Stickyrice

Laos General Store

General stores, like this one on the road between Luang Prabang and Vang Vieng in Laos, sell all of the vital ingredients of this country's cuisine in little plastic bags. It's kind of like a primitive version of the McCormick section at a western supermarket. Apart from herbs and spices commonly used in some other cuisines, such as chili, ginger, galangal, mint, lemongrass and tamarind, these simple roadside shacks offer up more exotic fixings endemic to Laos and Northern Thailand. Yanang leaf is used in the preparation of soups, cha-om (a kind of wattle/acacia) is thrown into soups, omelettes and curries, and padek is a unique freshwater fish sauce.

I recommend Manivan Larprom's blog if you're interested in learning how to do some Laos cooking at home. Most of her posts include instructional videos. She was responsible for solving the mystery of the backwater eggplant cremations not long ago.

Laos Market Shots: Meat Street

Recently in Laos, I was struck by the amount of meat on the street. Grilled meat. Skewered meat. Rissoles. Balls like bun cha patties. Unidentifiable meaty bits. Sausages. Big slabs of pressed meat. I saw the lower leg and hoof of an animal, fur still pettable. Like the tails hanging from a pho serving station in Hanoi a while ago, this lone hoof was somewhat disquieting. Other sights included bird carcasses so off they were verging on green. Yet still they were handled, examined and bargained over with intensity.

Though I suppose it's not much different to a European delicatessen, vegetarianism does enter my mind at such times.

The Top Ten

The last post on pho marked a milestone. It was the tenth in the Hanoi pho swoop, which sounds 'piddly-like-whoopie-big-deal-so-I've-eaten-ten-bowls-of-soup', but I can tell you for every bowl I've blogged, another ten have gone south of my mouth. The problem with pho mapping Hanoi for me is that I keep returning to my favourites rather than following a systematic approach to a process that I've realised will never end.

I do like pho, though, much more than a bowl of soggy cereal or a slice of toast with vegemite for breakfast. I like a wet breakfast and I will persist with the noodle slurping in perpetuity, it seems.

But let me summarise the very subjective findings so far.

THE STICKYRICE 'HANOI PHO SWOOP' TOP TEN SLURPS:
(as at 22/11/06)

1. Best Pho Ga By Far So Far (posted 26/7/06)
   "Get me a whole bird in my soup!"

2. Would You Queue for Pho? (2/8/06)
    "...a joint that Hanoians spruik up as one of the places to slurp one's noodles."

3. Pho Corner (12/9/06)
    "...cleavered chicken pieces, diced up hearts and livers, sliced fillets of breast covered  in lime leaf needles, a huge pile of fresh pho, a pot, a sieve, a ladle and some bowls."    

4. Pho Franchise (9/11/06)
    "classy, almost minimalist, a far cry from the cluttered detritus of the average family pho show in Hanoi."

5. Up-Market Pho (7/10/06)
    "...no slap-dash affair. Someone cares."

6. Pho Ga Blur (8/8/06)
    "...this rambling kerbside affair is an evening only slurp in a dark section of the Old Quarter."

7. Pho Poser (10/7/06)
    "...there's half a cow on board this bowl..."

8. Friendly Grotbox (17/11/06)
    "...bargain basement territory..."

9. More Pho Tails (20/8/06)
    "...a definitive little pinch me moment of "bloody hell, I live in Vietnam!"

10. Pho Map Installment No 2 (18/8/06)
      "...chewy, fatty and if I think too hard I might be forced to spit it into a serviette."

What about those of you who live in or have vistied Hanoi? What do you reckon? Am I out of my tree or not? I'd be much more motivated to branch out a bit if some recommendations were forthcoming.

*On a completely unrelated note, Hannibal Lector seemingly landed on this blog after conducting a search for the following: "restaurants that used human bones to make food delicious." He must be doing a thesis.
            

Nut Run

In Hanoi, shopping is different, whether it be for food or not. There is the bargaining, for starters. After five years, the novelty value of that has diminished somewhat - to zero. What remains intriguing, though, is the phenomena of products being synonymous with certain locations or streets in the city. If it's toys, go to Luong Van Can Street. If it's lau (hot pot), go to Phung Hung Street. Bamboo ladders, Hang Vai Street. A balloon and a condom, interestingly, can be purchased in the same location, near the intersection of Dong Xuan and Hang Chieu .

Along Ba Trieu street, apart from the number two installment in Hanoi's KFC story and the city's closest semblance to a shopping mall, the glitzy Vincom Towers, there are a number of nuthouses. If peanuts are the product, Ba Trieu is the street. Bought raw, the nuts are roasted in a large wok, using a technique requiring sand-like powder and a sieve.

The nuts come in their shells, the monotonous task of denuding them taking place first. A crude cracking device does the trick. In their skins, they are flung into the hot wok with the powder (known as hung luu - consisting of five ingredients including cinnamon, star-anise and basil seeds ) and, after a while, kept on the swirl with a gloved hand and a spatula. Later, through the sieve the powder goes, leaving the nuts for cooling and packaging.

