Chai Tea

Chai is one of the most nostalgic smells of my childhood, along with sourdough toast. Every morning, while my sister and I were growing up, my mom would drink a chai with soy milk for breakfast. I love the smell. 

But you know what I don’t love so much? Oregon Chai’s sugar content. Oh man, this stuff is chock full of sugar. I have nothing against sugar. I crave it all the time. But should you drink that much sugar for breakfast? Me thinks not. You might as well drink a large Coke or Pepsi.

My mother is addicted to Oregon Chai. For years, I’ve wanted to make her a healthy alternative. This is it! Honey and spices make this sweet, warm, and spicy. Mixed with your favorite milk, it becomes creamy and comforting. It’s everything I wanted from a chai concentrate and nothing I don’t. It smells like Christmas and tastes like home. I think you’ll love it too. 

Ingredients

1 teaspoon fennel seeds

3 tablespoons black peppercorns

40 cardamom pods

20 whole cloves

½ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

6 cups water

2 tablespoons of grated fresh ginger

8 black teabags

½ teaspoon vanilla

¼ cup honey

Roughly chop the fennel seeds, black peppercorns, cardamom pods, and whole cloves. Grate the nutmeg. Add all spices to a large saucepan.

Heat spices over low to medium heat until they become fragrant. Stir frequently to avoid burning. 

Add water and grated ginger and bring to a boil.

Remove from heat and add teabags to mixture. Let steep for five to eight minutes.

Remove teabags and squeeze to remove excess water. A wooden spoon is the best tool, since teabags will be hot!

Stir in vanilla and honey. Let stand at room temperature for one hour.

 Pour mixture through a fine-mesh strainer to remove spices.

Store in a covered container in the fridge. Concentrate will keep for two weeks.

To use, mix equal parts concentrate and milk. Serve hot or cold. Enjoy!

Fennel seeds have the best licorice scent

Cardamom pods all lined up

Lines of cardamom pods. Ah. So Satisfying.

You can crush the pods in a coffee grinder. Love this method.

Grated nutmeg - smells like Christmas!

Crushed peppercorns and grated nutmeg

Just a couple of notes… 

Chopping… You can chop the spices on a chopping board, in a mortar and pestle, or in a clean coffee grinder. I found that chopping the spices with a knife takes too long. A mortar and pestle sounds cool but, as I smashed the spices, they’d bounce back out again. So then I was chasing the spices all over the counter. Black peppercorns are like little bouncy balls! Instead, I have a cheap coffee grinder that I only use for spices, not coffee. It’s the easiest. Just dump in the spices, give em a whizz, and you’re done! Minimal effort.

Flavor… If you want a spicier flavor, add more fresh ginger. And, if you don’t feel grating the ginger, you can always just add slices or chunks to the liquid, since you’ll strain them out later anyways. Either way, it’s delicious.

Goat Cheese Tart

This tart is always devoured within 24 hours because everyone in my family is a goat cheese lover.

For my mom, this tart has sentimental value. When we were kids, we’d spend wonderful weekends in Seattle going to children’s theater plays and swimming in the WAC pool. The WAC restaurant used to serve a goat cheese tart that my mom swears tastes just like this one. Alas, the restaurant removed it from their menu. Luckily, I can make this! I love cooking food for my mom that reminds her of nice memories.

This tart makes my mom smile and is totally delicious. It tastes like it’s from a rustic French bakery, yet it’s made in a food processor. Easy and feels refined? Sounds like a winner to me. Enjoy!

This recipe is from Barefoot in Paris, by Ina Garten.

1½ cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting the board

Kosher salt

13 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, divided

3 to 4 tablespoons ice water

¾ cup chopped shallots (3 to 4 shallots)

10½ ounces garlic-and-herb soft goat cheese, such as Montrachet

1 cup heavy cream

3 extra-large eggs

¼ cup chopped basil leaves

⅛ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

For the crust, put the flour and ¼ teaspoon salt in the bowl of a food processor fitted with the steel blade. Cut 12 tablespoons (1½) sticks of the butter into large dice, add to the bowl, and pulse until the butter is the size of peas. With the machine running, add the ice water all at once and process until the dough becomes crumbly. Don’t overprocess. Dump the dough out on a floured board, gather it loosely into a ball, cover with plastic wrap, and refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Roll the dough on a well-floured board and fit it into a 9-inch tart pan with a removable sides, rolling the pin over the top to cut off the excess dough. Butter one side of a square of aluminum foil and fit it, butter side down, into the tart pan. Fill the foil with rice or beans. Bake for 20 minutes. Remove the beans and foil from the tart shell, prick the bottom all over with a fork, and bake for another 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat the remaining tablespoon of butter in a small pan and sauté the shallots over low heat for 5 minutes, or until tender. Place the goat cheese in the bowl of the food processor and process until crumbly. Add the cream, eggs, basil, ¼ teaspoon salt, and the pepper and process until blended.

Scatter the cooked shallots over the bottom of the tart shell. Pour the goat cheese mixture over the shallots to fill the shell (if the shell has shrunk, there may be leftover filling). Bake for 30 to 40 minutes, until the tart is firm when shaken and the top is lightly browned. Allow to cook for 10 minutes and serve hot or at room temperature.

Note: Lightly push the dough into the pan rather than stretching it, or the tart shell will shrink during baking.

The Markets of Hanoi - Part 1

Thanks to a warm, humid climate, Vietnam produces some of the most lush, most flavorful fruits and vegetables I’ve seen anywhere in the world. The markets of Hanoi reflect this beautiful bounty.

Since strolling through food markets is one of my all-time favorite things to do, I have a LOT of photos of markets. Here are some of my favorite pics of gorgeous Vietnamese produce. Enjoy!

Those little green orbs are betel nuts. Apparently, the betel leaf has a fresh, peppery taste. As my guide explained, women of the “older generation” like to chew on the leaves because they’re a mild stimulant, similar to tobacco or caffeine. However, chewing betel nut can stain your mouth and lips red.

