Archive for the 'Bun Thit Nuong/Xao' Category

Noodle Guy – Alhambra

Noodle Guy - Alhambra

Friday night called for something warm and comforting for dinner. It’s been one of the mildest winters in recent memory, but temps hovered in the fifties this evening and storms were rolling in from points north. After assessing the possibilities in and around the neighborhood, The Astronomer and I decided that a short drive to Alhambra for Vietnamese beef noodle soup was the order of the day.

Noodle Guy - Alhambra

Noodle Guy, not to be confused with Noodle King two doors down or Noodle Boy in nearby Rosemead, serves Vietnam’s greatest hits. From broken rice to spring rolls, there’s enough variety here to fill a thick, spiral-bound booklet. However, glancing around the dining room, it seemed that most everyone was burying their faces into a big bowl of pho.

Noodle Guy - Alhambra

Taking a cue from my fellow Noodle Guy-goers, I ordered a bowl of pho bo dac biet. Beneath the heap of chopped cilantro and sliced onions was a bed of rice noodles and a delectable collection of meaty odds and ends including flank, brisket, tendon, and tripe.

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Thịt Nướng – Vietnamese Grilled Pork

Thit Nuong - Vietnamese Grilled Pork

The Astronomer doesn’t care too much for receiving “stuff” on his birthdays, so I gifted him homemade thịt nướng with all the fixings in celebration of his 27th last weekend. Vietnamese grilled pork has been on my lengthy list of things to master for quite some time, so this was the perfect occasion to finally learn how to prepare one of our all-time favorite dishes from scratch.

I employed my aunt Phuong’s recipe for the all-important marinade. Made from an aromatic mix of shallots, garlic, lemongrass, honey, fish sauce, and sesame oil, the marinade mingled with the meat overnight to ensure that every bit of pork was permeated. To pair with the protein, I prepped some scallion oil, pickled carrots and daikon, toasted crushed peanuts, and a jar-full of nước chấm (Vietnamese dipping sauce). Crispy fried shallots were purchased at the local Asian grocery store.

After allowing the meat to marry with the marinade, I fired up the grill, loaded up the “meat cage,” and cooked everything up in several batches. With four pounds of pork to plow through, The Astronomer and I were each treated to half a dozen bowls of bún (vermicelli rice noodles), as well as several loaves of bánh mì for the better part of a week. Thịt nướng is truly the gift that keeps on giving.

  • 4 pounds pork butt or top sirloin, thinly sliced approximately 1/4 inch thick
  • 3 shallots, finely minced
  • 5 cloves garlic, finely minced
  • 1/2 cup lemongrass, finely minced
  • 3 tablespoons white sesame seeds
  • 3 1/2 tablespoons sugar
  • 1 tablespoon salt
  • 1/2 tablespoon black pepper
  • 1 teaspoon MSG (optional)
  • 2 tablespoons honey
  • 3 tablespoons fish sauce
  • 1 tablespoon sesame oil
  • 1/2 tablespoon vegetable oil

Thit Nuong - Vietnamese Grilled Pork

Combine all ingredients from shallots through vegetable oil in a large bowl. Add the sliced pork to the bowl. Using your hands, massage the meat and marinade to make sure that the marinade is evenly distributed and coats every slice of meat. Allow the meat to soak in the marinade overnight or for up to 24 hours.

Thit Nuong - Vietnamese Grilled Pork

Traditionally, thịt nướng is cooked on a grill employing a “meat cage.” These devices can be purchased in the housewares section of any well-stocked Chinese or Vietnamese supermarket. If one cannot be located, the pork can be skewered onto bamboo sticks that have been soaked in water for 20 minutes.

If using a meat cage, coat evenly with non-stick spray and layer the pork only one slice deep to ensure even cooking.

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Golden Deli – San Gabriel

Golden Deli is considered to be Los Angeles’ best Vietnamese restaurant by many discerning diners. It’s too early in the game for me to chime in on which Vietnamese eatery I think is the city’s best, but Golden Deli is definitely an all-around solid joint.

