Vietnamese Food PHOtography

Let's start with breakfast:



Crystal shrimp dumplings (upper right), fresh noodles with pork and a smattering of crispy shallots, and fresh vegetables. Vegetables and fresh herbs are a part of every meal.



Breakfast preparation, 6:30 AM on the streets of Saigon. The big silver pot (back left) is the steaming vessel for the fresh noodle, cooking on top. The batter is crepe-thin, and poured over a finely knit cloth to steam.

On to the floating markets of the Mekong Delta:



A Vietnamese delicacy: duck embryos. These birds are just hatching (can you see the eggs rocking back and forth?). Taken from the shell as they hatch, and cooked immediately. For strength and good health.



These fish were taking from the sea just moments ago. They're flipping and jumping in their respective buckets.

Not for the queasy:



Pig heads and entrails convey the freshness of the head-to toe product.



Keep in mind, this is sitting out, all day, on the banks of the river in tropical heat. Not the most sanitary conditions, but unquestionably fresh.

Catching fish off the coast in Mui Ne:



These small circular boats drive out to larger vessels in deeper waters and ferry the catch to the shore. The ocean is aggressive and the baskets spin as they make their way to shore.



The catch is divided.



And brought to market. The women carrying these baskets weigh less than they carry. They start working as teenagers, and continue into grandmotherhood.

A cooking class at the Sailing Club, in Mui Ne:



Chef Trinh van Trinh offered a private lesson in the court yard, where he shared the ins and outs of Pho Ga (traditional Vietnamese Chicken Noodle Soup), which I've detailed at the end of this post.

Hoi An market:



The limes are small, like key limes, and an entire head of garlic is the size of a golf ball. They produce is sweeter, finer, gentler, and does not as much cooking as American aromatics. In fact, they are often enjoyed raw, or flash-cooked.

Fresh cilantro, mint, and water spinach is eaten daily, after purchasing at local markets that can be found in the smallest of towns. Of course, if the town is small enough, people simply grow or harvest their own herbs.

Deliciuos Bahn mi (Vietnamese sandwich):



Pate, spicy red pepper sauce, fish sauce, roasted pork, and herbs, herbs, herbs are layered on a baguette.

Lunch in Hoi An:



The famous Hoi An noodles, darker in color, can only be made in Hoi An, where the water used to make the dough is taken from a local well. See what I mean about the herbs?

A vendor approaches while during lunch:



To sell a snack for later on. Honey and ginger roasted peanuts baked into a rice cake. That entire platter cost $0.60. If you like to plan dinner while you're eating lunch, this is the place for you.

A vendor selling rambutans on the streets of Hue:



Though for my entire trip we called these lychees, they're not. Lychees have a smooth skin, and rambutans have a rough, prickly skin.

The ubiquitous road side drink stop:



This was near the Japanese covered bridge, a simple cyclo drive from Hue. They line the streets near every tourist destination and the vendors start selling, in a charmingly assertive way, as soon as you arrive.

En route to Halong Bay, we stop for my favorite drink, Lime Water (limbu):



The tiny limes are nestled between long pieces of sugar cane and rolled through this press. Out comes this incredibly, just-sweet lime water, which is combined with crushed ice to make a most refreshing drink. Corn syrup-laden sprite, it's not.

Though the vendors would prefer you to relax, sit on a small plastic stool under a tree and enjoy the drink, they are not opposed to grab and go. They'll pour the drink into a small plastic bag, plunk a straw inside, and wrap it tightly with a rubber band, and charge less for the effort.

On Cat Ba Island, we receive a warm welcome:



And are offered mango, with a cumin sugar-salt for sprinking, and strong green tea



The green tea was way too strong, but ever wanting to please, we were gracious and drank it with clenched-teeth smiles. Until the locals admitted they were just waiting to see what we'd do:



And diluted our drinks so that we could all enjoy a laugh together. They only tease because they love.

A street market in Hanoi. Tucked away in this mess of touristy ($15 per night) hotels in the middle of the city. Could easily have walked right by:



Remember what I said about women running this place?