The first time I heard about betel nuts was in a musical. Random, right? Well, if you’re a musical theater buff like me, you’ve probably seen South Pacific. Remember the song about Bloody Mary? The sailors commented on how betel nuts turned her teeth red.

Bloody Mary's chewin' betel nuts
She is always chewing betel nuts
Bloody Mary's chewing betel nuts
And she don't use Pepsodent!
Now ain't that too damn bad!

Dried goods for sale

Snake fruit! Incredible. In some varieties, the outside looks scaly like snake skin. This variety is prickly like a cactus. It’s also quite sweet, sour, and juicy.

blocks of tofu

wood ear mushrooms

bowls of rice 🍚

rice on rice on rice 🍚🍚🍚

Banana leaves

Snails!

🐌🐌🐌

Can you guess what these are? Here’s a clue: 🐸🐸🐸

A custard apple

rambutan

banana flower

My Favorite Foods in Hanoi

If I had to pick my favorite thing that I ate in Vietnam…. I don’t think I could do it. I know, I know, but it was all so good! Of course, I liked some dishes more than others. So here are my favorite things in North Vietnam which kind of (not really) narrows it down. I’ll do a list for Southern Vietnam as well…

The dish I reminisce about most often is… bánh cuốn. Oh my god these were great. These steamed rice rolls begin with a thin pancake made of rice batter. Once cooked, it’s topped with a mixture of ground pork mixed with wood ear mushrooms, which are very popular in Vietnam. That’s all rolled up together and sprinkled with crispy fried shallots and cilantro. YUM. That may sound simple, but I have thought about these again and again. The way the thin, chewy rice roll gives way to savory, fatty pork crumbles and earthy mushrooms. The crunch of the fried shallots and the freshness of the cilantro. I could eat an entire platter of these by myself, no joke. Just check out that goodness…

In almost every photo of myself in Vietnam my sweat is somewhere on the scale of “quite light” to “I’m mellltiiing.” This beer helped. It’s light, bubbly, and oh so refreshing.

While walking the streets of Hanoi, we strolled past many beer stalls where little old men were hanging out, drinking beer, and generally escaping the heat. Sort of like how senior citizens in the U.S. gather at diners or Dunkin' Donuts (which recently changed its name to Dunkin', so weird).

This beer itself is quite effervescent, and its flavor is similarly light and subtle. Just one beer won’t get you buzzed. Its lightness is more akin to my favorite beachy drink, the shandy. Check out those bubbles!

Would a trip to Vietnam be complete without a big steaming bowl of phở? No, me thinks not.

I heard the best pho is in Northern Vietnam, in Hanoi. Naturally, I had to have a bowl (or several).

Phở is typically made with beef, but I opted for chicken because I had a feeling it would be like the best chicken noodle soup I’d ever had, times ten. I was wrong - it was even better than that.

The noodles were soft and toothsome. Perfectly slurpable. The chicken was moist and flavorful. The onions were cut so thinly they were virtually translucent. Thanks to their thinness, they wilt a bit in the hot broth, which makes them easily stick to the noodles, so you get a soft piece of onion in every bite. Love. And of course, the herbs. Tiny rings of spring onion and leafy sprigs of cilantro offer freshness that keeps this comforting bowl of warmth on its toes. Add a squeeze of lime, and a sliver of red chili and done. All of these elements are delicious but the broth is truly where its at. It’s deep yet light, complex but straightforward. The perfect broth. I could drink a bucket and be completely satisfied. It’s that good.

Phở is perhaps the most famous Vietnamese dish of all. But did you know it’s typically eaten for breakfast? Not lunch or dinner, as I’d assumed. I think this means I can eat it for any meal, amiright?

Also, check out those noods. I just want to dig my hands into that basket and squish them around. Don’t they look good?! These get a gold medal, a double A+. Absolute noodle heaven.

Makes me want to dive right in. Yum!!

Veggies ready for a bowl of phở

Garlic slices in vinegar

I included a couple of photos of the front of the shop, in case you’re interested.

Oh and not to ruin your appetite but I found these things grossly fascinating. What are they? Does anyone know? Sheep…. balls? Eyeballs? Honestly I have no clue. In case you wanted a reminder that not everything in Vietnam was delicious, scroll down 😬

But what… are… they??

Dumplings? Or something… I didn’t try these but I kind of wish I had.

At the market, I tried another, totally different kind of noodle. Compared to the bánh phở made of rice, these noodles were clear, round, and delicate.

Cellophane noodles, also known as glass noodles, are a type of transparent noodle typically made from water mixed with one of the following: potato starch, sweet potato starch, tapioca, or mung bean starch. In many ways, these reminded me of the Korean sweet potato noodles I’ve had from the H-Mart at home.

But this time, the noodles were livened up with fresh mung beans, crispy fried shallots, cilantro and - get this - eel.

I’ve never been much of an eel person and I blame this on bad mall sushi. One you’ve had greasy less-than-fresh eel from a conveyer belt at a sushi shop situated next to your local TexMex place, you, too, will be forced to rethink eel altogether. Also, I think my distaste has something to do with the eels from the Little Mermaid. Not even joking. When I was five I went to Disneyland and, according to my parents, I hid under the seats when Ursula and her eels came onto the stage. But can you blame me? Those eels are creeeeppyy. As are real-life ones.

AHHH. Yup, still hate them.

Ursula’s slimy henchmen. Does this look like something you’d like to eat? Probably not.

Random question: Did any of the Disney movies scare you? Those Huns in Mulan were pretty terrifying too. But, I digress.

Back to food! In this dish, eel is served as crunchy, salty crisps that reminded me more of bacon than mall sushi. Despite my previous aversion, these were some excellent fried eel noods. With a little squeeze of juicy citrus and a few slivers of hot red chili, these were an excellent market find.

And for dessert... little green worms!

One of the very first things I ate in Vietnam was a dessert that looked like little green worms!

We were walking in the market and suddenly came upon a street food stall with bowls and bowls of colorful jellylike desserts. I was immediately attracted to the green squiggles. Compared to the rest of the dessert bowls, these were especially bright, odd, and unlike anything I’d ever seen before. Needless to say, I was intrigued. I had to try it.

