noodlepie

Seasons in Saigon

Fruit's great innit? It looks cool. It tastes fab, gives your intestine a decent bit of fruitcerise and helps flush out any stubborn internal cobwebs. What's also super-top-nice about fruit in Vietnam is that the stuff's seasonal. What with the availability of all kindsa fruit year round in the west, I wouldn't be too surprised if there's some study somewhere showing that British and American kids don't actually know that fruit is seasonal. Whereas I'm fairly sure your average Vietnamese kid knows exactly when to find longans and litchis for sale.

I am British and as seasonally clueless as most of my compatriots. However, in Vietnam there's a nifty way of finding out what's a la mode at any given time. Take a walk down the street and see what's on offer. If it's on sale, it means it's 'in' and it didn't come from some Israeli kibbutz, a Californian growth hormone farm or the Windward Islands. These here grapes be in season right now and'll set you back 12,000VD/kg.

This guy's got a basket full of hairy, red chom chom (rambutan). You only find them during the rainy season - May to October(ish). They just recently started to appear on the streets. Binh Hoa, near Saigon, is where many of these fellas are grown. Crack open the hairy outer and there's a sweet, white blob inside. 10,000VD/kg

Sau rieng (Durian) is the legendary stinker. Can't quite see what all the fuss is about to be honest. It smells, but it's really not that bad. I'm not a big fan of this gunky, creamy fruit. It's the texture that freaks me out. However, noodlegirl is keen and so we normally buy at least one per week. It'll cost you around 12,000VD for one from a street cart like this. The skin is a jagged bitch and I've cut myself more than once on one of these things.

It's best to ask the seller to open your durian for you. They then stick the fruit meat in a polystyrene box.

The durian seller on my local market can be seen above hacking up a durian for us. She's not taking any chances and wears something of a falconry glove to protect her paws.

On Ben Thanh market (see pic above) the durian are larger, but cost about three times the price of the street deal. Noodlegirl says the taste from the Ben Thanh babes is in another league.

The durian seller on my local market also sells the centrefold of the fruitarian galaxy, the dragonfruit. But, I guess much like many centrefold models, there's not a lot going on inside. Under the gorgeous skin is an equally stunning night sky in negative effect - white flesh, dotted with wee black seeds - but it tastes of nothing, watery and unintersting.

Pimp my rice

Here's another in our occasional series of combo basket streetfood delivery devices. I find this lady trawling hers around the local market. She sells xoi (sticky rice - sometimes savoury, sometimes sweet) Please note the hygiene inspector friendly plastic tarpaulin food shields. These things are all the rage down south. Is there more dust down here? Are we just cleaner? Maybe this seller comes from Hanoi as she's not having any of them transparent kinky gloves.

We've covered xoi before and I'm not the world's biggest fan of this basic sticky rice snack stuff. Above and below are pictured the condiments section and the rice basket respectively.

Moving on to the scoffables. Below we have the sweet rice xoi. Note the copious amount of sugar ladled onto this rice filled polystyrene box. Somehow this reminds me of drinking coffee by the river in Vientiane. I watched as the coffee seller filled half a beer glass with sugar before ladling in the coffee. It was the thickest, blackest, stodgiest, and obviously the sweetest, coffee I will ever taste. I digress.

The xoi below is the savoury number. The sliced red meat is a sweet sausage (yuck). The stringy stuff is dried shredded pork. There's beansprouts, some pate and corn along for the ride too.

At 2,000VD a tray I won't grumble. The savoury xoi is pretty good - a salty, snacky near hit. I finished this in its entirety minus the red meat. I didn't attempt the sweet version.

Prehistoric roots

I'm fast becoming more than a little impressed with the humble lotus flower. The purple stalk (bong sung) furnishes the vast Bun mam hedgerow and is filled with a crunchtastic zap. It's seeds (sen) litter the ricemungus Com sen from Ngu Vien restaurant and can be procured as a snack snip outside Ben Thanh Market. The flowers are groovy. And it grows in mud. Now, I discover you can gobble the roots of this 'leave nothing to waste' plant.

Trai au (lotus roots) look prehistoric or Stag beetle-esque, doncha think? You crack open the tough outer skin with your teeth and inside you'll find a white pulpy centre. It's slightly sweet, a tad earthy and not unlike a traditional English Horse chestnut.

