Nov 2007

Taj Mahal – Ho Chi Minh City

October 30, 2007 and November 12, 2007
Cuisine: Indian, Halal

241/1 Pham Ngu Lao Street
District 1, Ho Chi Minh City

Phone: 2461108
Website: none

Keema Samosa (25,000 VND)

Vegetable Samosa (20,000 VND)

Salad – tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, vinaigrette (complimentary)

Chappati (8,000 VND)

Plain Naan (10,000 VND)

Garlic Naan (15,000 VND)

Plain Parauntha (10,000 VND)

Palak Paneer (25,000 VND)

Mutton Curry (50,000 VND)

Mutter Keema (40,000 VND)

Plain Daal (20,000 VND)

Mutton Korma (55,000 VND)

Chicken Tikka Masala (50,000 VND)

Since my arrival in Saigon three months ago, I have not strayed far from local fare. I am a purist at heart and staunchly oppose eating non-Vietnamese cuisines while in Vietnam. Personally, the idea of going out for Spanish paella or Brazilian churrascaria just strikes me as unnatural and completely out of context.

No nuoc mam, no thanks!

It was not until recently when I was taken out to lunch by The Astronomer that I began to rethink my preconceived notions about locality and cuisine. Our midday destination was an Indian restaurant located in a narrow alleyway within the backpacker quarter. The restaurant’s sheltered location assures that the distracting sounds of the city are kept in the background.

Muhammad Zaman opened Taj Mahal eight years ago after he noticed a shortage of South Asian cuisine on a visit to Vietnam. In addition to owning the restaurant, Zaman also serves as its executive chef. With over 20 years of cooking experience under his belt, Zaman takes great pride in preparing Halal dishes from the northern region of India. His personal favorite dish served at the restaurant is the Chicken Korma.

A surefire way to begin any meal is with an order of samosa, which are served fresh out of the deep fryer and paired with cilantro chutney. The pair of Vegetable Samosas (20,000VND) have a crisp exterior, spicy interior and are stuffed with potatoes, cilantro and onions and seasoned with cumin and curry. My personal favorite starter is the Keema Samosas (25,000VND), which contain a savory blend of lamb and chicken. Spiced just right, these meaty hot pockets really whet one’s appetite.

Taj Mahal’s extensive menu offers an array of dishes highlighting lamb, chicken, seafood and beef. According to Zaman, the Chicken Tandoori, an Indian-style barbecue dish, is the favorite among patrons. The Lamb Curry (50,000VND) was recommended to us by our waitress and did not disappoint. After growing accustomed to gnawing the meat off bones in Vietnamese cuisine, it was pleasant to encounter meat so tender that it fell off the bone with ease. Another standout is the Mutter Keema (40,000VND), an intensely flavorful collection of minced beef, peas, garlic and classic Indian spices.

For a lighter dining experience, a slew of vegetarian dishes are also available at Taj Mahal. Palak Paneer (26,000VND), creamy spinach dappled with cubes of un-aged Paneer cheese, is always a crowd pleaser. The Plain Daal (20,000VND), stewed lentils mildly spiced with turmeric, cumin, onions, and tomatoes, provides a welcomed contrast for the palate.

The best way to experience both meat and vegetarian entrees is with a selection of Indian breads, which range from 8,000-20,000VND. Taj Mahal serves several varieties of Naan, Chapatti and Parauntha. Each type has its own unique texture and density, but all provide excellent vehicles for sopping up the aromatic and delectable gravies. Even though the Chapatti’s light and flaky texture means it’s not the most practical utensil, I find it to be irresistible.

For a change of pace from the usual Vietnamese fare, Taj Mahal offers an ideal and affordable escape.

Indian wins the prize for the least photogenic genre of food.

Nov 2007

Vietnam Airlines

How can a country that produces one of the world’s finest cuisines serve such crap on board their national carrier?

The Astronomer and I took a business trip last week to Da Nang for a staff meeting on board Vietnam Airlines. On the first leg of our flight, we were served a ham and tomato sandwich on a roll. What grossed me out the most was the thick and uneven mayonnaise application. Clearly, the sandwich was not made with love. The Astronomer and I both ate our snack-sized Kit Kat bars and tossed the sandwiches back in the box.

On our flight back to Saigon, we were served another ham sandwich—this one contained cucumber slices and wilted lettuce leaves. Once again, we couldn’t bring ourselves to take a bite. Sadly, there was no chocolate bar to entertain us.

Nov 2007

Bánh Mì Thịt Nướng

Everyday
Cuisine: Vietnamese, Sandwich

Binh Van Dan Street/Ong Lanh Bridge
District 4, Ho Chi Minh City

Phone: none
Website: none

Banh Mi Thit Nuong (5,000 VND)

One of the best parts about living in Vietnam is the opportunity to build relationships with small restaurant owners and street vendors through repeated visits to their establishments. In my case, these relationships tend to be rather superficial due to my limited language skills—usually restricted to an exchange of knowing smiles and a well-placed “Rat Ngon!“—but nevertheless they are quite satisfying.

I recently made a new friend on the drive to work: a man selling banh mi thit nuong from a cart that he pushes daily over Ong Lanh Bridge between District 4 and District 1. I’m a big fan of banh mi—the classic Vietnamese baguette sandwich with meat, pate, fish, or egg—and an even bigger fan of thit nuong, but until recently I had not been lucky enough to enjoy the two combined into a single treat. It turns out banh mi thit nuong is eaten almost exclusively in the morning, and due to my Western prejudices, I’ve been clinging stubbornly to cereal as the breakfast food of choice. However, I think I’m coming around.

Banh mi thit nuong vendors typically carry a small grill directly on their cart and cook up fresh pork slabs throughout the morning. My man cooks the meat in small pieces on skewers—bite-sized tidbits that are perfect for a sandwich. He expertly slices open a baguette with scissors (this rivals the ubiquitous rubber band magic for the most impressive feat I’ve seen from a street vendor), loads in the thit nuong off one skewer, adds a bit of bi (a mixture of pork and pork skin) and a generous helping of scallion oil and do chua (pickled vegetables), and tops it all off with a dousing of nuoc mam.

It really doesn’t get any better than this. Thit nuong with nuoc mam is, in my opinion, one of the greatest partnerships ever devised in the culinary world. After my initial discovery of this vendor, I started a banh mi thit nuong eating streak lasting at least 6 or 7 business days. Every morning we pull up behind him as he walks toward District 1; I say “chao anh!” and he turns around with a smile. With The Gastronomer’s help, I have learned that he has one child and sells approximately 50 sandwiches per morning. Sometimes we pass him before he has started his walk, so we now also know where he lives. This bodes well for my future breakfast prospects.

The Gastronomer has so far passed on this terrific opportunity to enjoy thit nuong on the way to work, preferring to stick with her old fibrous standbys from Trader Joes and Maximark. In this respect, at least, I may be more Vietnamese than she is. I’ll admit that grilled meat in the morning still feels a little strange, but I can’t deny that it’s delicious. Why limit yourself to only two truly exciting meals per day?