Of course, I had to have a bowl. First, you select your jelly flavors, and then the owner pours coconut milk and ice chips on top. The result is a dessert that’s chewy from the jelly bits, creamy and rich from the coconut milk, and accented by crunchy, refreshing ice chips. I was hooked.

The lady encouraged me to get as many flavors as possible but, rather than try 10 flavors all mixed together, I went for four so I could really taste them. I got coffee squares, hibiscus strands, apple spheres, and the green squiggles, which I later learned were pandan flavored.

Apparently, the green strands are meant to look like pandan leaves. Cool, right? 🌱

The taste was unfamiliar, sweet, and not at all like grass. Though I didn’t know it yet, pandan would become a leaf I’d know and love as I traveled through Vietnam and Thailand. And not just in jelly soup, but in all sorts of desserts.

I found this dessert totally fascinating. It was like I’d been shown a new palette of colors and shapes I didn’t even know existed. This was only the beginning of my trip, and I already felt that Vietnam would be a whole new world that could open up a fresh range of flavors and textures for me to play with.

Cooking Class in Ho Chi Minh City

At this point, we’d traveled all the way from the north of Vietnam to the Southern tip. The last city on our food tour was Ho Chi Minh. Formerly known as Saigon, this southern city played a crucial role in the Vietnam War. It’s full of French colonial landmarks like the gorgeous 19th-century Central Post Office and the Notre-Dame Cathedral. My favorite site was the Bến Thành Market. It was bustling, bright, and full of great food.

The food in Saigon was delicious, whether it was traditionally Vietnamese or an amalgamation of colonial influences. Everywhere I went I sampled incredible treats, from minuscule street food stalls to the big, bright, bustling, Bến Thành Market. This is a city that truly loves to eat.

The French influence on Vietnamese cuisine is more pronounced here in Saigon than elsewhere in Vietnam, and I saw that influence during our final cooking class.

As we walked into Grain Cooking School, I was struck by how nice it was. The facilities were brand new, huge, and spotless. Not a pot out of place. Our class cooked in a small studio, but I walked through a much larger space equipped with tv screens, dozens of cooking stations, and top-of-the-line equipment. Clearly, this school was designed to accommodate a lot of people in style.

As you can see behind me, the facilities are brand spanking new

The owner of Grain Cooking School is Luke Nguyen, an Australian chef whose portfolio includes restaurants, books, and of course, this school. Upon seeing Luke’s photo, a woman in my tour group exclaimed, “Oh I know him! He’s popular in Australia.” According to our instructor, Luke’s cooking shows are broadcast internationally in Asia, England, and the U.S.

We kicked off the class with a fish sauce tasting. Fish sauce is nuanced and varied, just like other popular fermented foods such as beer, soy sauce, and yogurt. See how the liquid in the middle dropper is lighter? Even the color was different depending on the number of months the sauce was aged. The color reminds me a bit of soy sauce or cognac mmm.

The fresh veggies were arranged beautifully in this basket

First we cooked shrimp-stuffed squash blossoms. What a treat! I’ve always thought of stuffed squash blossoms as quintessentially Italian. The last time I had them was in Tasmania, and they were stuffed with ricotta cheese. So old-school, so lovely. In my mind, squash blossoms are kind of luxurious because (a) they only appear at the farmer’s market occasionally and (b) they’re delicate. So squash blossoms stuffed with shrimp sounded amazing!!

First, start by making a cut along the blossom’s side. Then, pound the raw shrimp in a mortar and pestle until it becomes a smooth paste. Next, scoop the paste into blossoms and seal the edge. Dip in egg, then dredge in flour, then fry! Then stuff yo face 😛

Ta-Da! The finished dish

Next up? Jellyfish salad! I’m an adventurous eater, but I have to admit I’d never eaten jellyfish before. I’ve seen jellyfish on Noma restaurant’s Instagram stories (they’ll cook anything) and I’ve seen it washed up on beaches aaaand that’s about it. Maybe I’ve just never seen it on a menu? But it was on this menu and it was surprisingly good.

I like squishy desserts with gelatin and I love all things gummy candy, and at first glance the jellyfish looked like jelly candy! Ahhh that’s where it gets the name ‘jelly’ from, I thought. It all makes sense now 😋 The jellyfish did not, however, taste like jelly. Salty with an unexpectedly crunchy middle, the jellyfish strip was slightly chewy in the same way that the layer of cartilage in pig ears has bite.

“I don't think you're ready for this jelly.” — Destiny's Child

Ingredients for the dressing in the jellyfish dish

In addition to jellyfish, the salad was built upon cabbage, red bell pepper, chicken breast, shallot, and lime.

The dressing consisted of vinegar, sugar, fried garlic, and peanuts.

Lastly, shiso leaf (also known as perilla) added some much-needed freshness. We cut the shiso into long chiffonade ribbons. I love how the underside of the leaves is such a gorgeous deep purple color. Chiffonade is a technique you can use to cut food - usually flat leafy food like herbs - into thin strips.

The shiso leaves

The shiso leaves cut into chiffonade

Jellyfish!

The finished salad - superb!

We mixed everything together - salad base, dressing, herbs, and jellyfish - to create a unique salad. The jellyfish ended up being a nice accent to the other ingredients, rather than the star of the dish. After all, jellyfish doesn’t taste like much. It’s salty and chewy, so it’s mostly there for the texture. Thanks to the crunchy sliced cabbage, the dish kind of reminded me of a slaw.

After chowing down on the salad, it was time to make our main course: fish! The ingredients were laid out in beautiful wide wicker baskets.

Ingredients for the fish

Ingredients for the dressing

First, we had to flavor the water. I cut the lemongrass into long strands, knotted them in the middle, and dropped the knot into a pot of water. Later, we steamed the fish over this lemongrass-infused water. As the fish cooks, the flavored water evaporates upwards and flavors the fish too. Genius, right? I LOVE the smell of lemongrass.

Also, we created a delicious paste of aromatics to smear on top of the fish. With a mortar and pestle, I pounded finely chopped lemongrass and garlic into a paste.