It seems there's very little you cannot eat, use or look at contemplatively from a lotus flower. Trai au cost bugger all - a 2,000VD bag is more than enough for one root snack head. What a fantastic hardy perennial. Respect. This seller also flogs dried fish, strawberries and when they're in season i.e. now - she also sells Vietnamese blackberries. Not sure what they're called, don't have a pic of them, but they're a bit sour and I'm wondering whether or not they'd work for a blackberry pie or crumble. Hmmm??

Hu hit

This morning I was supposed to meet ex-CNN reporter, North Korea expert and Global Voices Online blogmeister Rebecca MacKinnon. She's here, I think, to learn how the media in Vietnam is or is not developing. And to talk about blogging. She had to split town early and instead of eating with me, she had the delights of a Vietnam Airlines sandwich to contend with on her way back up to Hanoi. When figuring out where to take Rebecca, I wasn't sure just how 'street' she would be prepared to go. So, erring on the safe side I chose to go 'very very' street. Let's see what she missed.

I've almost ingested and blogged from every stall down at the local market now. However, there are two soups I've yet to 'go live' on and they both reside up this back passage which runs off one side of the main market. As is usual on local markets, there are no signs telling you what's being sold or how much it'll set you back.

I only know this is a Hu tieu stall because... well... I'm very wise. Also I had this same dish two days ago as a 'home delivery'. The last time I blogged Hu tieu it was a bit of a District 10 disaster. That joint has since closed. However, I was so impressed with my 7,000VD home delivery and surprised that I'd never stopped by before that I decide to visit the stall in person this morning.

Hu tieu is a sweet noodle soup made from pork stock with a few small prawns, liver, kidney, pork slivers, he (a chive-alike) and beansprouts. It comes with the white noodles you can see above, but there is a Mi (yellow noodle) variant called Hu tieu mi nam vang. Side note, if you want really decent Mi, head to Mi Chu Tac on Ky Dong street.

I'm going white noodle this morning. The chef revives them in the side stock pot before shunting them bowlwards. However, being Rebecca-less and with the toad in tow, I decide to grab a mang di ve (takeaway) and bank this baby for lunchtime. So, in what is quite possibly definitely a first for this blog. What you are seeing has yet to enter my digestive tract. However, like I said, I had a very successful meeting with this beast two days previously and I feel confident I'm in for a carbon copy performance.

It's blisteringly good broth, not in the sense that it'll actually give you blisters of the puss spewing swollen variety, I don't think it will, well I didn't get any, but that's not to say you couldn't get them... I digress. If Rebecca had come I'm fairly certain she would have said something like, "This soup rocks. My buds'd love this shit." which in village English roughly translates as, "Oh that IS nice. I must tell everyone at the knitting circle to pop along for a post-knit nibble next week."

I don't know much, but what I do know is I've got a blindin' soup for lunch while Rebecca could well still be recovering from airline sarnie hell. Or did she go Business class?? Hmmm? Bloggers in Business class, that could never happen. Could it?

Bread bin

While I’m a big fan of Saigon’s sarnie scene, as a stand alone food item devoid of jungle filling, your regular Vietnamese street loaf - banh my - is largely lacking in… errr… loaf. Airy it is, at 1,000VD it's cheap too and it's well light, but tasty? Well not really. It’s not one of the world’s great breads, but its lightness probably lends itself better to a hot climate than some heavy rye bread brick. I buy it once a week or so from this seller who trades from the entrance of the local market next to a flower flogger and a che merchant. The executive style loaf on the left is covered in sesame seeds. Occasionally, if I’m feeling flush, I splash out on this more expensive 2,000VD chap. After 9am, this seller’s normally all out of sesame bread. Heated at home with salted butter, and a wee bit cheese, it works well enough for snack-mode moments. For the record, the best bread I’ve found in Vietnam comes from Hoa Sua restaurant shop in Hanoi. A charming rustic round loaf with a crusttastic crusty crust.

Market crisis

There's been something amiss down the market these past few weeks. The elderly Bun mam seller took sick two weeks ago. I don't think I'm the only Bun mam head shivering off withhdrawal pangs. The whole neighbourhood is suffering. You can see it in the downcast faces, the shuffling plastic flip-flops and the normally pristine shopping pyjamas that look a bit more crumpled than usual. Her slot's been temporarily nicked by a rice cake seller. It's a depressing sight. Distraught, I slope off on the trail of new blood to fill the void that is life without Bun mam.

