Banh Mi in NYC

I've been going to my favorite banh mi place in Oakland since high school. Until now, I haven't been able to find a place quite like it in New York. Of course in West LA you can drive an hour east or an hour south and find delicious Vietnamese sandwiches in either direction. But with my first visit to Banh Mi Saigon, I finally found a place I can return to regularly.

More...


In a very Vietnamese fashion, Banh Mi Saigon shares its store space with a jewelry shop. The owners are well aware that the sandwiches are the main draw so they make you walk past display cases of jade necklaces and gold bracelets to get to the banh mi. I wonder how effective that is? It seems unlikely to me that a $5 sandwich order would turn into a $200 jewelry purchase.

While the sandwiches are not as cheap as they are in places with a vibrant Vietnamese population and low rent, you can still get a Banh Mi Saigon signature sandwich with grilled pork, pate, pickled daikon and carrot, and cilantro (spicy or not, up to you) for less than $5.

I like my banh mi a little sweet, with an abundance of sweet pickles. The buttered toast is also a nice addition. And of course, you need a flaky, fresh baguette for the proper sandwich. The banh mi here hit all those marks.

Banh Mi Saigon
banhmisaigonnyc.com
198 Grand St
(between Mulberry St & Mott St)
Little Italy/Chinatown, NY 10013
(212) 941-1541

^

Read More

Destination Vietnam #3: Bánh Mì

Bánh Mì from a Bakery in Sa Pa

As you can imagine, I encountered many Vietnamese sandwiches on my journey through the country. I discovered, much to my ordering difficulties, that bánh mì typically refers to only the baguette in Northern Vietnam and not an entire sandwich. I didn't have too many difficulties getting sandwiches in Saigon, but in Hanoi, I typically had to ask for bánh mì thịt nướng for bánh mì with grilled pork, or bánh mì patê for bánh mì with pate mixture.

More...

So how are bánh mì different in Vietnam? Well for one thing, the ingredients vary much more widely. Here in the States, you can find the pate, but more commonly is grilled pork, chicken, or even char-siu, pickled carrots and daikon, cilantro, cucumber, jalepeños, and seasonings, which may include soy sauce, Maggi sauce, mayonnaise, etc. That makes up the sandwich at my all-time favorite bánh mì location in Oakland.

While in Vietnam, you'll commonly see carts on the streets with the Laughing Cow logo, indicating the use of Laughing Cow cheese spread in its sandwiches.

Besides Laughing Cow, I also saw bánh mì ladies (they are always women) use Camembert. Beyond the cheese spread, some sandwiches had sweet chili sauce, grilled chicken, pate, cucumbers, pickles, tomatoes, and other unidentifiable ingredients.


Our resident bánh mì lady

When we were in Hanoi, we actually frequented our bánh mì lady on the street quite often. Her sandwiches were simple, delicious, and satisfying. However, we were in a backpackers' touristy area and so she was selling them for about $1.75 USD. Around town though, they can be found for much less than that. Still, seeing her out on that corner day and night, even in torrential rains, shows just how hard it is to earn a living in that country. As for as sanitation, it's best a topic to try to keep out of your mind when eating on the street. The ingredients aren't refrigerated, she doesn't wash her hands, and you have no idea how old the food is. If this is all a major concern to you, get up early in the morning and buy a sandwich fresh to reduce chance of contamination. But as with all food in Vietnam, you'll miss out if you don't take chances.


Bánh mì from the bánh mì lady

If you're looking for a bánh mì location somewhat more trackable than "the woman on the corner," try Như Lan in District 1 of Saigon, near the river. I would hazard to guess that every taxi driver knows of this restaurant, but it wouldn't hurt to provide the name and address written down, given the difficulties of Vietnamese pronounciation. It's an open-air bakery, deli, and restaurant. There is a wide, relatively easily accessible menu. Given the layout, if you don't know what you'd like, you can always walk up and point to items in the display cases.


Nhu Lan
66 Ham Nghi, Ho Chi Minh City


Anyone know what's the deal with the Star of David?


