Gastronomy Blog by Cathy Chaplin

Street Food

24 Mar 2008

Bánh Chuối Hấp

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Although it was just a marketing campaign by Chaquita, I really do think that bananas are “quite possibly, the world’s perfect food.” Besides being packed with oodles of nutrients, bananas are low-maintenance and deliciously versatile.

I love bananas squished between a peanut butter and honey sandwich, I love them gooey and caramelized atop vanilla ice cream, and I especially love them in the form of bánh chuối hấp.

Bánh chuối (literally “banana cake”) is a sweet banana cake or bread pudding from Vietnam. Although its exact ingredients may vary, it is usually made with ripe bananas or plantains, coconut milk, sugar, white bread, shredded young coconut, condensed milk, butter, eggs, and vanilla extract. In the finished dish, the cooked banana often appears purplish-red in color.

Can you believe that Wikipedia has an entry for bánh chuối? Incredible.

The version I had of bánh chuối was steamed (hấp) and generously doused in a sweet and salty coconut milk with tiny tapioca pearls and sprinkled with toasted sesame seeds. The accoutrements highlighted the banana’s natural sweetness and slight zing. At 2,000 VND a pop, bánh chuối is indeed good, clean and tasty fun.

Restaurant Review

21 Mar 2008

Au Parc – Ho Chi Minh City

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March 12, 2008
Cuisine: French, Mediterranean

23 Han Thuyen Street
District 1, Ho Chi Minh City

Phone: 8292772
Website: none

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Hummus served with crudites, grissini and flat bread (45,000 VND)

Fresh tuna salad with wasabi and ginger mayonnaise on baguette (65,000 VND)

Ham, Cheddar cheese and salad classic on baguette (70,000 VND)

Carrot cheesecake (60,000 VND)

Chocolate nemesis cake (50,000 VND)

Raspberry and apple crumble (50,000 VND)

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Au Parc is arguably the most popular expatriate joint in the city. While I usually stick to local Vietnamese eateries that are cheap and good, curiosity sometimes gets the best of me. I visited Au Parc the other week with The Astronomer, Zach and Thomas to try some fish sauce-less offerings from their Mediterranean and North African menu.

Thomas and I shared a serving of hummus to start. The portion was meager and the hummus tasted dangerously average. Although it’s been years since my Swarthmore days, I still compare foods that I encounter to that of my college dining hall. The food at Sharples wasn’t anything special, but because the menu repeated every two weeks for four long years, the flavors are forever seared into my palate. The hummus at Swarthmore’s salad bar had a lot more kick than the one served at Au Parc, which is a shame. The crudités and breadsticks were harmless, while the flat bread was actually quite appealing.

For my entrée, I ordered a “fresh tuna salad with wasabi and ginger mayonnaise on a baguette.” The sandwich was supposed to be served on a house made bagel, but the restaurant was fresh out by the time I dined. However, the baguette made a fine substitution.

Truth be told, I was expecting “fresh” tuna salad (i.e. not Chicken of the Sea) and was disappointed when the sandwich arrived. However, after a couple of bites, I completely adored the creation. The wasabi-tinged fish chunks along with the arugula provided a double punch of wonderful spiciness, while the baguette was moist and substantial. The sandwich was served with a lovely cucumber, tomato and herb salad.

The Astronomer’s ham and cheese sandwich was a bit of a letdown. Each component was humdrum, which resulted in a decent but boring sandwich. Zach’s roast beef and Thomas’ pastrami were more or less the same story.

While the sandwiches can be hit or miss at Au Parc, the desserts are for the most part winners—just don’t pay much attention to the menu descriptions.

Zach’s carrot cheesecake, adorned with an oozy passion fruit syrup, was not so much carroty as orangey. Although the flavor was completely off, the texture was right on and the graham cracker crust was nice and buttery.

Thomas’ chocolate nemesis cake was a decadent and gooey delight. I stole only a few bites but could have definitely eaten the whole thing solo. If I were on a diet, this cake would totally be my nemesis.

The Astronomer and I shared a raspberry and apple crumble, because raspberries are The Astronomer’s favorite fruit and it’s been ages since he’s enjoyed them. We were disappointed to find that the crumble contained apples and raisins, but no sign of raspberries. Major detail aside, the crumble was warm and tart and paired well with the vanilla ice cream.

Glad I got that out of my system. Now, pass the fish sauce!

Saigon

20 Mar 2008

Vegetation Profile: Soursop

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The Soursop is adapted to areas of high humidity and relatively warm winters, temperatures below 5 °C will cause damage to leaves and small branches, and temperatures below 3 °C can be fatal.

Comparisons of its flavor range from strawberry and pineapple mixed together to sour citrus flavour notes contrasting with an underlying creamy roundness of flavor reminiscent of coconut or banana. The fruit is somewhat difficult to eat, as the white interior pulp is studded with many large seeds, and pockets of soft flesh are bounded by fibrous membranes. The soursop is therefore usually juiced rather than eaten directly.

Nutritionally, the fruit is high in carbohydrates, particularly fructose. The fruit also contains significant amounts of vitamin C, vitamin B1, and vitamin B2. The fruit, seeds, and leaves have a number of herbal medicinal uses among indigenous peoples of regions where the plant is common.

In Saigon, soursops (mãng cầu xiêm) are primarily used for making smoothies (sinh to) because they are too big to be eaten in one sitting and contain stubborn seeds that can be difficult to remove. In fact, I had a soursop smoothie before tasting an actual soursop.

All this changed a couple of weeks ago when The Astronomer and I purchased a whole soursop for 23,000 VND in Binh Thanh District. Since it was quite ripe, I carried it like a baby on the motorbike to make sure it didn’t bruise.

After refrigerating it overnight, we dug in the following afternoon. The soursop’s peel was a cinch to get off and didn’t even require a knife. I cut the fruit into chunks, which did require a knife. True to its name, the soursop is indeed sour, it’s also unbelievably juicy and a smidgen fibrous.

It took us five whole days to eat the entire thing and I found that with each progressive day, the soursop grew sweeter. When I first ate the fruit, my mouth felt a little raw due to its acidity, but that totally subsided by day three. Cool beans.