Food, Glorious Food pt. 2!
Hello and xin chào!
Fresh off a nasty ear infection—working with children has really done a number on my immune system—I come to you with another post about food! (Here's a link to the first one.) As before, this'll just be a list of some of the most delicious and/or interesting things I've tried here in Hanoi.
Cơm đảo, which translates as "island rice," has become an unexpected staple meal for me. It's really unclear to me whether it's an actual dish in the cultural sense or something more idiosyncratic: I've only ever seen it one other place in the city, and there's scant information on the internet about it. I often grab it on my way home from work, as there's a place serving it right by my apartment.
A Vietnamese article I found indicates that it's basically white rice that's fried with eggs and no oil, such that the grains become plump and firm without getting greasy. This also turns the rice yellow. I always order it with xá xíu (char siu pork), and on the side, I get some lightly pickled vegetables. (I love the cucumbers, but I'm not a big fan of the mustard greens). On top, I add a generous helping of chili sauce, and by God is it delicious.
I've only had chả cá twice: you generally need to get together a group to eat it, as it's served in a shared frying pan on your table. A local variety of river carp is fried in a secret blend of spices before being dropped into a pan with boiling oil, lemon juice, mắm tôm (shrimp paste), distilled wine, green onions, dill, and basil. Waiters periodically come by to stir everything in the pan while everyone at the table grabs chunks of fish and greens with chopsticks. On the side, you're given bún (rice vermicelli) to put in a small serving bowl alongside your fish. Finally, you can mix together your fish and noodles with a bit of nước mắm (fish sauce), and then you shovel all of this deliciousness into your mouth as you please. At 130,000đ per person (about US$5.50), it's more expensive than most other Vietnamese food, but it is so, so worth it.
This entry is something I've only tried once, but it sure was an interesting experience. After class one day, a few of the Vietnamese staff at one of the centers I work at was going out to have ốc (literally just the word for snails) for another teacher's birthday. Snails are quite popular in Vietnam, so I was excited to get a local introduction to them. There were six of us there huddled around a plastic table replete with dishes I'd never tried before. The centerpiece was a big bowl of snails—still in shells about the size of a quarter—for all of us to share.
Everyone took their own little triangular utensil and used the pointy end to scrape the meat (is that what you call it in this case?) out of the shell opening. You also got your own little bowl of dipping sauce made from ginger, chili, garlic, lemongrass, and fish sauce. With the snail still speared, you dipped it in the fragrant, sour sauce and popped the little nugget into your mouth. As much as I liked the flavor of the sauce, I was not a big fan of the chewiness—it was sort of like rubbery calamari. I've enjoyed buttery escargots à la bourguignonne before, and while I didn't necessarily dislike it, this was just not a texture I'm accustomed to. And though the eating process a bit labor intensive for how little food actually makes it into your mouth, I got a kick out of the novelty of it—especially the specialized utensil!
Now this entry, from the same night as the ốc, is one I decidedly did not eat. Usually known in English by its Tagalog-derived name of balut, trứng vịt lộn (which literally translates to metamorphosing duck egg) is a boiled duck embryo. Unlike a typical, unfertilized egg, these eggs are fertilized, and the embryo is matured to the point that it has bones and some recognizable features, but not a beak, claws, or feathers. The other teacher I was with and my coworkers apparently could see it, but through the thick tamarind sauce it was served in, I could not. I have very mixed feelings about both tamarind and eggs, so this was definitely not for me. There were still big chunks of boiled yolk, and overall I really did not like both the flavor and the texture. It was sure interesting to try, though.
(It was only while writing up this post that I found out how exotic balut is considered in the West—apparently it's been featured on Fear Factor, Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern, and multiple seasons of Survivor. This amuses me greatly given how little thought I gave to trying it.)
I'll close on a sweet note with one of my favorite little snacks here: bánh chuối, or fried bananas. Ordinarily, I'm not a big fan of bananas, but I think the bananas here are a lot better than back home—they're a lot shorter, more flavorful, and sweeter. On my way home from work, I often pass a cart on the side of a busy road (on a bridge actually) where I pull over and get two for 20,000đ ($0.85). These carts are pretty typical here, usually selling sticky rice, bánh mỳ, or various skewered meats.
When I pull up to the cart, I sit on my motorbike and watch the same guy—who knows me by now—peel open bananas and flatten them in some sort of press. Then they get dipped in batter and deep fried. The result is fruity, fried deliciousness. The banana turns into sweet and sour mush, and the batter is rich and lightly crispy. If it weren't for pulling over one night during my commute—my curiosity piqued by the Vietnamese words for breads/pastries and banana—I don't know how I would've known about it.
So concludes the second installation of "Food, Glorious Food!" Will there be a third? I think so. In my last post, I mentioned a grab bag photos of Hanoi. I'm still periodically adding photos to it, so here's the link again if you want to check them out.
Till next time,
Gray
Fresh off a nasty ear infection—working with children has really done a number on my immune system—I come to you with another post about food! (Here's a link to the first one.) As before, this'll just be a list of some of the most delicious and/or interesting things I've tried here in Hanoi.