Cucumbers, ham, tomato, onions, mayo, and spicy peppers

^

Read More

7 Courses of Beef You Wouldn't Want to Miss: Vietnam San Gabriel

Admittedly the title is a little unclear, but then so is the name of the restaurant. Feeling like I deserved a treat after the mind-numbingly boring auditing training, I hopped in my car and followed Jonathan Gold to San Gabriel for my first experience with Seven Courses of Beef.

More after the jump...

For awhile, I've heard about the famous Bo 7 Mon or Seven Courses of Beef from my mom and several Vietnamese friends. I've rarely seen it in restaurants however, finding out that it's usually served for special occasions or in high-end restaurants. Of course, when I eat Vietnamese, it's hardly ever high-end. Even $7 pho is too expensive for me. When I read Jonathan Gold's Counter Intelligence article on Vietnam, I knew I had to try it. Since this is a Vietnamese heavy entry, I'd appreciate the help of Wandering Chopsticks for any corrections.

The generically named restaurant seemed a little odd considering it didn't contain the words "pho, Saigon" in the name or end with a number. But I suppose coming from a rich history of restaurants, the food and experience of the proprietors can speak for itself. Michael Le, whose parents own the famous Golden Deli, runs Vietnam, and it was him that took my order. Explaining that this was the first time I had Bo 7 Mon he graciously helped me with the rice paper wrappings and introduced each course. Of course, finding out that I wasn't Vietnamese, he was much more patient with my pronunciation.


My mis en place for meat with bo nhung dam in the center

A young Vietnamese waiter with broken English brought out the rice paper, herbs, do chua (pickles) and sweet dipping sauce to accompany the beef. First up, the bo nhung dam described as "beef dip in vinegar broth" in the menu. My first instinct was to dip my soup spoon into the boiling pot. After all, it was crystal clear with a few onions, nothing that looked particularly flavorful. Of course my assumptions associating color with flavor were completely wrong when I tasted the sharp astringency of the vinegar. Dipping my thinly sliced pieces of steak into the broth briefly, keeping the meat rare, I wrapped it haphazardly in soaked rice paper with the pickels, basil, cilantro and topped it with some light sauce. Although the spring roll was a colossal disaster, the pieces I managed to get in my mouth were well worth the embarrassment (keep in mind, at this point they still thought I was an extremely inept Vietnamese).



I found a mysterious pale strip on my plate with the cucumbers. It was slightly flesh, resembling an trumpet mushroom. Putting a little in my mouth, I drew back immediately. It tasted like soap and somehow immediately drew all the moisture out of my tongue. Odd sensation yes, but not one I'd like to repeat. When I got home, I did a little research and I'm reasonably certain that I had my first experience with raw galangal. Wandering Chopsticks says that this was probably astringent green banana peel since Vietnamese don't eat raw galangal.


Clockwise from top left: bo cha dum, bo nuong la lot, bo mo chai, bo sa-te (sorry for the shrimp chip in the way)

Next came four courses at once. Since I was only one person, there were only a few pieces of each beef course, but still enough for two people with another appetizer on the side. Bo cha dum (baked ground beef) didn't look like much, the essentially large meat ball, had more flavor than anything you find on top of pasta or in the freezer case at Ikea. According to Wikipedia, the beef is rolled in caul fat to protect it during cooking. I don't know how much it protects the meat, but it sure flavored it.

Bo nuong la lot (charbroiled beef in aromatic lot leaf) reminded me of the grape leaf rolled rice in Greek cuisine. In fact, the leaves tasted similar, but also like the lotus leaves used to wrap Chinese sticky rice. It made the beef slightly sweet and uniquely flavored compared to the two preparations I had before.

Bo mo chai (grilled beef steak) surprised me. My first impression was a beef sausage, not too common in Asia. But biting through the sausage, I realized it was actually a tightly rolled piece of grilled steak wrapped around a scallion. Although the simplest in flavor, this course let the essence of the beef shine through without clouding it with other flavors, including that ubiquitous fish sauce.

Bo sa-te (beef in sate sauce) looked much more like a meatball than bo cha dum but had the consistency of a hamburger. The meat was tightly packed, slightly tougher to chew. I'm not entirely sure what "sate sauce" is. A couple contenders could be the peanut sauce used in Thai cooking, or maybe the sacha sauce of Chinese, but the flavor didn't match either one.