Head butcher and CEO. It's about 110F in the shade, but still, I'll take this product over any hormone-laden grocery store item back in the states.

A final snack in Hanoi, while checking out the price of hotels. A vendor peels a mango ($0.15):



And walks away, creating my enduring memory of Vietnam:



A seismic shift between ways old and new. Catch it while you can.


Sailing Club Pho
Serves 6

2 small shallots
2 cinnamon sticks
8 cups chicken stock
2 chicken bouillon cubes
6 cups water
1 pound rice noodles, pre-cooked
1 boneless, skinless, chicken breast half (wrapped in plastic wrap to keep moisture in and simmered until cooked through, 10 to 15 minutes), shredded
2 scallions, thinly sliced
1 small onion, very thinly sliced
Cilantro, mint, spinach, lime wedges for garnish
Salt and pepper, as desired

1. Place shallots and cinnamon in a medium pot with 2 cups water. Simmer until 1/2 cup liquid remains; remove and discardshallots and cinnamon. Add chicken stock and bouillon cubes to pot, bring to a simmer.

2. Bring remaining 4 cups water to a simmer. Heat noodles by dunking in the water until warmed through, about 30 seconds. Divide among bowls. Repeat with chicken.

3. Pour hot broth over noodles and chicken, garnish with scallions and onion. Server with a platter of herbs and lime wedges; pass seasonings at the table.

New Year, New Health: Spaghetti & Meatballs

It's September and I'm antsy. For the formulative years, this was when I found out what I'd be doing for the next nine months. There were syllabi, books, agendas...I was planning the semester, the year, the next four years, grad school, whatever. Looming on the horizon was an exam (SATs, finals), or applications (college, advanced classes). There were goals, there was focus, there was a straight line for success.

I feel a Pavlovian pull to sign up in September. Suddenly, I must become a member of the Food Coop. Take a class a the Open Center. I start buying text books and study, because that's what I've always done. I was a good student, homework always in on time, getting gold stars and straight A's. I want those stars again, dammit.

Conveniently, I've got what seems like an eternity to sit in temple and contemplate the year's syllabus. I know, I'm supposed to be comtemplating and repenting for last year's good and bad deeds, but I'm one hell of a multitasker. I can even find the time to think about choice words for those who wear garish animal prints to shul.

This year, I did a little pre-requisite reading of alternative health thought leaders like Ms. Sally Fallon, Mr. Paul Check, and Sir Paul Pitchford. Though they all recommend moderation, I've begun swearing off sugar, alcohol and white starches of all kinds.

And you know what? Seems like I need to reread that chapter on moderation. If you've ever gone through this kind of phase you know. Though I'm a naturally healthy eater, with this kind of obsessive approach, all I want is the bad stuff. I don't drink coffee usually, but tell me I can't and it's all I want. I've bought maybe 3 packs of cigarettes in my life, mostly for other people, and now I'm just dying for a fag. I even bought a melted, dusty Mounds bar the other day. I tell you, it wasn't good.

So I'm regrouping and I've started rethinking the classic basic comforts, starting with The Meatball. Now when you think meatball, you probably don't think health. But look at these ingredients for a second: farm fresh eggs, whole grain bread, organic meat, olive oil, fresh herbs, and that hard-to-find item: loving hands to make the meatballs. This might just be the healthiest food around. Skip the Clif Bars, and make a big batch of these. They freeze well, and will put a smile on everyone's face. What can be healthier than that?

Better Balls
Makes about 20

2 slices whole wheat bread
3/4 cup organic milk
1/2 pound ground organic veal
1/2 pound ground organic pork
1/2 pound ground organic beef
1 large organic egg
1/2 small organic onion, finely minced
1/3 cup chopped organic parsley
2 tablespoons chopped organic basil
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
Olive oil, for shallow frying
A jar of your favorite marinara, or Ciao Luigi Pomodoro Sauce, pureed
1 (8-ounce) box of whole wheat spaghetti
Grated parmesan cheese, for serving

1. Remove crusts from bread, place in a medium bowl and pour milk over. Let sit 10 minutes, and gently squeeze out excess milk. Put bread in a large bowl, discard milk.