Apparently a Chinese technique, the roasting of the nuts produces a sweet finished product. I'm not actually sure if sugar is one of the ingredients in the mix. It's a unique sweetness, some complaining the nuts end up soapy.

Still warm, I had no trouble knocking off a bag of them.

Friendly Grotbox

The Spot: In narrow Tran Quoc Toan Street, near the corner of Quang Trung, a one-wayer leading into Hanoi's old quarter, there are a series of snack eateries which sell all kinds of oily junk food in the afternoons and evenings. One of them does pho in the mornings, pho binh dan (noodles at a reasonable price) to be precise, according to the chirpy proprietor. Across the street, the deafening acoustics of a concrete primary school playground at recess provided 'ambience' to eat by.

Space and Atmosphere: Upon my arrival, this friendly grotbox was being graced by the presence of seven twenty-something women attired in stunning pink ao dai, the Vietnamese national dress, an odd juxtaposition to say the least. Discarded napkins and lime wedges on the floor, with the ethereal tails of the ao dai trailing through them. The walls are papered with soft drink ads, David Beckham's dial no doubt boosting Pepsi sales. Enough seating for a football team with substitutes on the pavement.

Shopfront Style: Not enticing but typical of the small pho operation, with the makeshift timber serving station and the stock pots all part of the front of house action. At the tail end of morning service, the debris is building up for the one clean up of the day!

Sticks, Condiments and Crockery: This joint observes all of the ostensible pho by-laws: bamboo sticks, Chinese floral bowls and condiment vessels in need of a good wipe with a clean cloth!

Serving Station: Surfaced with stainless steel, smeared and littered with rush hour refuse. The public face is tattered with yet more soft drink plug: Splash, a sickly orange drop, and Joy, happy distilled water.

Meat Generosity: The lovely ultra thin slices of chin somehow reminded me of the cured meats of Europe, like pastrami and pancetta. The texture and grain of the meat was tighter or something. Plenty of it, too.

Order to Delivery Gap: One local man who walked in after me was fed first. Normally that would shit me. But he was a policeman. I understand the pecking order in Hanoi.

Stock Factor: Perfect colour and clarity, not a fleck of scum evident. A touch on the salty side.

Cost: I'm in bargain basement territory here, with 11,000VND (USD70c, AUD90c) including an egg yolk, which is a common addition to Hanoi pho.

Rank: Eight of ten. Numero uno for grot, though.

No Frills Thai

Apart from my recent foray into neighbouring Laos, I'm pretty 'Vina-centric' here at SR headquarters in Hanoi. I don't much delve into other cuisines, except in the kitchen, and I tend not to document what goes on there. So many others do that so well it hardly seems necessary for me to pornofy proceedings in my blogspace, too. Besides, I don't have the requisite range of tableware and crockery for real food pornofication. The long and the short of it is, I can cook but the presentation would be dead flaccid and dull.

So, with APEC upon us and Vietnam now a member of the WTO, the least I could do was get my multi-cultural self down to a foreign eatery to celebrate and globalise.

This little gem is known as the Thai Food Shop. An occasional haunt of mine, it churns out Thai standards at almost street food prices on little blue plastic tables and chairs. I feel right at home! The unique and pleasant part of sitting kerbside here is that it is in a pocket of Hanoi strangely lacking excessive noise. Traffic is light and there is no construction work within earshot, practically unheard of in a city where the local people's tolerance of noise is mind-boggling. It actually stupefies me but don't get me started.

Now, where were we?

At the quiet street-side Thai, enjoying the sharp clean flavours of this chicken salad, a red beef curry, more chicken in the form of laap and sticky rice to fill the gaps. I can't comment on the authenticity of the flavours or the ingredients, but I went away curiously calm and ready to take on whatever banging clamor Hanoi could bark at me.

Quiet Reckoning

Chicken salad, chicken laap, beef curry, a coke and a soda water - 150,000VND (USD$9.30, AUD$12.20)

Thai Food Shop
84 Ly Thuong Kiet St
Hanoi

For authentic commentary on real Thai cuisine, check this bloke out.

Black Magic

While poking around in Ban Xang Hai, a village on the Mekong between Luang Prabang and the Pak Ou caves, I sprang upon a covey of local women cremating some eggplants. Magnificent, round purple and green orbs were being well and truly burnt at the stake, rendered devoid completely of colour, moisture and nutritional value.

Or so it seemed to me.

Ban Xang Hai is renowned these days for potent rice whisky, lao-lao or lao-hai, which my unsophisticated palate rejected with vigour. The bottles are actually the perfect size for mini molotov cocktails and, while I don't want to put ideas into people's heads, I aint drinking any more of that petrol even if it's served in a thimble.

Now these women had either been on this juice all night or they were Shakespeare's "secret, black and midnight hags" cooking up some black magic!

The blackened remains of the eggplants were pounded into a paste. The mortar and pestle suggested a food process was in progress. The comic body language that eventuated between me and them did little to shed light on this situation.

Can you?