Cơm đảo
 |
| Char siu pork, vegetables, cơm đảo, and some artfully drizzled chili sauce. |
Cơm đảo, which translates as "island rice," has become an unexpected staple meal for me. It's really unclear to me whether it's an actual dish in the cultural sense or something more idiosyncratic: I've only ever seen it one other place in the city, and there's scant information on the internet about it. I often grab it on my way home from work, as there's a place serving it right by my apartment.
A Vietnamese article I found indicates that it's basically white rice that's fried with eggs and no oil, such that the grains become plump and firm without getting greasy. This also turns the rice yellow. I always order it with xá xíu (char siu pork), and on the side, I get some lightly pickled vegetables. (I love the cucumbers, but I'm not a big fan of the mustard greens). On top, I add a generous helping of chili sauce, and by God is it delicious.
Chả cá
 |
| Shortly after getting the burner up and running. |
I've only had chả cá twice: you generally need to get together a group to eat it, as it's served in a shared frying pan on your table. A local variety of river carp is fried in a secret blend of spices before being dropped into a pan with boiling oil, lemon juice, mắm tôm (shrimp paste), distilled wine, green onions, dill, and basil. Waiters periodically come by to stir everything in the pan while everyone at the table grabs chunks of fish and greens with chopsticks. On the side, you're given bún (rice vermicelli) to put in a small serving bowl alongside your fish. Finally, you can mix together your fish and noodles with a bit of nước mắm (fish sauce), and then you shovel all of this deliciousness into your mouth as you please. At 130,000đ per person (about US$5.50), it's more expensive than most other Vietnamese food, but it is so, so worth it.
Ốc
 |
| The plate on the upper left is dried fish with chili sauce. Upper right, the bowl of snails. Bottom center, the bowl of dipping sauce with the triangular snail utensil. |
This entry is something I've only tried once, but it sure was an interesting experience. After class one day, a few of the Vietnamese staff at one of the centers I work at was going out to have ốc (literally just the word for snails) for another teacher's birthday. Snails are quite popular in Vietnam, so I was excited to get a local introduction to them. There were six of us there huddled around a plastic table replete with dishes I'd never tried before. The centerpiece was a big bowl of snails—still in shells about the size of a quarter—for all of us to share.
Everyone took their own little triangular utensil and used the pointy end to scrape the meat (is that what you call it in this case?) out of the shell opening. You also got your own little bowl of dipping sauce made from ginger, chili, garlic, lemongrass, and fish sauce. With the snail still speared, you dipped it in the fragrant, sour sauce and popped the little nugget into your mouth. As much as I liked the flavor of the sauce, I was not a big fan of the chewiness—it was sort of like rubbery calamari. I've enjoyed buttery escargots à la bourguignonne before, and while I didn't necessarily dislike it, this was just not a texture I'm accustomed to. And though the eating process a bit labor intensive for how little food actually makes it into your mouth, I got a kick out of the novelty of it—especially the specialized utensil!
Trứng vịt lộn
 |
| See if you can find any duckling features—I personally could not. Here's a link to the Wikipedia page if you want a clear (and potentially gross-looking) picture. |
Now this entry, from the same night as the ốc, is one I decidedly did not eat. Usually known in English by its Tagalog-derived name of balut, trứng vịt lộn (which literally translates to metamorphosing duck egg) is a boiled duck embryo. Unlike a typical, unfertilized egg, these eggs are fertilized, and the embryo is matured to the point that it has bones and some recognizable features, but not a beak, claws, or feathers. The other teacher I was with and my coworkers apparently could see it, but through the thick tamarind sauce it was served in, I could not. I have very mixed feelings about both tamarind and eggs, so this was definitely not for me. There were still big chunks of boiled yolk, and overall I really did not like both the flavor and the texture. It was sure interesting to try, though.
(It was only while writing up this post that I found out how exotic balut is considered in the West—apparently it's been featured on Fear Factor, Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern, and multiple seasons of Survivor. This amuses me greatly given how little thought I gave to trying it.)
Bánh chuối
 |
| Waiting at the roadside (by which I mean on the road) bánh chuối cart back in cooler weather. |
I'll close on a sweet note with one of my favorite little snacks here: bánh chuối, or fried bananas. Ordinarily, I'm not a big fan of bananas, but I think the bananas here are a lot better than back home—they're a lot shorter, more flavorful, and sweeter. On my way home from work, I often pass a cart on the side of a busy road (on a bridge actually) where I pull over and get two for 20,000đ ($0.85). These carts are pretty typical here, usually selling sticky rice, bánh mỳ, or various skewered meats.
 |
| Back at home, just after taking a bite. |
When I pull up to the cart, I sit on my motorbike and watch the same guy—who knows me by now—peel open bananas and flatten them in some sort of press. Then they get dipped in batter and deep fried. The result is fruity, fried deliciousness. The banana turns into sweet and sour mush, and the batter is rich and lightly crispy. If it weren't for pulling over one night during my commute—my curiosity piqued by the Vietnamese words for breads/pastries and banana—I don't know how I would've known about it.
So concludes the second installation of "Food, Glorious Food!" Will there be a third? I think so. In my last post, I mentioned a grab bag photos of Hanoi. I'm still periodically adding photos to it, so here's the link again if you want to check them out.
Till next time,
Gray
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