Then I smooshed the paste all over the top of the fish, which had already been arranged on a banana leaf. Lastly, I folded the banana leaf into a little square, like an envelope. This square shape is great, because it sealed in moisture and flavor while the fish steamed. The banana leaf is pretty neat. Besides being sturdy, it held in moisture beautifully - just as well as a piece of foil.

While the fish steamed, we prepared the salad on top. I say “salad” because the pieces were larger and heartier than a mere relish. But it’s not a “side” salad, since it goes on top of the fish.

We mixed strands of green mango “noodles” with vinegar, herbs, and goji berries.

One the fish was done, I opened the banana leaf package to reveal the flaky, moist, succulent fish. Yum! I topped it with the salad and dug in. The green mango was fresh and crunchy, the herbs were light and bright, and the goji berries were sweet and chewy.

I love this fish recipe because there are so many possible variations. As we cooked, I kept thinking of ways I could adapt this recipe for when I get home and don’t have, you know, fresh shiso leaves at my fingertips. Perhaps you could swap cucumber noodles for the green mango? And add whatever herbs you have on hand. And, in the unlikely event you have a banana tree in your backyard (but if you do I am totally jealous), you can always use regular old tin foil. Works just as well.

As with most large dinners I *always* find room for dessert. So with full bellies we moved on to the final course. I love custard desserts. I think they’re amazing, satisfying, and versatile. This flan was everything I wanted. It was so smooth and so creamy I could die and go to dessert heaven. Plus the pop of fresh dragon fruit on top was the perfect contrast to lighten it up.

And let’s not forget the espresso with sweetened condensed milk! Does it get any better than this? Nah, coffee is the ideal end to pretty much any dinner.

“Self Portrait.” It me, after eating this meal 🐷

Hanoi Cooking Class

In Hanoi, we took our very first cooking class of the entire trip. Right when we walked into the charming courtyard full of glowing lights, I knew I’d seen this place. However, I’d never been to Vietnam before... Well, before I left home, I watched a video on how to make phở and it was set in this courtyard. Cool, right?

I really do love these lights. It’s wonderful how lights can completely transform a room.

Shrimp rolls were very first dish we made. The instructor was enthusiastic with a capital E. Hopping from side to side he threw up his hands and yelled “These will be the BEST SHRIMP ROLLS EVER.” I was convinced.

The recipe was basically lettuce, bell pepper, cucumber, shrimp, and rice noodles. It was good. But there’s no substitution for enthusiasm, which took this recipe from a six to a nine. Do I sound like a judge on Dancing with the Stars? That would be such a fun job right? You get paid to judge other people! Living the dream 💃🕺

Next up was banana blossom salad. Actually, I’d tried a banana flower salad once before, at a Thai restaurant in NYC called Uncle Boons. The salad was spicy, the beer was served in frozen slushie form, and the theme was “Thai boxing.” Such a good combo. This class, however, was different. I wasn’t at all sure that our banana flower recipe would be quite as tasty as something turned out by a professional chef. I was pleasantly surprised though - it was good!

Out of curiosity I tasted the raw banana flower. Unsurprisingly, it tastes like banana peel. This makes sense, since the flower is essentially surrounded by dozens of undeveloped baby banana buds. It’s the kind of tart “green” tasting fruit that makes your mouth pucker. Don’t recommend it.

However, if you thinly slice and blanche the flower, it completely changes. Gone is the green peel taste. And, once topped with a sweet-savory vinaigrette, it tastes even better. Besides banana flower, the salad featured peanuts, cilantro, shallots, sliced pork, and cooked shrimp.

I soon learned that “salad” had a malleable definition in Vietnam. In the same way that Midwesterners allow large quantities of mayonnaise, cookies, and marshmallow fluff into their “salads,” Vietnamese (and Thai) cooks think heaps of meat is permissible. Is it actually a salad? Eh, who’s to say. In this case, I’d say yes. As long as there are visible green things (i.e. cilantro leaves) swimming in between the chunks of pork and shrimp, it qualifies as salad in my book.

Banana blossom!

Showing off our finished product. And our guns 💪

Another thing I appreciate about Vietnamese cuisine is its ability to use all parts of the plant, no matter the stage of development. For example, I’ve always thought of bananas as edible if and only if I’m eating a fully grown yellow-colored fruit. Now, I realize there’s an entirely different way to consume this plant - the flower! Another underripe fruit I’d come to know and love is green mango. Again, I always considered ripe mango as the only edible iteration of this fruit. However, after trying several delicious green mango salads that showcase how tart, refreshing, and crunchy the fruit can be, I have a newfound appreciation for mango’s many uses.

Also, how cute are these baby bananas?! 🍌🍌🍌

The Boats of Hạ Long Bay

The second day in Hạ Long Bay, our guide arranged for us to meet local fishermen (and women!) The fishermen of Hạ Long Bay are pretty unique. As the World Monuments Fund explains:

“The bay is a home of the ancient Viet people with occupation by various cultures dating back some 18,000 years, and many important cultural and historical relics from these peoples have been found. The fishing communities who live on the bay still retain their own special culture….

The fishermen live on boats and floating wooden houses in the core-zone of Ha Long Bay, which is dozens of kilometers away from the mainland. They have no home or land ownership and their main livelihood is fishing and aquaculture.”

The fisherman and his wife allowed us to watch as they fished for crabs, shrimp, and fish. What a treat!

Without a doubt, Ha Long Bay is one of the world’s most beautiful bays. Its gorgeous landscape distinguishes it as one of the world’s most precious geographies. Today, it’s recognized as a UNESCO World Heritage site and as one of the New7Wonders of Nature. My photos barely capture the beauty of this gorgeous place…  

Seafood Feasts in Hạ Long Bay

Hạ Long Bay – Day 1

I have always wanted to see Hạ Long Bay. For as long as I can remember, it was on my travel bucket list. In photos, Hạ Long Bay looks like it could be lifted out of the Avatar movies. The lush world of Pandora is actually based on the otherworldly Tianzi Mountains in China, but both locations boast gorgeous scenery.

