally translates to "noodle beef Hue." FYI, Huế is a city in Viet Nam known for its Thai Hoa Palace, temples, monuments and spicy food. Like what I expected, it was spicy but came with a side of extra spiciness in case I needed more...and I did. The savory soup was infused with lemongrass, beef bones, chili peppers, and garnished with onions and cilantro. There was a side dish of shredded veggies to add, you know, to make it healthy. As a kid I never added the veggies because it didn't taste like anything in such a flavorful soup. However, now, it's a nice addition of texture to contrast the rich, fatty meats. What I didn't expect but was a welcomed surprised was that Kim Chau served the noodles with very traditional ingredients. So in addition to the beef shank and bones, there was also congealed pig blood, slices of Vietnamese pork sausage, pig knuckles, and enough MSG to make a horse twitch. Though I'm well aware of the controversy surrounding health matters related to MSG, the crystalline substance sure makes for good cooking. I was raised on MSG so I have no issues consuming foods laden with it (besides getting extremely thirsty after the meal), but I know several folks who swell up like a puffer fish because of it.

So in conclusion, I would definitely eat at Kim Chau again and MSG = yummy, if your body can handle it.

Tony the Chef

So after a week of being evacuees in Dallas, the wife and I visited a good friend in Austin named Tony. During our weekend there, Tony prepared breakfast for us each morning.

Saturday morning


Clockwise starting with the center bowl: pepper-braise pork, rice, stir-fried ong choy with garlic, mushroom & green onion omelet, lemongrass pork chops (cut into smaller pieces), fresh cucumbers.

Our first morning there, Tony prepared Vietnamese food. For those who think this looks more like lunch or dinner, keep in mind that the typical Vietnamese breakfast is merely a cup of coffee. So a "Vietnamese breakfast" really just means we ate Vietnamese food in the morning, which balances out all those who get the Rooty Tooty Fresh and Fruity for dinner at your neighborhood IHOP. I really enjoyed his cooking, partly because I love pork for breakfast and partly because his cooking style is similar to my mama's (his family is from the same part of Vietnam as mine).

Sunday morning


Our second morning in Austin, we awoke to Tony preparing bò bía, which is another type of Vietnamese spring roll; typically people think of Vietnamese spring rolls with sliced pork, shrimp, rice vermicelli, and veggies. Bò bía is made with (clockwise) slices of Chinese sausage, fresh basil, fried eggs, dried shrimp, grated carrots and jicama, peanut sauce, and spring roll wrapper. Here, Tony's combined the dried shrimp, carrots, and jicama for easy assembly.

Assembly instructions:
1. Dip the dry, brittle spring roll wrapper in warm water briefly and place onto your plate. You won't want it to get soft while in water, just get it wet, transfer to your plate and it will soften by the time you start wrapping.
2. Add a small spoonful of each ingredient, tear off some fresh basil leaves
3. Roll like an eggroll or enchilada with the ends closed off.
4. Dip in sauce and enjoy.

Yes, I know these directions lacks detail but getting good at making spring rolls only comes after having made many ugly, broken ones.

We've never been in a position to have Tony cook for us, but we were pleasantly surprised. Tony's a great cook. If I could, I'd have him cook for me everyday. Though I've only said this to a handful of people, no one's ever taken my offer for some reason. I'm not sure why.

Hurricane Ike Evacuation, Part 4

Our fourth night as evacuees was spent at my mom's house. This night was special because she was hosting a prayer session in honor of my grandparents and great-grandparents. When she told me this, I was expecting a group of about 10-15 close friends over for dinner and prayer. But oh did I underestimate my mama. Her guestlist included over 70 guests and she prepared the feast for all the guest virtually single-handed.

It wasn't until the 11th hour did she ask for help, i.e., the event started at 7pm and she didn't call on us until 10am that morning. She bought all the groceries herself. The night before the event, she was up until 4 am preparing ingredients for sausage, two types of sticky rice, congee (rice porridge), stir-fried noodles and more. By the time we arrived to help, she had gotten most things to the point she just needed to combine items and put over fire. However, she did need me to grate the cucumbers. The problem was she didn't have a grater. So instead, I had to use a peeler. Yes, one of those things that peels the skin off potatoes and carrots, I used that. To effectively grate 20 lbs of cucumbers for the Vietnamese salad called goi. Yes, 20 lbs!!! I've never hated cucumbers more in my life.