2. Add veal, pork, beef, egg, onion, parsley, basil, oregano, salt, and pepper to bowl with bread. Gently toss to combine, keeping lightness in your hand and air in the balls (don't squish the meat too much, or you'll end up with tough balls).

3. Roll the balls in your hands to make any size you like; I like mine slightly larger than a golf ball. Refrigerate balls for about 15 - 20 minutes. (This is done to help them firm up and keep their shape during cooking.

4. In a large skillet over medium heat, heat enough olive oil to come 1/4-inch up the side. When oil is hot enough to make the meatballs gently sizzle as they hit the pan, add the balls, leaving at least 1/3-inch between (you may need to do this in batches). Let cook about two minutes, then gently shake the skillet to turn the balls. This will keep them round (they're not called meat cubes, are they?). Use a spatula or tongs to help them move -- don't pull them if they're sticking to the bottom; work gently.

5. After about 10 minutes, the meatballs should be browned on all the edges. Add the tomato sauce, bring to a simmer and turn heat very low. Cover and cook an additional 15 minutes, or until balls are cooked through.

6. Cook pasta according to package directions, and serve topped with meat balls, and sprinkled with Parmesan cheese, if desired.

Love Me Plus 3: Chinese White Cut Chicken

Lotus had been promising an introduction to her mom for about 10 years. There would be tours of Chinatown, wok shopping, Mandarin lessons and most definitely a meal. For our first encounter, a meal seemed more than ample. T'would be Chinese White Cut Chicken, a 3-ingredient doosie that Lotus had raved about.

So here we were, Lotus' brothers, Lotus, Mom (heretofore Lotusseed) and I, scarfing down some Chinatown congee, dumplings and noodles before dinner. Some people might prepare for dinner with an afternoon of shopping, perhaps a tennis game, or by catching a Sunday football game. Lotus' family prepares to eat by eating. Takeout was followed by a fruit salad, tea, more fruit and finally dinner. It's amazing Lotus' family aren't contestants on The Biggest Loser, but I promise you, they're svelte.

I hung out in the kitchen with mom and snapped pics. This dish has very few ingredients; it's 100% technique. I've had boiled chicken on any number of occasions; none of them particularly positive memories.

Lotusseed takes it a step further and ensures a perfectly moist bird with gentle cooking. She actually turns the heat off and lets the bird cook in hot water. I asked her 87 ways to Sunday if she was sure the heat should be off, and after 50 years of cooking on two continents she assured me that yes, the heat should off.

The bird is outrageously fresh and so moist I even enjoyed the white meat. The skin never completely crisps (it's boiled, afterall), but think of it as you would the ubiquitous braised pork belly, perfect in it's rich, indulgent, non-crispy fattiness. Give it a go. That soft fat is Lotusseed's favorite part as well as mine; enjoy it knowing you're in good company.

But the best part of the cooking lesson was the conversation. You see, Lotusseed is the daughter of an herbalist who has a shop in Manhattan's Chinatown. She was raised knowing that food is health, life, restorative sustenance, and preventative medicine. She can tell you the benefits of different herbs, vegetables, and broths. She showed me no less than four soups she had brought to nourish Lotus into a healthy fall and winter.

In all the classes I've taken and kitchens I've worked in, I've never heard someone speak about food in this way. It was not about presentation, or reduced fat, or how quickly you could get it on the table. It was about raising four healthy children using all your inherited knowledge to make the best tasting, most nourishing, most loving food you possibly could.




So before you look askance at that beak-to-claw bird, remember; it's a good thing. It's good luck, it's wholeness, it's completion. Look at that bird and marvel at how healthy it is, and how it's about to become a part of your own body. Look at how perfect the skin is; how clear the eyes are. It's not just about covering your Foreman with nonstick spray and throwing an anonymous chicken breast on it; consider the life and the animal you're about to consume, and take a moment to consider your good fortune in being on this side of the stove.

Bon Appetit!

White Cut Chicken
Serves 4 to 6 for dinner with a pot of steamed rice.

