Che
Sep 2008

New Threads and Breakin' Bread in Chinatown

District 5, also known as Cho Lon, is home to Saigon’s Chinese population. Unlike Chinatowns in America, the shift from neighboring districts into Cho Lon isn’t nearly as dramatic—there isn’t an ornate archway like in Philly. On the surface, District 5 more or less resembles every other district in this sprawling metropolis but with the addition of Chinese characters on storefronts, and maybe a few more steamed bun carts.

The Astronomer and I ventured into Cho Lon to Christmas shop last December, but haven’t found any reason to return since. That was until Hanh, The Astronomer’s Vietnamese teacher, mentioned that she knew a kick-ass tailor in that part of town. Like my good pal Miss Adventure said, getting custom made clothes can be a real treat.

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On one very ordinary weekday evening, The Astronomer, Hanh and I ventured to Cho Lon to get some new threads made. Prior to our visit to the tailor, The Astronomer and I went fabric shopping at Cho Tan Dinh on Hai Ba Trung Street in District 1. I commissioned two dresses to be made—a replica of a dress I purchased in Bangkok and a dress designed by Theory (above) that I took pictures of when I was back in California. The Astronomer commissioned a pair of corduroy pants and a T-shirt. After the tailor took our measurements and collected a deposit, we headed to a nearby che (Vietnamese sweet soups) shop (Che Thanh Tam – 98 Bui Huu Nghia Street, District 5) for a bite to eat.

I grossed out both of my dining companions by ordering the che me den—sweet black sesame seed soup. The che was served warm and resembled tar, but trust me, it really tasted great. The flavors were sweet, full and nutty. It was even better than the cold black sesame seed Jell-O that I enjoyed so much in Hong Kong at the roast goose eatery.

Hanh started off with a faux tofu che that was less fun than a box of rocks. The cubes of “tofu” were made of agar, and even though they were supposed to be flavored with pandan and ginger, they didn’t bring much to the table.

She also ordered a che with bitter beans/nuts because she wanted to introduce The Astronomer and me to something new. Hanh really dug it, but it just wasn’t our cup of tea. Please holla (or just leave a comment) if you know the name of this not so sweet treat.

To supplement her two che, Hanh ordered a bowl of pig brain soup (sup oc heo) from the eatery next door. While I’m down with brains, I don’t really like the consistency of Vietnamese-style sup. The broth is just too gelatinous.

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Not much of a che enthusiast, The Astronomer ordered a bowl of mi vit tiem from Quyen Ky Mi Gia which was located on the other side of the che shop. The noodles and greens arrived in one bowl, while the broth and duck leg came in a clay pot. The ratio of meat to noodles was insanely skewed—The Astronomer had to order an extra helping of noodles to balance it out. After enjoying the lunch lady’s version, this bowl of mi vit tiem paled in comparison, especially since it cost four times as much.

A couple weeks later, The Astronomer and I returned to the tailor to pick up our new apparel. He didn’t get everything right the first time around, but after a few refittings, we left his shop extremely happy clients. Here are my new dresses! And here’s where you should go if you’d like to get some custom made clothes in Saigon (bring a Vietnamese speaker along): Le Phuc – Tailor Extraordinaire (430/1 Phan Van Tri Street, District 5, Ho Chi Minh City. Phone: 0908006538.

Sep 2008

Bò Né – Vietnamese Steak ‘n’ Eggs

Now that I’ve gotten over my stubborn “no meat in the morning” complex, breakfast options have gotten a bit more interesting. Whether it’s cold meatloaf from dinner the night before or plump-ass breakfast sausages, it just feels so right these days to dabble in some egg-less protein before noon. No worries, I haven’t abandoned my whole grain cereal friends.

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On one of our final mornings in Saigon, The Astronomer and I hopped on the motorbike and sought out bo ne—Vietnamese steak ‘n’ eggs. There’s a famous bo ne joint named Nam Son in the city center where I’ve read one can order Australian beef, but we decided to stay in our beloved District 4 for a down home rendition. Plus, I’ve been running past this restaurant for the past year, and it was high time I pulled up a plastic stool and dug in.

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The eatery’s dining room and kitchen are housed in one big sparse and cool room. The menu is written on a dry erase board that hangs on the bare concrete wall. The Astronomer and I ordered a portion of bo ne opla pate—sizzling steak with a sunny side up egg and smear of pate.

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Our delectable plate of steak, eggs and pate was served hot-off-the-stove on a cow-shaped platter. There’s something grotesque, and yet humorous about eating cow upon cow. French fries, a side salad of iceberg, tomatoes and onions, and a toasted baguette were served on the side.

The slices of beef sautéed with onions tasted rich and satisfying thanks to the cook’s heavy hand with the butter. The bread was used as a vehicle for the steak, eggs and pate, and to sop up the grease bath that remained. Oh, Lord it was awesome. It was definitely one of those ‘so bad its good’ type of meals.

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Just as we were finishing up our cow on cow, Hawkins called up, heard what we were downing, and told us he’d be right there. He had what we had and proclaimed it the best breakfast he’s eaten in the country.

And just in case you’re curious about the dish’s name, bo means “cow/beef,” while ne means “to dodge.” When the beef arrives on the sizzling platter, ‘tis best you dodge the greasy cracklings!

Sep 2008

Apocalypse Now – Ho Chi Minh City

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While I’m pretty familiar with Saigon’s dining scene—street and luxe—when it comes to nightlife, I haven’t the foggiest. In fact, I can count the number of times I frequented a club or bar during my year in Vietnam on one hand. Okay, maybe two. Even though I only go out once every blue moon, I always seem to end up at the same shady, yet strangely fun joint—Apocalypse Now. Unlike the wannabe hipster scenes at clubs Lush and Bounce, Apocalypse Now is refreshingly unpretentious. The crowd here is diverse—we’re talking dirty old men accompanied by transvestites (I told you it was wiener time), ladies of the night and regular folks having a good time. While I wouldn’t say the music selection is rockin’, I would say that the wieners are!

The wiener stand, which is located in the courtyard near the back of the club, is almost always busy because the griller takes his sweet sweet time making sure the skin on each dog is nice and crispy and the buns are perfectly toasted. On a Saturday night, expect to wait upwards of 20 minutes for a wiener. To pass the time, I highly recommend people watching.

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Hawkins is muy excited for wiener time to arrive. Truly, who wouldn’t be?

The wieners are served with ketchup and mustard inside a classic Vietnamese banh mi, which is worlds superior to ordinary hot dog buns. While I wouldn’t recommend going out of your way for one of these babies, there’s definitely a time and a place for wieners. Say, after midnight when you’ve had one Tiger too many? This greasy, salty and satisfying creation will soak up the booze nicely. R. Kelly was right, “after the party IS the after party.”

Apocalypse Now
2D Thi Sach Street
District 1, Ho Chi Minh City