Since I was busy grating cucumbers, I didn't get any fotos of the prep work. But here are some of the results:


Clockwise from the purple rice: purple sticky rice, peanut sticky rice, goi (Vietnamese salad, yay me for grating 20 lbs of cucumbers), stir-fried beef noodles, eggrolls, and fried shrimp chips. The coloring of the purple sticky rice is just for show. Sometimes it made red or just left as plain white. The peanut sticky rice is white sticky rice mixed with peanuts boiled soft so that it almost serves as a creamy compliment to the sweet rice. Because I grew up eating it, I never really knew what it was, but wikipedia can tell you more about sticky rice. The beef noodles are similar to what you'd find at a Chinese restaurant, except my mama's dish is much better. It's not drowned in sauce, not too salty and with a good balance of beef, veggies and rice noodles.


For those of you a bit squimish, you may want to skip to the next foto. Here are platters of all things pork not served in 99% of restaurants. In no particular order (because it's all mixed together), there's boiled pork intestine, stomach, tongue, belly, ear and liver. These tasty tidbits were added to the congee made with coagulated pig blood. If the previous 2 sentences sparked more intrigue than indigestion, consider yourself a foodie.


Here's the home-made sausage. Well, technically my mama only prepared the filling and had the sausages stuffed by professionals, though I'm sure she seriously considered doing it herself. As you can see that unlike the sausage at the store, which is comprised of evenly ground meats, this sausage is purposedly chunky. Though I'm unsure why we wouldn't just leave the meat chunks out for eat as is, it sure tastes good.

Though there were many other food items, I didn't get more fotos because with over 70 on the guestlist, once the food is laid out, no one waits for the cameraman to get a shot. I'll end this post with some words of wisdom: NEVER get in the way of a woman with a huge pot of boiling soup.

Ike Evacuation, Part 2

Our second night back was spent at my wife's aunt's place where it's obvious she shares my mother-in-law's hatred of hunger.


Clockwise from the watermelon chunks: mango salad, eggrolls and fried shrimp crackers, fresh greens, rice noodles with pork and various condiments. In addition to this fotos, she also steamed some beautiful blue crabs. However, there's no fotos of the crabs because I was too excited and forgot, which seems to happen more often than I'd like.


Here's a close-up of the mango salad. This is traditionally prepared with green papaya instead of mango, but my aunt-in-law was experimenting. But unlike my high-school chemistry class, this experiment was wildly successful. The mango was tender, the cucumbers were crisp, the peanuts were crunchy, the shrimp was firm and the herbs were flavorful. All this tossed in a light mixture of vinegar and sugar makes for a refreshing salad that easily fills you up without the guilt.


Of course the salad has to be guilt-free because here is where all the guilt lies, home-made eggrolls and fried shrimp crackers. Eggrolls are the Vietnamese equivalent to the hamburger. Everyone makes them slightly different and it's very hard to mess up. These were delicious; I had three after I was already full, just to make sure I was full. I think she uses a shrimp and pork mixture. The shrimp crackers are always a favorite of mine. You can buy these things packaged at the store where they look and feel like little squares of uncooked lasagna. However, toss these babies into a pot of boiling oil for 30 seconds and they'll expand into what you see here, crunchy salty shrimp-flavored wafers that make me feel like a kid again. What I like to do with them is just put them against my tongue and as it dissolves on my tongue, a strange vacuum is created causing it to stick. To me, this phenomena is undeniable proof that I was meant to eat it.

Ike Evacuation, Part 1

Though Hurricane Ike caused some major damage to the Houston area and my neighborhood, one of the silver linings of Ike's storm clouds is that the wife and I spent another weekend in Dallas with some great home-cooking from our families.

We had dinner at my mother-in-law's the first night back and here's what she made:


My mother-in-law felt adventurous this day and experimented with chicken tenders. She created her own batter and served it with a traditional Vietnamese dipping sauce. The combination worked great and I ended up eating much more than I should have.


This tofu soup is a traditional Vietnamese soup. Though this dish and some rice is typically all a person would need for a meal, my mother-in-law must have decided that, since we were evacuees, we must also be suffering from famine because she also served the following:


She served some stewed catfish and steamed chicken. As you can see, hunger is four-letter word in my mother-in-law's home. Of course I'm not complaining, rather merely stating a wonderful fact.