Thumb of ginger (about an inch)
1/2 pound pork belly (a single slice)
1 4 pound chicken, head and feet on
Coarse salt
Scallion Ginger sauce (optional, recipe follows)

1. Heat a large pot of water. No not that one, a bigger one. I'm talking lobster pot.

2. Peel the ginger, and slice thinly with a vegetable peeler. Add it to the pot and fill the pot with water. Bring to a simmer, add the pork and return to a boil.

3. Prepare the chicken: take the feet out of the belly (it comes that way from the shohet, kidding of course, go to Chinatown), and remove the innards. Rinse the bird with water and use the salt to scrub that baby down. Look at how healthy (and dead, yes dead, but this was once alive) this animal is; admire the evenness of the skin, the eyes, and the abundant health that will now go on to nourish you. Rinse and scrub well, inside and out, and season again.

4. Now that the water has returned to a boil, grab the chicken by it's neck, and gently dunk it in the boiling water, 8 or 10 times, to warm up the chicken inside and out. Submerge the chicken and wait until water returns to boil. Cover the pot and turn off the heat.

5. Let the bird cook gently in the hot water for one hour and fifteen minutes, or until completely cooked through. Remove the chicken and the pork from the water, season again, and let rest on a platter for 15 minutes. Slice and serve with Scallion Ginger sauce, if desired.


Scallion Ginger Sauce
Makes about 1 cup

2/3 cup peanut oil
1/3 cup chopped scallions
1/3 cup chopped peeled ginger

Heat peanut oil until hot enough for frying, about 350F. Place scallions in ginger in a medium bowl. Pour hot oil over scallions and ginger; let cool. Season with salt and hot pepper if desired. Serve as a dipping sauce with poultry. Will keep up to 5 days if refrigerated.

Got Dumped? Lotus' "Lings"

I have a friend who is living, breathing onomatopoeia. She's a very tall, etherial Chinese-American woman with striking long black hair and an angelic way. She'll breeze down the street gently, gliding, deceptively other-worldly, yet she's always the last one to break the embrace whenever she hugs "hello".

As a writer, I know I'm supposed to show-me don't tell-me, and now I've just botched it all to hell. Here's an example of my very dear friend Lotus:

Many moons ago, when I was in the early stages of grieving a newly ex-boyfriend, Lotus and I had a Chinatown date. She was going to show me around, introduce me to the dumpling places that white people just don't know about. We went through our day, stuffing our faces and slurping down bubble drinks, and I finally confessed that my boyfriend of 5 years had moved out just a few weeks ago.

She looked at me steadily, grabbed my hand and held it. Her face had such empathy and warmth, that I couldn't cry (in this particular phase, I was spending most of the waking hours wet-faced, so this was odd). I felt grateful to have Lotus as a friend, and knew all would be okay. She didn't chastize me for not sharing the news sooner; she was simply present, and continued to call and check in as I pushed through.

A few years later, and I was coming to closure on another relationship, also unbeknownst to Lotus. The phone rings, and it's Lotus, asking me to come along and help her find a good local pork store; she was in a dumpling making mood.

Oh, the irony is not lost on me that whenever I get dumped, Lotus has an urge for an aptly named snack. For those of you who go straight for the frozen pints, trust me, dumplings work. Piece together a little of this, a little of that, season it like mad, wrap it up like a present, sear it in hot oil, dump water on it and steam it, then voila; the perfect metaphor for what you're experiencing! A bite-sized version of someone throwing you out the door. Have one! No, have five! Stuff yourself mad and then you too can be a lovely little dumpling!

So the Jew (moi) and the Chinese girl (Lotus) walk deep into Brooklyn looking for an Italian pork store. Joke stops there. We hit Staubitz, Lotus asks the men to grind up some fresh pork, and home she goes to make her offering to the relationship gods.

She came over later with fresh, delicious packages of fatty goodness, complete with a dipping sauce. It went a long way to curing what ailed me.

But the story doesn't stop there; now she's experiencing her own romantic challenge, complete with a move out, and I've been invited over for a Chinese feast tomorrow afternoon -- mom's coming in from out of town to cook a bird. Perhaps she's inherited her culinary wisdom; tune in next week for culinary details.