In many ways, the Bay was as beautiful as I’d imagined. Boats glide peacefully through bright turquoise waters as the pure blue sky frames gorgeous green-capped mountains.

What I was not prepared for was the immense number of other tourists. Somehow I’d imagine that we’d have the Bay all to ourselves. Alas, that’s not how tourism works. We certainly had company. Soon after my tour group and I boarded our boat and settled in, the on-board cooks served the first meal. As you might imagine, it featured multiple kinds of seafood. That’s code for lots of shrimp!! And you know how I feel about shrimp 🦐🍤😋

Another appetizer consisted of oysters topped with a green onion sauce.

Next up was pork fried in a sesame seed crust. This was everyone’s favorite dish. The crunchy exterior was like popcorn chicken but nuttier, thanks to the sesame. I’ve never used sesame seeds to coat pork or chicken but, after eating this dish, it’s definitely something I want to try at home.

Of course, we sampled pork rolls served along with a delicious dipping sauce studded with garlic and cilantro. No matter where we eat this dish, the light, crunchy exterior plus the sweet savory sauce is a combination that’s immensely satisfying. After all, who doesn’t love fried food?

Squid with large chunks of onions, carrots, and morning glory shoots (water spinach) rounded out the seafood selection.

To finish, we feasted on firm white fish cooked alongside delicate slices of carrots and green onions. This dish was light, flavorful, and exactly what you’d want to eat on a boat in the middle of Hạ Long Bay.

The view from our table. The bendy straw was a nice touch 🌀

Hạ Long Bay – Day 2

The following day, our cooks pulled out all the stops and made intricate veggie sculptures. Have you ever seen a carrot carved as a flower? How about a fishing net? Or a candle? It was impressive!

A carrot by any other name would taste as sweet…

Talk about knife skills. Oh and under the carrot is moist fried fish. Yum.

It’s a carrot carved to be a candle votive. Woah! As you can see, the candle cast a soft glow onto some scrumptious looking squid cakes.

Our guide was obsessed with these squid cakes. I always thought it was fun to observe what he liked best, versus what I liked best, versus what the English people on our tour preferred. What we like to eat depends so much on our cultural upbringing, but also on personal preferences for different flavors. Everyone has different taste. And yet, some dishes are universally beloved, like meat on a stick. Behold…

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it 🍖

Besides pork on a stick, we also enjoyed baked oysters, egg soup, and squash cooked in garlic.

We ended the meal with a comforting stew full of chicken, potatoes, and carrots cooked in gravy. It was the most familiar-tasting dish, and a nice finish to yet another lovely meal in Hạ Long Bay.

Roll It Up!

Our first night in Hoi An, we ate at a restaurant famous for bánh xèo. These savory rice pancakes, which literally translate to “sizzling pancake,” are named for the loud sizzling sound that comes from pouring rice batter into a hot skillet. The batter is super simple: just rice flour and water. In some regions, coconut milk is used, which lends an extra richness. Turmeric powder adds a lovely yellow color.

Bánh xèo are beloved for good reason – they’re delicious! They’re also pretty versatile; vegetarian or meat fillings are equally good, so you can stuff them however you like. I’ve heard that Vietnamese-Americans nicknamed these “happy pancakes,” and I love that. They certainly made us happy!

Turmeric powder gives the pancakes their bright yellow hue.

So here’s how you eat it. First, lay two pieces of rice paper on your open palm. Then, add a rice pancake. It already has tasty shrimp, egg, and mung beans. Next, top with salad greens or maybe some pickled vegetables if you’re feeling wild. Our guide called this “local kimchi.” Finally, time for meat! Barbecue pork with sesame seeds is delicious. Or a fried pork roll, if you’d prefer some crunch. Roll everything up into a burrito shape and devour. Oh and don’t forget the sauce. It’s a secret sauce made from minced pork and soybeans. Delicious!

So, to recap my Seven Steps to Enlightenment:

1 – Rice Paper

2 – Rice pancake

3 – Salad

4 – Meat

5 – Sauce

6 – Roll

7 – Repeat until you’re so full they have to roll you out the door 😜

After dinner, I was given a tour of their kitchen. It was fun to see the cook crank out rice pancakes. She was handling TEN pans at the same time. Clearly, she had pancakes down to a science. In contrast, the grill was fairly simple; just coals and a mesh top. I’m so used to grilling with gas at home, that I sometimes forget how much flavor coals give meat. Fires have such a wonderful smoky aroma. Divine.

This restaurant literally serves one dish, and now I see why. Their rice pancake is the perfectly chewy, scrumptious vehicle for savory, fatty, barbecued meat. Their secret sauce was so salty, so addictive, that I came back for thirds and fourths. And then I started eating it with a spoon which was probably a faux pas but who cares IT WAS GREAT.

In my book, Vietnamese bánh xèo deserves a shrine of honor alongside other immensely satisfying cylindrical foods like burritos, pitas, shawarma, falafel, tacos, etc. If you visit Hoi An, add “eat bánh xèo” to your travel to-do list. I guarantee you’ll love it.

A home-cooked feast

In a small town along the road to Hoi An, our guide arranged for a home-cooked meal. He’d known the family for years, and often took his tour groups to their house for dinner. I was curious to see what kind of delicacies came out of a home kitchen, as opposed to a restaurant.

I hung out in the kitchen for a bit and watched them cook, before we all sat down to a feast!

Our appetizer was a delicate pork roll fried to perfection. Sometimes, I find restaurant rolls a bit heavy. Either the dough is too thick, or the filling isn’t fresh enough, or the roll is overly oily. Not these. They were delicious! The outside was light and crispy, like fried lace. And the inside was a mixture of well-seasoned pork. As always, a sweet sauce of sugar, vinegar, garlic, and chili peppers, formed a tasty dipping sauce.

Before it’s fried, the raw rice dough wrapper looks like lace!

As a second appetizer, our hosts brought tiny stuffed tomatoes to the table. They filled halved cherry tomatoes with a mixture of pork, mushrooms, carrots, and onions. I popped one into my mouth and the tomato burst into juicy, meaty morsels. Delicious! And adorable.