Mama's cooking

While in Dallas over the weekend, I got to enjoy some of my wife's mama's cooking. Whenever we visit her, she always sends us home with at least 3 dishes. Though the leftovers are delicious, there's nothing like enjoying home-cooking fresh of the heat.

So here are some of the dishes we got to stuff in our face. The fotos are only of those dishes prepared by my mother-in-law. Sdaly, I forgot to take fotos of my mama's dishes for posting. Thank goodness she doesn't have internet otherwise her feelings might be hurt.


This was congee, which is a type of rice porridge. This one was made with sea bass and garnished with green onions. Congee, like ramen, provides a bottom-less bowl of possibilities. You could have congee with poultry, beef, pork, eggs, veggies, tofu, SPAM, anything.


The next meal consisted of stewed pork and hard-boiled eggs served with stir-fried spinach. This is similary to the recipe I used on beef shanks recently. At first, the thought of pork and hard-boiled eggs seem odd for a stew, but it's just as good of a pairing as bacon and eggs.


And for dessert, simply strawberries. These were some of the most beautiful strawberries I'd ever seen. Their near perfect red complexion almost seemed to have been painted on by a team of food artists, but yet, they had merely been rinsed under the faucet and served. These morsels of mother nature were very sweet and juicy and completely satisfied my sweet tooth, which sometimes seems insatiable.

Though my mother-in-law's cooking is difference than my mama's, it's just as yummy. One thing the two mamas have in common is they both are compelled to make much more food than necessary. Though I've tried to explain that exceeding expectations isn't always necessary, it never sticks. What makes their food so great is the passion with which they cook. They spend a significant part of the day cooking. As if the act of cooking wasn't time consuming enough, they spend plenty of brain power planning the meals, determing the courses, shopping for ingredients and taking no shortcuts when it comes to cook time. For the longest time, I couldn't understand why sometimes it feels they're only a few seconds away from force-feeding us. But now I realize that this is their way of loving us. My wife and I are no longer little children for them to hug and pinch our cheeks. To get around that, they make us pinch our bellies. The time they spend cooking for us would be enough for them to throw a Martha Stewart-style party. But instead, it's all for us. And though we tell them we love them, it's no substitute for us eating everything they serve us.

In light of approaching Hurricane Ike, we'll be visiting Dallas again this weekend for more gluttony. Unlike our last visit, I'll remember to bring the camera to my mom's house too.

Braised Beef

The other night I made braised beef. It was an experiment actually. My wife had a company dinner so I was left to fend for myself. In the fridge was about 2 lbs. of beef shank originally intended for osso bucco. However, I felt adventurous and decided to experiment, i.e., I didn't want to go through the hassles of a fancy Milanese recipe.

Being a lazy bum, I braised the shanks using a simple Vietnamese recipe that's intended for pork.

2 lbs. beef shank
3 tablespoon sugar
3 tablespoon fish sauce
2 cups boiling water
pepper

Add the sugar to a pot on medium heat (I used a clay pot but any will do). Let sugar become a dark caramel, somewhere between the point of caramelizing and burning. Add the water and fish sauce, stir and bring to a boil. Add the beef shanks and reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer for at least an hour, periodically checking liquid levels. Add as much pepper as you'd like and serve. That's it; nice and simple, like me.



With my first bite, it was obvious this recipe was meant for pork. The beef flavor overpowered the sauce. Now don't get me wrong, I loved the tender beef as much as I loved the fatty sauce it simmered in, but I just loved them separately. After living my whole life with this dish made only with pork, it took a some time to acclimate.



I had it with some boiled spinach. This dish is an example of the heart of most Vietnamese meals. Stewed protein served with boiled veggies on top of a bed of rice. This maybe the origin of my love for well-balanced dishes. The earthy veggies checks against the salty, fatty beef all balanced with the bland rice resulting in a ménage à trois for your taste buds.

All in all, though it wasn't a combination I was used to, I'd make it again. Especially since I got to enjoy some delicious marrow, AKA butter of the gods.

Update: My wife and I had the leftovers the following night and she said she loved it. Though I'd like to believe her, I can't help to think what she really meant was that she loved me for trying. =D