In comparison to Cơm Tấm Thuận Kiều and arch-nemesis Vietnam House, Golden Deli has a spiffier and warmer interior. Pleasant ambiance isn’t something I seek out in Vietnamese restaurants, but I appreciate it where it’s found. The people who work here are also really fantastic—I had fun conversing with our waiter in my growing-worse-by-the-day Vietnamese.

My friend Carissa and I dined at Golden Deli on a random weekday for lunch. Even though the space was packed to the rafters, we didn’t have to wait long for a table to open up. We started off our midday Vietnamese banquet with an order of Golden Deli’s famous cha gio ($5.75). According to LA Weekly’s Jonathan Gold, “Golden Deli has the best cha gio, fried Vietnamese spring rolls, in the observable universe.”

The cha gio here are hefty and generously stuffed with ground pork, wood ear mushrooms, glass noodles, and carrots. The plate of greens and herbs served with the rolls was plentiful, and the nuoc cham was just right. There’s no doubt that Golden Deli churns out a tasty cha gio, but like a lot of Vietnamese foods found in these here parts, they’re far too large. As a result of their bulk, oil tends to cling to the wrappers, creating a heavier overall package.

Vietnamese food, even of the deep-fried variety, should always be light and fresh. The title of best cha gio in the observable universe goes to my great aunt Ba Sau—her pinky-sized rolls with perfectly blistered wrappers are unrivaled.

Carissa requested that I order her something fabulous, so I chose one of my all-time faves—com tam bi cha thit nuong trung opla ($7.95). The broken rice platter was comprised of three awesomely delicious and awesomely different pork preparations, along with two fried eggs. Carissa’s favorite was the tender pork loaf. She gave me a taste and I was very impressed—the loaf was steamed to perfection and tasted just like grandma’s.

I ordered a bowl of bun thit nuong chao tom ($6.25)—cool vermicelli rice noodles topped with grilled pork, grilled shrimp paste, crushed peanuts, fried shallots, and scallion oil. Beneath the noodles and meat were a heap of bean sprouts, shredded lettuce, and herbs. The bun thit nuong chao tom was highly enjoyable but would’ve been better if the shrimp paste had been served with its traditional sugarcane skewer. In a city brimming with great Vietnamese eats, it’s the little details that give one restaurant an edge over the others. Show me the sugarcane.

Golden Deli
815 W. Las Tunas Drive
San Gabriel, CA 91776
Phone: 626-308-0803

Golden Deli on Urbanspoon

Golden Deli in Los Angeles

Cơm Tấm Thuận Kiều – San Gabriel

For one of our first meals out on the town, The Astronomer and I met up with veteran L.A. blogger Wandering Chopsticks. The evening’s destination was admittedly unoriginal, but I was craving a cool bowl of bun (vermicelli rice noodles), and WC knew a great place in nearby San Gabriel.

The San Gabriel Valley has the largest concentration of Chinese-American communities in the United States and a robust Vietnamese population as well. Driving to the restaurant, we passed by all sorts of awesome looking ethnic eats that I am muy excited to try—exploring this culinary landscape is going to rock!

Prior to arriving at Cơm Tấm Thuận Kiều, WC warned us that the place was a bit dirty, but after surviving the squatters in China, I wasn’t too worried.

Our group of three started with an order of cha gio ($5.50), which came with herbs, greens and a few cucumber spears. Nuoc mam was served on the side for dipping. The rolls were served hot out of the fryer and tasted fantastic—crispy blistered skin with well-seasoned porky innards. Unlike Ba Sau’s pinky-legnth cha gio in Saigon, these were super-sized to satisfy American appetites. After eating my portion of the cha gio, I was quite full and could’ve called it a night. However, I still had an entree coming my way.

