Aug 2007

Vegetation Profile: Pitaya

IMG_4055

The pitaya (also known as pitahaya, dragon fruit, huǒ lóng guǒ (火龍果/火龙果), strawberry pear, nanettikafruit, or thanh long) is the fruit of several cactus species, especially of the genus Hylocereus, but also see Stenocereus. Native to Mexico and Central and South America, these vine-like epiphytic cacti are also cultivated in Southeast Asian countries such as Vietnam, the Philippines, and Malaysia. They are also found in Taiwan, Okinawa, Israel, and southern China. The pitaya only blooms at night; they are large white flowers that are often called Moonflower or Queen of the Night.

Thanh long is hands down the most visually arresting fruit in all of the land. However, its taste is nowhere near as spectacular as its appearance. Underneath the magenta skin lies the fruit’s white flesh, which is full of tiny, edible seeds. Thanh long tastes similar to a kiwi, but its sweetness is one-dimensional and lacks any sort of tartness. Consuming the entire fruit at once bores my taste buds, so salads are the way to go for enjoying this particular piece of vegetation.

Aug 2007

Vegetation Profile: Pomelo

IMG_4050

The pomelo (or Chinese grapefruit, pummelo, pommelo, jabong, boongon, shaddock, Jeruk Bali or suha), Citrus maxima (Merr., Burm. f.), also Citrus grandis (L.), is a citrus fruit, usually a pale green to yellow when ripe, larger than a grapefruit, with sweet flesh and thick spongy rind.

Pomelos or trai buoi are everywhere in Vietnam; I’m currently in Da Nang and they are just as ubiquitous as they were down south in Saigon. The fruit’s pith is extremely bitter and thick, but the flesh tastes like a cross between a grapefruit, lemon, and orange. Although it’s difficult to tell from the picture, Pomelos are extremely large. They can grow to be 30 centimeters in diameter and weighing as much as 10 kilograms. A single pormelo costs approximately 6,000 VND. The pomelo is native to South East Asia, but is also grown in California and Florida.

Aug 2007

Nhà Hàng Món Huế – Ho Chi Minh City

IMG_4119

August 18, 2007
Cuisine: Vietnamese

7 Cao Thang Street
District 3, Ho Chi Minh City

Phone: 0982337779
Website: none

IMG_4107

Com Hen (25,000 VND)

IMG_4112

Com Am Phu (25,000 VND)

IMG_4109

Goi Mit (25,000 VND)

IMG_4116

Cuon Nhip (20,000 VND)

The Astronomer: One of the great things about being in Vietnam is hanging out with The Gastronomer’s extended family. Knowing some locals ensures that we’ll be introduced to the best eating establishments that the city has to offer, from fancy restaurants to her great aunt’s dining room. Of course, we haven’t been doing too badly wandering around blindly on our own either…

Last Saturday we met up with Huan, one of the younger family members, and his girlfriend for dinner. After extensive research, I have determined that he is a second cousin. In any case, he’s a nice guy, and for his part, he said we were de thuong (easy to like). Unfortunately, our friends didn’t speak much English, and my acquisition of Vietnamese is proceeding at a snail’s pace, so I was often left to guess at the topic of conversation. Nevertheless, I had a good time.

We let Huan choose the restaurant—he selected an attractive establishment specializing in food from the city of Hue. We were led up the stairs and seated at a table by the window. The cool breeze was a blessing and we had a nice view of the bustling street below.

The Gastronomer, Huan, and his girlfriend, Thu, all ordered the Com Hen—a warm rice dish with sauteed clams, pork and clam juice, while I went with the Com An Phu—orange rice with shrimp and chopped cucumbers. Within my first few bites, I regretted my decision. The Com An Phu was nothing special and less flavorful than a number of rice dishes I’ve eaten at dirty hole-in-the-walls. However, after I doused the whole thing in fish sauce, things began to look up. Honestly, the proper application of nuoc mam can make just about any dish delicious.

The Com Hen was really unique—served in a deep bowl instead of on a plate like a typical rice dish, it boasted a cool combination of flavors and textures that nicely complemented the hot ground chili mixed in. I was quite impressed by my first bite, but soon realized that the spiciness was too much for my weak-ass American palate to handle. If The Gastronomer hadn’t removed about 90% of the crushed chilis originally included in the bowl, I think I would have died. Being infinitely stronger than me, The Gastronomer thought her final concoction was quite perfect.

In addition to our main courses, we shared a plate of Goi Mit—a cool salad made of young jackfruit, herbs, and minced pork. It is eaten with banh trang (crunchy sesame crackers). The Goi Mit was the highlight of the meal for me. I really love salads that mix sweet and savory, and the banh trang was an excellent vehicle for delivering it to my mouth. I probably consumed more than my fair share and by the time everything was gone, I was stuffed.

Huan and Thu, on the other hand, were hungry for more. They ordered some cuon nhip-–pork wrapped in lettuce leaves and tied with a chive blossom. The peanut dipping sauce didn’t look terribly appealing to me, so I decided to pass. The Gastronomer reported that the rolls were nothing special, but the sauce was very good.

All-in-all, I had a pleasant experience at Mon Hue, although I was a bit disappointed by my entree. The atmosphere was comfortable, and prices, while higher than the typical street-side eatery, were still stunningly reasonable. I’m looking forward to re-uniting with Huan and Thu for another meal in the coming weeks.