But for now, I'm worried about one thing and one thing only: whatever should I bring?



New Year’s Dumplings
Lotus created these recipes based on experimenting with two of Grace Young's cookbooks, The Breath of a Wok and Wisdom of the Chinese Kitchen, then adding her own je ne sais quoi to it, as noted.

Dumpling Wrappers
2 cups all-purpose flour, plus additional for kneading
or skip the meditative joy :-) and buy round gyoza wrappers
* Use a doll-sized rolling pin, about 7in.

Filling
8 ounces ground pork
10 large leaves Napa cabbage (finely diced, soaked in 1 teaspoon each of salt and sugar, drained)

(Allison – these are ingredients that were originally part of the recipe, but I adjusted the amounts)
2 tbsp minced ginger
2 tbsp oyster sauce
1 tbsp soy sauce
2 tbsp rice cooking wine

(Allison- these are ingredients that I added to the recipe.)
1 tbsp sesame oil
2 tbsp coriander, with stems
1 tbsp minced scallions
1 tbsp diced water chestnuts

Ginger-Scallion Dipping Sauce
(Allison – this was a result of combining/adjusting a couple of recipes)
1/3 cup Chinkiang or balsamic vinegar
1/4 cup soy sauce
3 tbsp minced scallion
3 tbsp minced ginger
2 tbsp sugar


Put the 2 cups of flour in a bowl and make a well. Pour ¾ cup cold water into the well and stir until the mixture begins to pull from the sides of the bowl. Knead for 5 minutes. Cover and allow to rest 30 minutes.

Combine all dumpling filling ingredients together.

After the dough has rested, continue kneading 5 more minutes on a lightly floured surface. The dough should be elastic, smooth and not sticky. Roll the dough into an even rope about 15 inches long. Cut the rope into 1/2-inch pieces to form about 30 pieces. Roll each piece into a ball. Flatten each ball with a rolling pin that has been lightly dusted with flour into 3-inch rounds, rolling from the center to the edges, making the center slightly thicker and the edges thinner. Cover all unused dough with a slightly damp cloth.

Place about 2 teaspoons of pork in the center of each round of dough. Fold in half to form a half-moon, and pinch one end of the half-moon together. Using your thumb and index finger, make 4 or 5 small pleats in the front piece of dough, then pinch together the other end of the dough to seal the dumpling. Dust each dumpling lightly with flour. Stand each dumpling so the rounded edge is upright.

Heat a 14-inch flat-bottomed wok or skillet over medium-high heat until hot but not smoking. Add 1 tablespoon oil, and carefully add 8 dumplings, rounded-side up, about 1/2 inch apart. Pan-fry 1 to 2 minutes, or until golden brown, gently using a metal spatula to make sure the dumplings are not sticking to the wok. Add 1/3 cup cold water, immediately cover the wok, and cook 3 minutes. Uncover the wok, and fry 2 more minutes on medium heat, or until almost all the water has evaporated. The dumplings should be served immediately. Place the vinegar and the ginger in little condiment dishes and serve with the dumplings. Using 1 tablespoon oil for each batch, continue frying the remaining dumplings, 8 at a time.

Makes about 30 pot stickers. Serves 6 to 8 as part of a multicourse lunch.

Savory Streets: Vietnamese Spring Rolls

One of the more memorable aspects of Vietnam is the street life. It's hot there (especially in the summer), and it's not exactly an air-conditioning type of place. People are sensible; they don't fight the elements, they go with it. They sit outside their homes to take their meals, get their hair cuts, and in Hanoi I saw entire family scrubbing and bathing on the streets; I kid you not.

I've recently moved to an part of Park Slope on the corner of Bourgeois and Bodega. The down-the block stores in which I shop conduct the majority of their business in Spanish, while the new ones springing up are low-rent opportunities for designers to hock their inspired dresses, and earnest parents to shop for brain-friendly kids toys.

One part of my neighb that I'm slowly getting accustomed to is the Brooklyn street life. This consists of groups of middle aged men that congregate all day, hanging out. Not really drinking, or doing anything that resembles work. Just dudes hanging out on the street.