The Bun thit nuong seller is flogging Banh xeo today This savoury pancake dish is an irregular fixture here. But, if she's got it on the go and you hang around long enough she'll rustle up a fresh one for you. We've covered this prawn, pork and beansprout number before at the 'famous' Dinh Cong Trang steet venue. We've also hogged one down in Chinatown. So, I'll spare you the usual bollocks, you can go check the past posts out. Unfortunately, this specimen isn't quite up to snuff, but it's fresh, light, filling enough for breakfast and costs 6,000VD. Vietworldkitchen.com has further details and wanderingspoon.com has a nifty MP3 file about cooking Banh xeo which site owner Thy tells was recorded in San Francisco. I wish the old soup demon a full and speedy recovery.

Floored

Who needs waiters?

Basket case

I've tried to like it, but I'm still having issues with Hue food. It's the rice flour pancake naffness of it all that I don't really get. Without the fish sauce dip, it's just rice flour pancakes and ground bean, maybe a prawn or sommit. But, well, it's all dullsville really. I'm a big fan of Saigon's premier Hue resto, however I rarely dig into the Hue section of their menu. Having said that when I spotted this seller hawking her creations down the market, I thought I'd try the street rendition and see how it compares.

It looks like she's one of the more popular dual basket contraption sellers as there's hardly anything left and what there is is a bit tired looking and pretty warm. This seller tells me she's from Hue and so if anyone knows what she's doing, I guess it's her. I order a threesome trial pack for 5,000VD.

Interestingly, as can be seen from the explanatory diagram above, she serves with a pair of transparent, disposable plastic gloves. This is a growing trend I've noticed. Not sure if there's a law or if the street sellers are just going for that chic, hygienic, slightly kinky look, but I'd be interested to know if this is happening in Hanoi too.

Not sure what they're all called. But one of these is Banh beo (rice flour 'n' green beans) They're all steamed and take about five minutes to prepare according to this seller. They come with a nuoc mam (fish sauce) dip and as I said, without that, Hue food is verging on piss poor in my book. Even with it, we're still talking biggo blando. Maybe I should try her a bit earlier in the day next time. Get 'em fresh out the steamer. For now I just don't see the attraction.

Tet hangover

I seem to remember Marks & Sparks (purveyors of quality cotton undies, potted plants and executive sandwiches) would start flogging off left over Christmas puddings before the nation had had time to hit James Bond, crack open the Cognac and gobble down half a hundredweight of Brazil nuts. No-one in the retail trade wants a warehouse full of Christmas puddings on their plate first thing in the new year. Not so Vietnam. Yer average Joe Nguyen wouldn't thank you for brandy snaps and cream on a traditional Brit pud - their loss, our heart attack. But they probably wouldn't snort at a stray, seasonal Banh Tet if they cornered one that had somehow survived Vietnamese new year plump, live and fast running out of escape routes. This morning I found two sellers shipping the left over leaden rice bricks. And folk were buying, myself included. At 13,000VD a slab, they're a steal.

Thit: Take Two

I hope this ongoing tour of my local market is helping illustrate just how much nosh there is in this city. This market isn't special, it isn't big. It's just like a squillion others in town, but I'm still not done exploring it. The thing is barely 100 metres long and I'm as tall as it is wide. So, you know, it's small, it's good and there are more, a lot more just like it all over Saigon. Go explore.

This stallholder sells Bun thit nuong (Grilled pork with vermicelli noodles) for 7,000VD and her stall is about midway down the alley. This is my first time stoolside at her perch. I'm a regular at the other thit nuong seller and I must admit I felt a bit of a slag sloping off to her rival four stalls and weasel's burp up my back passage, but there are noticeable differences between the two. This seller doesn't do the kebab numbers and she doesn't do those freakin' top rice roll rockers.

She's a straight up 'n' down thit woman. Vermicelli noodles, chopped up cha gio (spring rolls), veggies and scissored, marinated, grilled pork in a bowl, mish-mash-mosh, slurp of nuoc mam (fish sauce) and whallop, you're done.

I think old reliable four hops and a beetle's scrurry to her right is better. This was a bit bland and I do like my rolls, big time and OK, I'll admit I did stop by her rival for a nibble and a gulp on the way back to Pieman Towers. Whaddya think? Those cha gio above look a bit munchtastic ehhh?