Jeremy C. Malcampo (Text and Photos)
Though much of Vietnam’s urban features (particularly Ho Chi Mhin,) somehow resemble almost everything there is in Manila—streets, stores, vendors, houses, restaurants, offices, road sign designs, lampposts, even a branch of Jollibee in one of the malls—maybe it is the feeling of "not being home" which makes travel fascinating enough to be away from home, just a bit.
Fusion Since
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Office workers eating street pho bho at the sidewalk in front of Hoa Sen | |
I thought of that as I sampled different kinds of street food along Hoa Sen University Avenue in Ho Chi Mhin—street-engineering, building architectures, sidewalks, and vendors—despite difficulties in learning the language, not understanding almost everything written in Vietnamese, and the amazingly bizarre combination of tastes, textures, and flavors in distinctive preparations.
I had a street-dessert made of traditional French crepes—perfectly cooked and rounded paper-thin by an old man who was wearing a different shoe for the other foot—filled with freshly grated coconut, boiled tapioca in lemon-hinted syrup, dried matchstick-cuts of radish soaked in coconut-milk-reduction, and juliennes of crusted meringue. It was good—as the temperature of the freshly cooked crepe wrap worked well to enhance the texture of the lemon-hinted Tapioca, grated coconut, sweet meringue, and the radish soaked in cold coconut reduction sauce.
The Grilled crepes shells—from a batter-mixture of ground rice, binder, and glutinous rice as base—hinted with lemongrass, almond oil, and Pandan extract, was also good especially when the vendor filled it with some preserve of fruits in syrup, and freshly chopped apples, some pomelo, peanuts, and pieces of peeled longgans and topped with a simple scoop of Kaffir sorbet.
French-inspired
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Rice paste, sugar, egg, yogurt, and grilled crepe shells hinted with lemongrass, almond oil, and pandan extract. | |
Everything was amazing, even to the brick of baguette—from pile of vendors’ stock breads stacked in a corner of their cart, refreshed on the grill—served as a snack sandwich with fresh cilantro, confit of Calamansi peels, soft cheese, butter, and a slice of pate layered with cucumber, freshly chopped tomatoes, chopped leeks, fresh lettuce by choice, sautéed chives, and chopped nuts.
Having this sandwich for snack during mid-afternoon meal-times will keep one really nourished-up up to dinner time, and will always live up to colonial history’s culinary contribution on how French gastronomy has been (and will always be) part of Vietnamese cuisine. Though, the pate was done in the Asian way—with all the meat ingredients flavored and pureed perfectly smooth like to a Ma-ling brand meatloaf—the molding and perhaps, the steaming process (possibly even baked) was inside a glazed coconut shell, as both improvisation of France’s terrine cookery and preservation technique.
Intricacy of cookery, flavor, and ingredient preferences—even on the street level—give ample acclaim both to Oriental, and French culinary traditions, which in a matter of saying has been Vietnam’s distinct culinary characteristic compared to other gastronomies. Though, almost all cuisines in the world are technically fusions of different gastronomies, Vietnam stands to be one of the most diverse: French, Indo-Malay, Chinese, Indian, and American.
There was a Bánh Su vendor, whose recipe for puff pastries, coconut custard filled fried puff, demi-crusted and textured a’la churros like the favorite Spanish fried breads partnered with chocolate. But this Vietnamese dessert prides its choux-dough (puff pastry) with a good base of panade leavened with eggs, and the filling textured with a rondelle of boiled Pandan-flavored glutinous cake highlighted with caramelized mung-bean-paste, and served sprinkled with desiccated coconut, and confectioner sugar. It was good, and even better with the realization that this type of dessert—already categorized as a specialty food in most fine Asian-themed patisseries in Manila—wasn’t exclusively concocted only for those who can afford, as all desserts should be.
Though, almost all of Vietnam’s ingredients and food elements are common in the Philippines, the fearless composition of recipes—using traditionally available ingredients, different modes of cookery even for simple desserts which are more affordable than a bottle of soda, and the practicality behind every concoction, contribute to such communal cuisine—can only be gauged no lesser than humble-gourmet.
But, then again, "what good is cuisine if it’s not for all?"
Perhaps, that’s exactly the reason why Vietnam is Vietnam now, and perchance the same inspiration on how a cook changed the course of his country’s history, people’s perspective and even defeated the world’s most powerful nation… which technically started in a kitchen. (to be continued..)
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