Next up was a new take on jackfruit. At the temple lunch the day before, I’d been impressed with how much jackfruit’s texture reminded me of flaked tuna. In this dish, the texture was bouncy, chewy, and highly absorbent. More reminiscent of raw mushrooms. After sautéing the jackfruit, the cook added cilantro, toasted sesame seeds, and slivers of fried tofu.

The main attraction? A pork and potato stew. The potatoes were fried and then added to the dish. Imagine dipping a French fry into a porky sauce. The outside still has bite, but overall it’s soft, and has soaked up all the tasty meat juices. Yum. The pork was also pan-fried beforehand, so its caramelized exterior gave way to fatty juicy meat inside.

To cut the fat was a dish of morning glory sautéed with garlic. Morning glory, also known as water spinach, reminds me of the flat-leaf spinach Americans are familiar with. Although its stalks are hollow, the long, thin stalks look a bit like Italian broccolini. To be honest, I’d never tasted morning glory before visiting Vietnam. But I can certainly see why it’s so popular. Thanks to its tender shoots and leaves that absorb flavor beautifully, it’s the preferred stir-fry vegetable throughout Vietnam and Thailand.

Raw morning glory before it’s cooked.

For dessert, we ended the meal with fresh pineapple slices dipped in chili salt. If you’ve never tried chili salt on fruit, I HIGHLY recommend that combo. It may sound odd, but in the same way that salted caramel works, this works. Sweet-tart pineapple is the prefect backdrop for crunchy salt and red-hot chili. What a wonderful, light end to our multi-course home-cooked feast.

Eat like a monk

My tour group stopped at a temple to eat lunch like monks do – vegetarian! Up until this point, our meals had revolved around pork, beef, chicken, or seafood. Although I love meat, I was eager to see the monks make produce the star of the show. Per usual, we were in for a multi-course feast.

First up, the appetizer - jackfruit and prawn crackers. Despite the name, these crackers were shrimp-free. Just tapioca flour, water, and salt made up these wonderfully light and crispy vehicles for the main attraction: jackfruit.

I’d heard of jackfruit but never tried it. However, I’d heard it allegedly mimicked meat. Yeah right I thought skeptically. The funny thing was, it did remind me of canned tuna! You know how chunked light tuna packed in water flakes apart when you stick a fork in it? Jackfruit flakes in the same way. Its texture was similarity meaty and toothsome, but without tuna’s fishiness. So weird. So surprisingly good. With a bit of cilantro sprinkled on top, I was allllmost convinced it wasn’t actually fruit.

Next up was a delicious vegetarian pho. Again, I was a bit skeptical. After all, I’d already sampled the best chicken phở of my life in Hanoi. I’d dubbed it perfection in a bowl (until I tried bún bò Huế, of course). How could this soup be better? I was convinced that vegetables could not comprise a broth with the same level of depth and intrigue. Again, I was pleasantly surprised.

Rather than deep and hearty like beef phở, the vegetarian phở was light and layered. Meaty mushrooms formed the base, carrots added sweetness, mung beans gave crunch, and chili slivers offered a punch of heat. A piece of cooked morning glory (similar to spinach) added brightness and a burst of color. And, as always, the rice noodles were on point. Nothing about this broth was boring. Finally, I started to get excited about our meal.

The next dish was my favorite and also the simplest. Rice cakes topped with soybean crumble. It was basic, but prepared to perfection.

The rice cakes rested on the plate like five little white moons. Atop this pristine, white canvas was a sprinkle of crispy soybeans, as yellow as egg yolks. To finish, was a sauce made from sugar, salt, water, and pineapple. With chopsticks, I plucked one of these “leaves” from the plate and, just like sealing an envelope, folded it into a half-moon and popped it in my mouth.

The textures were just right. The rice cake felt like biting into al dente pasta. In contrast, the crumble was a shower of salty, crunchy shards. Like leftover potato chips at the bottom of a chip bag (which are underrated, in my opinion). And, upon biting into a folded rice cake, the sauce released a punch of tangy liquid. Yes, it looks simple. But texturally, this dish was the most fun to eat.

Our fourth dish was a hearty, comforting stew made of chunky potatoes, carrots, and fried tofu. The sauce was savory and satisfying. We mopped up the last bits of sauce with soft bread.

Last but not least we chowed down on fried rice. Glistening with oil and studded with bits of mushrooms, carrots, and green onions, this dish proved that Vietnam’s vegetarian food could be every bit as satisfying as its meat-centric dishes.

Why did I ever doubt the temple chef could make a stellar lunch? Perhaps because I imagined monks eat lukewarm gruel three times a day. This meal was anything but. It was light yet satisfying, flavorful and varied. Vietnamese temple cuisine certainly isn’t lacking.

That night, I re-watched the excellent Netflix episode on Jeong Kwan, a Zen Buddhist nun who proves that food and spirituality go hand in hand. Although Korean temple cuisine and my Vietnamese meal differ, both serve as reminders that the absence of meat doesn’t mean an absence of flavor. In omitting meat, the meal shifted the focus to plants, and opened up a whole new realm of cooking possibilities.

Food, like music, fashion, painting, or any creative medium, benefits from a diversity of perspective. Vietnamese temple cuisine treats plants with ingenuity and reverence.

And the best thing I ate in Vietnam was...

An overnight train carried us from Hanoi to Huế, home to my favorite Vietnamese noodles ever. Bún bò Huế, or spicy beef noodle soup, showcases the wonderful parts of phở, like toothsome noodles, fresh herbs, and an addictive, savory broth. What differentiates it from phở and makes it special, are the meatballs and deeply flavorful spicy beef broth.

As a lover of all things spicy, beefy, and noodly, it just doesn’t get better than this.

