Author Archive for Gastronomer

Vegetation Profile: Okra

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 dậu bắp made an appearance in Vietnamese cuisine. I always associated the vegetable with southern specialties like gumbo.

In Vietnam, dậu 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, dậu bắp is pretty much non-existent. Is it just me or has dậu bắp lost its importance in Vietnamese food abroad?

Bánh Lỗ Tai

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 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.

Mực

I don’t cook much in Saigon, but these gorgeous squid inspired me to get into the kitchen and whip up something fresh and delicious. During Tet, The Astronomer and I won some noodles at the Saigon Times New Year’s celebration and they’ve been sitting in the cupboard since then. Not wanting them to go to waste, I decided to make mi xao muc (pan-fried noodles with squid).

The ingredients included two good-sized squid, salt, pepper, scallions, two tomatoes, half a pineapple, okra, green beans, fish sauce and dried egg noodles. This dish was made to my taste, so I don’t have exact measurements.

And here’s the final product. I call this dish Traffic Stopping Squid Noodles due to the red, yellow and green color scheme. Cheesy, I know, but totally delicious too!

Huy Long Viên

April 20, 2008
Cuisine: Chinese

99 Nguyen Du Street
District 1, Ho Chi Minh City

Phone: 823 7799
Website: none

All U Can Eat Dim Sum (120,000 VND per person)

I like everything about dim sum except for the time of day it is consumed. For me, mornings are about whole grains and fresh fruit, not soy sauce and porky oiliness. Don’t get me wrong, I love the swine, just not before 1 PM.

The Astronomer, on the other hand, is always hankering for meaty dumplings. I gave into his wishes a few weeks back because he did lots of research to locate the best dim sum in town.

We headed to Huy Long Viên with Hawkins and Hanh (The Astronomer’s Vietnamese teacher) in tow on a sunny Sunday. Although I wanted to avoid overeating, the all-you-can-eat deal was just too irresistible to pass up. Plus, everyone was doing it and I’m a follower.

Unlike traditional dim sum joints with rolling carts and brash women, here we ordered off a menu and the food was made to order. It was civilized and all, but missing the rowdiness that I love about dim sum places.

The shrimp, beef and pork wrapped in thin rice paper sheets and drizzled with a soy broth were some of my favorites. The shrimp and scallop dumplings were also damn good. However, after a solid hour of dim summing, each container of steamed dumplings started to taste like the previous. And that’s when we knew it was time to get out of there.

The all-you-can-eat option also comes with unlimited desserts. The only item that appealed to Hanh and I was the mango pudding and sadly, they were out. Unfair!

We left Huy Long Viên filled with too much meaty goodness in our tummies. To work off our feast, we headed to a nearby playground…

Here’s Hawk having a dizzying time.

And The Astronomer doing the same. I stayed on the sidelines and snapped away. By the way, playground equipment in Vietnam is much more fun because there’s always an element of danger.

Chả Cá Hà Nội

April 18, 2008
Cuisine: Vietnamese

5A Tran Nhat Duat Street
District 1, Ho Chi Minh City

Phone: 8484240
Website: www.chacahanoi.com.vn

Chả Cá Hà Nội - fried fish fillets with dill and spring onions (89,000 VND per person)

Fixins - vermicelli rice noodles, peanuts, fresh herbs, rice crackers, limes, fish sauce and shrimp paste

Ca Cuong Drops - a pheromone liquid from a tiny gland behind the wings of the male Ca Cuong, a beetle that lives in the rice fields (28,000 VND per drop)

Ever since The Astronomer made his way to Hanoi and tried Chả Cá without me, I’ve been suffering from palette envy. In order to even the score, we headed to Chả Cá Hà Nội in Saigon with our friend Hawkins a few weeks back. I’ll make my way to Hanoi one of these days, but until then, this southern version will have to suffice.

Even though the restaurant is named Chả Cá Hà Nội, it actually serves a number of other dishes, but we came for the house specialty. Before the star of the show arrived, our waitress brought out an array of accouterments including spliced spring onions, noodles, toasted peanuts, herbs, limes chilies, shrimp paste and fish sauce.

Wandering Chopsticks sent me an interesting article a few months back about the joys of pairing water beetle musk with Chả Cá, so we ordered a squirt of ca cuong out of curiosity. I was expecting our waitress to extract juices from an actual beetle, but instead she had a sterile little bottle filled with clear liquid.

I tasted the fish sauce both pre and post beetle droplet and couldn’t tell the difference between the two, which was rather disappointing. We could have shelled out 28,000 more dong for another drop, but were too skeptical (and cheap) to do so. Next time, I’ll just ask the waitress to squirt the musk directly onto my tongue and have the beetle essence permeate the dish that way. To the left is a picture of our waitress adding a drop of water beetle essence into our nuoc mam.

The fish arrived sizzling on a frying pan and was placed on a table-side burner to continue cooking. Our waitress added a pile of greenery including fresh dill and scallions to marinate with the fish.

After the fish and herbs were perfectly melded, we excitedly assembled our bowls of Chả Cá Hà Nội. I began with a cool pile of noodles, added in toasted peanuts and broken bits of rice cracker, spooned on the hot fish and herbs, drizzled on some shrimp paste and squeezed in a smidgen of lime. The end result was not only pretty, but spectacularly delicious too.

I sometimes feel that Vietnamese food can get a little redundant due to the constant employment of pickled vegetables, fish sauce, fresh herbs, etc., but Chả Cá is definitely a unique treat within the genre. What sets this dish apart from other Vietnamese standbys is the pungent shrimp paste and strong shot of dill.

According to The Astronomer, the version we had down south was just as good as the one he enjoyed in Hanoi.