WC and I ordered the same dish—bun chao tom nem nuong cha gio. Now, that’s a mouthful! Literally! The bottom of the bowl was covered with fresh bean sprouts, shredded lettuce and herbs. Next, a nest of vermicelli rice noodles. And lastly, the meat—egg rolls (cha gio), meat balls (nem nuong) and shrimp paste wrapped around sugarcane (chao tom). The bowl of bun was garnished with pickled carrots and daikon, scallion oil, peanuts, and fried shallots. The noodles were solid, with the exception of the sugarcane-less chao tom and slightly rubbery nem nuong. WC postulated that the meat balls were reheated rather than grilled to order, hence their unsavory texture. Portion-wise, the bowl was the size of a stadium. If there’s a next time, I’m definitely sharing my noodles with another.

The Astronomer stuck to the broken rice side of the menu and settled on com tam bi suon nuong ($4.99)—broken rice with grilled pork chops and shredded pork. It’s been three months since Vietnam and I still can’t get over how ginormous Vietnamese-American portions are; the slab of grilled pork was the size of my face. It’s a good thing The Astronomer is a powerful eater.

The three of us left Cơm Tấm Thuận Kiều stuffed to the gills.

Com Tam Thuan Kieu
120 E Valley Blvd., Unit E
San Gabriel, CA 91776
Phone: 626-280-5660

Com Tam Thuan Kieu on Urbanspoon

Com Tam Thuan Kieu in Los Angeles

Phở Quê Hương – Birmingham

The day after my first solo foray into home-cooked Vietnamese food (sorry, I was too busy concentrating on the task at hand to take pictures), my mom and I met my Dad for lunch at Birmingham’s original Vietnamese restaurant, Pho Que Huong. This place has been around since at least the mid-90s, but now that they finally have some competition, I wondered how they were measuring up.

The menu at Pho Que Huong is pretty diverse—the kind of all-over-the-place one-stop shop that you would expect at a location that has long had to satisfy an entire city’s Vietnamese food cravings. My mom and I spent some time exploring our options while we waited for my Dad to arrive. Strangely, our waiter looked Indian rather than Vietnamese, and when I settled on the bun bo Hue, he asked, “Sorry, what number is that? I don’t speak Vietnamese.” Hmmm… I had assumed he was the husband of one of the cooks or cashiers, but I would have thought he’d at least have learned the names of the foods by now.

I suggested that we start the meal with a plate of goi tom thit. The salad was perfect, with just the right amount of tartness and a nice collection of herbs mixed in. And of course, it featured a hefty American helping of juicy shrimp and pork.

My Dad went with the bun thit nuong cha gio. Just like at Pho Hoang, the cha gio were made with inferior Chinese egg roll wrappers, but the meaty innards tasted pretty darn good. Although the nuoc cham wasn’t the best I’ve had, the dish came together quite well.

I was disappointed with my bun bo at first—the flavors just weren’t quite what I was expecting—but it grew on me, and I ended up deciding it was a solid bowl of noodles. I was too full and sweaty to drink the broth at the end of the meal, but we took it home in a Tupperware to eat with some banh pho we had at the house.

After extensive deliberation, my Mom decided to order the banh xeo. Paired with our noodle bowls, it made for a bit of an unconventional meal, but I always like to encourage my parents to try new things. The banh xeo was an interesting hybrid of the southern and central Vietnamese styles: about eight inches in diameter, it was crispy, thick, and overflowing with shrimp and meat. Plenty of greens were provided for wrapping. The overall flavor couldn’t quite match the best of Da Nang-style banh xeo in Vietnam, but I think it actually surpassed the offerings at Saigon’s world-famous Banh Xeo 46A.

The next day I stopped by Pho Que Huong again to pick up a sandwich for lunch. Even at the outrageous price of $4.50, banh mi thit nuong was my obvious choice. I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed when I got home and opened it: there was no sauce to speak of, just strips of grilled pork with pickled vegetables and cilantro. It was actually an excellent sandwich, as far as sandwiches go, but sadly I was expecting more. The portion size was also rather small for the price—nothing like the sweet deals I’ve gotten on banh mi in California (to compare Birmingham with Vietnam wouldn’t even be fair, but for the record, in Saigon, $4.50 = 15 sandwiches).

Pho Que Huong
430 Green Springs Hwy.
Homewood, Alabama
Phone: 205-942-5400

Pho Que Vietnamese on Urbanspoon

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