Right after boarding the train to Huế, I overheard familiar American accents. “Murica!” I thought excitedly. Realizing they were in the cabin right next-door, I popped over and said “Hi!” The couple was from Georgia and in their early thirties, and the first thing I noticed was their HUGE case of beer. Definitely more than two people could reasonably consume in 12 hours. They weren’t just prepared for an overnight rain; they were prepared to paar-taay🍻They kindly offered me a beer as we chatted about local brews and what it’s like to be an American traveling through Vietnam. 

One of the English men on my tour noticed my brewski and decided to join our conversation. He immediately started asking the American guy pointed political questions... In my experience, English people are generally reserved and polite. I’d been in close quarters with my tour group for several days and no one had asked me anything about current politics. Frankly, it surprised me. For the first time in four days, I heard people debate American politics.

The train was no frills but that’s part of the excitement. I listened to a podcast as the swaying train rocked me to sleep. It was an amazing way to travel across Vietnam. 

Upon arriving in Huế I practically leapt off the train. I was ready for noods. Lots of them. That’s when we finally got to sample what became my favorite dish in Vietnam. Our guide led us to an open-air restaurant that specialized in one thing: a big bowl of steaming noodles. Perfect.

This dish was hands down one of the best things I ate in Vietnam. Just look at the succulent slivers of beef. The bright green chives, like a cheerful sprinkling of onion-flavored funfetti. The soft noodles cooked to perfection. And the orange-colored chili oil floating on top always signals flavor. Finish it off with a plate of fresh herbs, lettuce, crunchy mung beans, and a squeeze of lime and that, my friends, is perfection in a bowl. Heaven.

I also loved the two meatballs, both completely different from one another. It’s hard to pick a favorite. On the one hand, the spicy crab meatball offered a welcome bite of seafood in an otherwise beef-heavy broth. But the ground beef meatball was equally good. Soft and tender.

And, in case the broth wasn’t spicy enough, we had not one but TWO chili condiments to choose from 🌶🌶 Ugh, so good. 

After spending twelve hours on a train, this was exactly what I needed. The bún bò Huế revived me. Might as well rename it the elixir of life.

Surprisingly, the other people on the tour were not into it. They complained the dish was too spicy, too hot, too everything. They sat, annoyed, and stared at their noodles as the guide and I gulped ours down. Honestly, I can’t imagine why someone wouldn’t appreciate this dish. This intriguing, balanced, and comforting bowl of noodles was a perfect end to a long cross-country train ride. Their reactions are a good reminder that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. And that it’s ok to not like something when you travel. Maybe a dish is not your cup of tea, and that’s totally fine. More noodles for me!!

Noodles!

A local baker and his wife graciously welcomed us into their home for a quick intro to homemade noodles and rice crackers. All of the classes we’d done up until this point were held in cooking schools designed for tourists. This was different, and I loved getting a close look at how this family prepared such special foods. 

Rice crackers had appeared alongside salads and propped up in noodle dishes throughout Hoi An. Kind of like croutons on a salad, rice crackers provide a nice crunch to an otherwise soft noodle dish.

The cracker making consists of three steps:

1. Cook pancake

2. Dry pancake in sun to transform into cracker

3. Toast cracker

4. Eeeaat

Ok that’s four steps but the last one’s obvious 😜

The recipe actually starts by making very large, thin pancakes. Sort of like a French crêpe. Our host ladled a thin batter of rice flour, water, and seeds onto a hot iron grill.

Then he quickly covered the batter with a pot lid and let it cook. Only 30 seconds. Quickly, he stuck a wooden paddle under the pancake, flipped it onto the green board, and that’s it! Sounds simple, right? Welllll, at the very last second, you must flick your wrist just as you whisk the pancake to the board. Otherwise the pancake sticks to itself and becomes a big blobby blob. Have you ever had duck tape stick to itself? It’s like that. And there’s no un-sticking what’s been stuck, ya feel me?

It’s all in the flick of the wrist

Anyways, my pancakes turned out all right. But the wrist flick takes practice! I’m pretty sure our host can flip pancakes with this eyes closed and one hand tied behind his back. He made it seem effortless. I have newfound appreciation for all the rice crackers I’ve consumed in the last three days. 

Making rice crackers

After cooking, the pancakes are left to dry in the hot sun. After most of the moisture has evaporated, these look more like crackers. Size-wise, the cracker is a little bigger than my hand, if I spread all my fingers out.

Last, we toasted the crackers over hot coals. Basically, this just makes it nice and crispy. Once toasted, it’s ready to eat!

But first, some noods.

Since noodles were our main dish, our host showed us how to make them. The noodles and rice crackers begin in essentially the same way. Make a thin batter of rice flour and water and cook circle-shaped pancakes, much like a crêpe.

Pre-noodle pancake

But this time, you take the cooked pancake, fold it over, and cut it into long, thin strips like so:

This is another dish where patience and repetition is key. Methodically and carefully cut the noodles, and you’ll be rewarded with a tangle of satisfyingly even noods. Cut wildly into the pancakes and you’ll get a bunch of uneven, squashed noodles on your hands. I’m convinced it’s all in the wrists.

Last but not least, we picked fresh herbs as garnish. Now that I think about it, “garnish” makes these herbs sound optional, when they’re actually integral. Since the noodles are squishy, soft, and carbalicious (yes, that’s a word now 🍞🥖🥐🥞) the herbs offer a lighter, fresher note. Kind of like how lemon or vinegar lightens up fried fish.

Our host’s wife took what we made and turned it into some world-class noods. She had already prepared a deep, savory broth, meat and shrimp, and tiny cooked quail eggs.

Vietnamese food is all about balance, and this dish was no exception. The savory broth was addictively good, the noods were expertly cut 😋, the shrimp, pork, and quail’s egg provided a rich fatty flavor, and the herbs added freshness. Oh and the cracker offered crunch. It was glorious. Our Vietnamese guide went back for thirds, so you know it was good.

Hoi An Cooking Class

In Hoi An, I took a super fun cooking class at the Morning Glory Cooking School. We made green mango salad, egg pancakes, two kinds of dumplings, and some amazing noodles. It was a feast!