Third Time Lucky

Seeking out new eateries in Hanoi should be straightforward. It's possible to pull up almost anywhere in this city, reach out and snatch a handful of snack, whether it be a piece of fruit, a steamed bun, a sugary donut thingie on a stick, a bread roll stuffed with pork, herbs and chili or a duck's fetus for that matter. The problem is that, after almost five years of such excessive choice, one gets picky.

What happens is the snack one most feels like is suddenly elusive. It might be off the menu, out of season or bad luck to eat when the moon is waxing. Maybe the vendor, who's been on the hustings every day of my 1500 day stay in Hanoi suddenly has one off. Or perhaps the joint being eyed is packed to the rafters, an under the table payment not even ensuring a pew. At such moments, a mild hissy fit ensues and the motorbike wheel is turned in the direction of an old favourite.

I do persevere, though.

On the third Saturday morning attempt, I happened to time my run on this old quarter banh cuon eathouse to perfection. The group seated outside on the footpath were downing chopsticks and inserting toothpicks. They were on the way out and I was in. But this was one crowded shack.

Banh cuon is a bit of a process which I've documented before and won't describe again, save to say that in a popular joint like this one, the scooping, smothering, steaming, peeling, rolling, cutting, scattering and garnishing routine takes forever when one is down the queue a bit.

More perseverence is required.

It is worth it, though. Banh cuon is steamed rice pancake, in which is rolled a tasty mixture of minced pork and tree-ear mushroom. On top, the crunch of dried shallots and the zing of mint and coriander and, for dipping, a golden nuoc cham. An egg is slapped in pancake for a bit of variation.

A new favourite is added to my list of Hanoi food gold. I may never get a berth again, though!

Pancake Hike

Two serves of banh cuon, two egg numbers, one iced tea - 42,000VND (USD$2.60, AUD$3.40)

Thanh Van Banh Cuon
14 Hang Ga
Old Quarter, Hanoi

Pho Franchise

The Spot: Located on one of Hanoi's shadiest streets, at 37c Phan Dinh Phung, Pho 24 is one branch of a fast growing chain of noodle soup franchises. In Saigon, the distinctive green signage denotes a total of 21 branches, a presence which surely compares with McDonalds' in cities in the States or Downunder. This spot in Vietnam's capital is in amongst some quite chic cafes and boutiques but the real Hanoi is close at hand, in the form of monstrously noisy construction sites all around, a dinky one man photo-copy shop nearby and the archetypal ground level tea and fag seller at the front door.

Space and Atmosphere: Classy, almost minimalist, a far cry from the cluttered detritus of the average family pho show in Hanoi. The front area is partitioned glass serving station, adjacent to which is a counter for five or six punters not unlike a Japanese ramen bar. It's a step through a waste of space courtyard to the main dining area, which seats about 30. Lots of door opening and swishing of hands by the waiting staff, who outnumber the customers, lead me to my table. Shiny, simply designed square black timber tables and stools, white walls, red lanterns, nice paintings of herbs and kitchen utensils.

Shopfront Style: Glassy and green, with a touch of neon.

Sticks, Condiments and Crockery: All white, including the plastic chopsticks. Even the toothpicks are wrapped in trademark stamped white paper. Individual square platters of herbs (Asian basil, saw-leaf coriander), chili, lime, beanshoots and thinly sliced onion make this set up more like southern-style pho than Hanoi pho. One thing that really got my goat was the bloody trademark stamped paper placemat foisted upon me as I sat down. With nothing to weigh it down and half a dozen overhead fans buzzing about the ceiling, I spent my 'order to delivery gap' chasing the friggin' thing around the restaurant.

Serving Station: The cone-of-silence style, the chefs and their preps and pots like monkeys at the zoo.

Meat Generosity: The menu reads like an anatomical run down on the bovine; flanks, brisket, muscle, tendon, fat and tripe all hanging out. In my bowl, there's carefully weighed portions of beef and brisket, probably equivalent to the recommended daily intake for both protein and fat. Pho 24 servings are a precise science, as expected in such a franchise. 

Order to Delivery Gap: Enough time for me to run a marathon after my recalcitrant placemat. A tad longer than the industry average.

Stock Factor: When the plate of herbery arrived at the table and armed with the knowledge that Pho 24 started as a Saigon outfit, I was expecting a slightly sweet stock. Not so. I wonder if the ingredients are altered to cater for more purist Hanoi tastes?

Cost: Not surprisingly, the most expensive pho outing in the swoop, ranging between 24,000 and 35,000VND a bowl (USD$1.50 - 2.15, AUD$1.90 - 2.80).

Rank: Four of nineten.

Laos Market Shots: Mekong Fish

There are 773 species of fish in the Mekong River, 589 of them are to be found in the Laos currents. These pink and silver beauties got hooked and ended up straight-jacketed and on the slab at the market fishmonger's. I've got no idea what they are, nor even if they are the actual species that are salt-encrusted and grilled all over Luang Prabang and Vientiane.

There is a list of fish here but I pretty much gave up when I read the above numbers. It actually looks like the fish angled out of West Lake by my neighbours here in Hanoi.

Does anyone know anything about fish?