Eating all this beef, I needed something to cleanse the palate. Out came the next dish bo salat simply "beef salad." The thinly sliced red onions certainly didn't clean my palate, but it was a break from the meat. This dish was heavily doused in fish sauce and the familiar flavors of grilled Vietnamese dishes returned. Black pepper on the beef gave a nice change of heat compared to the peppers in the other courses.




Michael Le came over and asked how I was doing. We talked, surprisingly, in Chinese for awhile when he realized my true ethnicity. It isn't uncommon for Vietnamese people to speak Chinese or to have Chinese heritage, and in fact, I could pick up on a slight accent. He brought out the last course chao bo (beef porridge). Unlike Cantonese congee, this porridge was thin and soupy with broken rice and ground beef and strands of fresh ginger. The consistency was more like Japanese ochazuke. While a refreshing way to end the meal, I'm not a fan of boiled meat.

My first experience with seven courses of beef went extraordinarily well. Perhaps I picked a good restaurant or perhaps I was just born to eat a cow prepared seven ways. Jumping right into the beef, I neglected to mention the decor of the restaurant. Simply put, it's a Vietnamese restaurant, how different do they get? Surprisingly though, Vietnam takes credit card, not that I needed it. What do you think seven courses costs? Less than $2 per course actually. I thanked Mr. Lee, ordered a pork banh mi to go, and drove off eager to bring someone back with me next time.


It was delicious by the way!

Vietnam
(626) 281-5577
340 W Las Tunas Drive
San Gabriel, 91776
Closed Thursday
$14 for seven courses of beef; $3.25 for banh mi

^

Read More

Where to Buy Me Some Banh Mi: BC Deli in Oakland

I am testing out my newly formatted entries thanks to help from Drew of How to Cook Like Your Grandmother. This new addition allows me to create summaries of entries to give you a taste before you jump right in. So for the first entry, I decided to write about a backlogged place that I've been eager to share. It's in Norcal, not Little Saigon in the OC, but BC Deli Sandwiches makes the best Vietnamese sandwiches.

More after the jump...


Sandwich menu

This familiar sight has greeted me ever since high school when I used to come to BC Deli, buy five sandwiches and get one free. Vietnamese sandwiches, or banh mi, are hot commodities in predominantely Asian schools. With their old prices, I used to pay $10 for six sandwiches and sell them for $5 each during lunch. Twenty dollar profit easy. Now that they've raised their prices, the profit margin is not quite as large, but they are still a steal compared to a similar sandwich at any American sandwich chain. Everytime I come here, I always buy six sandwiches at a time, even if it's just for myself. They're just too good to pass up.

My favorites are the grilled pork and the grilled chicken sandwiches. They have a char-siu sandwich as well, but they don't appeal to me that much. Nothing about their meat is particularly great, but the way the mayonnaise, soy sauce and possible fish sauce blend together make each sandwich an umami bomb. Also, they have the best pickled daikon and carrots in the Bay Area. Now they have a special toaster to heat up the baguettes, giving each sandwich a satisfying slightly browned, yet always flaky crust. For the record, can anyone tell me what the Vietnamese name for the white and orange pickles is? I've heard a few things, but many Vietnamese people can't seem to agree on what it's called. One of my friends told me she's only called them "sour things" in Vietnamese. For a while, I kept a picture on my phone to order them visually at restaurants instead of butchering the tongue instead.


Grilled pork sandwich, my trusty #5

Though I always buy six at a time, the right portion is about one and a half for me. I could probably stop at one, but the half inevitably gets eaten as well. Otherwise, the rest of the sandwiches keep well in the fridge. They are fun to give out (or sell) but are amazing the next day too. I've tried the banh mi at some other places including the Lee's Sandwiches chain and I still come back to BC everytime. There's just something magical about their sandwiches.

On another personal note, the pickles are extremely easy to make. Just combine white (or rice) vinegar, sugar and a little salt with carrots and daikons cut julienne and leave them floating in the pickling juice for a few hours. Keep them chilled for a week or two and put them on anything or make your own sandwiches.

BC Deli Sandwiches
818 Franklin St
Oakland, CA 94607
(510) 286-9978
$2.50 average for a sandwich or $12.50 for six like I always get.

^

Read More