On the one hand, I like the these guys; they know my business. If I disappear one day, and a detective roams around with a photo of my punim, asking for details, these guys are enough in my world that they share some details of my life with Detective Toolate.

On the other hand, these people are a little too in my business. They notice when I've put on an especially nice dress, ask where I'm going on a date, etc. etc. etc. Street life on Vietnam was fine; I was a traveler. But 5th Avenue street life holds me accountable; I've got no departure date.

Right now I'm developing a gazillion recipes for a cookbook. It's a fast-push project; 50 recipes in 3 weeks. And each recipe is enough to serve a family of four. I have a family of 1 (and a half, if you count my dog).

When developing and testing recipes for other companies in the past, much of the food is tossed at the end of the day. When food styling, I've worked on photoshoots where we cook an incredible Thanksgiving feast, then order out for overpriced sandwiches. Doesn't seem right.

But I'm making the rules now, as this is my kitchen. So I've decided to make nice with the locals. I've begun carrying quarts of good-fat soups around to local street men and small shop ownders. I think I made a big hit with the guys from Arecibo, my local car service, when I dropped off a huge bowl of Steamed Mussels and then my Shrimp Boil (or 'Berl', for you southerners). The guy who packs all my parcels for free at the mail place is taking home dinner tonight, as are the folks at the Muslim Apothecary. The hardware store guys really got a kick out of a whole wheat pasta dish, and the vintage store guy has no idea what kind of shellfish deliciousness is coming his way tomorrow.



In Vietnam, I was told not to bother with the restaurants, as the real cooking is on the street. If you roll up to the corner of Bourgeois and Bodega in Park Slope with incredibly good timing, you might just find that the good food is served here too.


Vietnamese Spring Rolls
Serves 6 to 8

2 ounces rice vermicelli, rehydrated according to package directions
12 large shrimp, cooked and halved lengthwise
1 large ripe mango, cut into long, thin matchsticks
2/3 cup fresh bean sprouts
1/2 cup mint leaves
1/2 cup sliced basil leaves
1/2 cup cilantro leaves
12 leaves Boston or red leaf lettuce
12 rice paper wrappers
Peanut Dipping Sauce (keep scrolling)
Nuoc Cham (keep scrolling)

1. Prepare vermicelli, shrimp, mango, bean sprouts, herbs and lettuce leaves, and keep in individual piles or bowls. The easiest way to make spring rolls is with assembly-line style precision, so plan for it. Prepare a skillet of warm water (for softening the wrappers), and dry towel to place in front of each person who will be making rolls. Prepare a platter with a slightly damp paper towel for completed rolls.
2. Lay the wrapper in the water, and remove when softened, about 10 to 20 seconds depending on the heat of the water. Lay one piece of lettuce in the bottom third of the wrapper, and top with noodles, mango, sprouts, herbs and shrimp. Roll, tucking the sides in, burrito style. Place on the plate and cover with the slightly damp towel; fill remaining wrappers.
3. Slice rolls on the bias (in as many pieces as you’d like; a tighter roll allows for smaller, tight pieces), and serve with dipping sauces.



Peanut Sauce
Makes 2/3 cup

1 teaspoon crushed garlic
2 tablespoons crunchy peanut butter
2 tablespoons lower-sodium soy sauce
1 teaspoon honey
1 pinch of chili powder
1/4 coconut milk
Juice of 1 lime, as needed

Place all ingredients in a saucepan, and cook over a moderate heat for 10 minutes(add lime juice if necessary). If you're using one of those hippy no-saturated fat, organic peanut butters (like me), you might need to up the honey. Basically, adjust the sweet, hot, salty and fatty ingredients until it tastes unbelieveable delicious to you.


Nuoc Chom
Makes 2/3 cup

1 garlic clove, crushed
1/2 teaspoon hot chili sauce, or 1 hot red chili pepper
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice or lemon juice
1/4 cup rice vinegar
1/4 cup fish sauce

1. Combine garlic, chile sauce and sugar and a mortar and pound with a pestle; or process in a food processor until chunky. Add lime juice, vinegar, fish sauce and 1/4 cup water. Stir to combine.