The mango salad starts with mango (naturally) but the catch is that it was a green mango. Slightly unripe. Not so unripe that you’d make a 😝 face if you ate it, but nowhere near ripe enough to put it in a smoothie. Unripe mangos are firm to the touch and slightly green-tasting with a sweet undertone. Refreshingly tart.

We started the salad by prepping the mango in three simple steps. Peel the mango. Make long vertical cuts all around the outside. Then use the peeler to shave off the outside. That’s it! Three steps that create long, gorgeous ribbons of fruit.

Next, we mixed everything together in a big bowl. I started with thinly sliced onions and mint for freshness, fried shallots for crunch, shredded chicken for fat, and sesame seeds for nuttiness. I topped it off with a chili garlic dressing. After mixing everything together I plated it and dug in. Yum!

one of the few photos in which I’m not sweating profusely in Vietnam (the school was air conditioned woohoo)

Fueled by our mango salad, we moved onto the next dish: egg pancake with shrimp. My love for Vietnam’s take on shrimp is no secret. Sometimes, the shrimp take center stage as the star of the show. Here, shrimp are mere adornment. Sort of like a cherry on a sundae, or a hat on an elderly English lady at a wedding. But I digress. 

I set the pan on fire!!! 🔥🍳🔥

How? I’m not really sure. But the instructor said it was a good sign. In fact, a tall open flame is what you’re aiming for when you make shrimp pancakes. Who knew? Alas, I have no proof. And, like the old saying goes, “pic or it didn’t happen.” But I assure you I almost burned the cooking school down. Not really, but I did make a super high flame that made the other students gasp so let’s just say I’m doing it right. 😎🔥 

Back to pancakes. Basically, you make a pancake from these ingredients: bacon fat, fresh mung beans, eggs, and shrimp. Cook everything in a pan that is hot hot hot.

After that, layer the rest of the ingredients like so: rice wrapper on the bottom, egg pancake in the middle, and on top, mix the lettuce with herbs and sliced cucumbers for freshness and crunch.

Roll everything up like a burrito, and there you have it! It’s rich and satisfying thanks to the bacon fat and egg, crunchy from the cucumber, and fresh from the herbs. Occasionally you bite into a lil shrimp, which is always a treat.

Next up on the menu: shrimp dumplings. “Wait, more shrimp?!” you ask. “Why yes” I’d answer. More shrimp!! Can you ever have enough shrimp? Depends on who you’re asking. In my opinion, there’s never enough shrimp.

Now I have to admit, these shrimp dumplings were not easy to make. In theory, they’re simple. It’s just mashed raw shrimp folded inside rice paper. It’s the folding that takes a lot of skill. The goal was to make the dumpling look like a “white rose.” Unfortunately, my dumplings looked more like I sat on them. But if you squint your eyes and use your imagination, they do kind of look like a rose. Right? Right.

The dumplings on the bottom left are meant to resemble “white roses.”

Mashed raw shrimp for the filling.

Once the rice paper cooks, it turns translucent. That’s how you know they’re done. Then we sprinkled the soft cooked dumplings with crispy fried shallots and to get a crunchy, craveable combo. YUM.

We also made some veggie dumplings because, well, balance. The filling consisted of cooked mung beans, carrots, and green onions.

Each veggie dumpling had a beautiful scalloped edge that looked delicate and refined. It was preeetty difficult to make evenly-sized scallops. As a result, the veggie dumplings were even more difficult to fold than the shrimp. Of course the instructor was amazing at folding dumplings, so I sneakily asked him to fold a few for me. Here’s what a proper dumpling made by a master dumpling maker should look like.

Oh and there was a tasty dipping sauce, of course. Since this is Vietnam.

I totally loved my class at the Morning Glory Cooking School. The instructors were fun and lively and the space was large, well-designed, and modern. Also, the food was delicious. If I’m ever in Vietnam again, a cooking class here will certainly be on my to-do list.

Piggy Pastries and Mooncakes

Along the road to Hoi An, we came across the most delightful dessert: pig pastries. Shaped like cute lil pigs’ heads and filled with sweet mungbean paste, these pastries were by far one of my favorite things in Vietnam.

Why? Because I love anything that’s shaped like tiny food or tiny animals. So imagine a tiny pastry in the shape of a tiny animal. Double win. Love it.

Ugh, so cute.

The “Little Piggy Cake” was a complicated design made with simple ingredients. Just flour, butter, sugar, and mung beans produced a pastry that was solid, chewy, and not-to-sweet. 

Kind of looks like they’re watching you 🐷🐷🐷

One thing I appreciate about Vietnamese pastries is that they’re never over-the-top sugary. The salt to sugar ratio is usually pretty balanced. After all, mung beans are one of the main ingredients.

The second pastry I tried (because I can’t eat just one!) was a mooncake. Initially I was drawn to the design, because the flower on top is beautiful. And I liked the weight and feel of it. As you can see, the pastry is a solid round pat that would fit nicely in your hand.

Beautiful!

The ingredients were pretty intriguing. Besides the usual flour, butter, and sugar trio, there was also squash, ginger sweetmeat, salty lemon, seeds, and lạp xưởng. I cut into the pastry to check out the filling.

Ok so squash is kind of familiar. We eat pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving right? And guzzle Pumpkin Spice Lattes all fall (Basic PSL Lovers, unite!). Ginger is also familiar. I’m a fan of the Gin Gins Chewy Ginger Candy. But lạp xưởng? I had no idea, but I was definitely down to try it. Upon Googling I learned that lạp xưởng is actually a Chinese-style sausage. Which makes total sense because mooncakes are actually very Chinese. 

Chinese sausage, which is typically made from pork, has been incorporated into a variety of Vietnamese dishes, from omelets to mains to pastries. Since the sausages are so salty, they’re used to balance other ingredients. So, in this pastry, the salty pork sausage and salty lemon work to balance the sweet ginger and squash. Cool, huh?

Fluffy and light, these are not. You know how sometimes French and Italian pastries feel like they’re half air? Not these! Both the pig and mooncake were compact meals on their own that could withstand being thrown around in my backpack. But I like that; these were toothsome morsels that give you something to chew on.

Tiny Coffees

The coffees in Vietnam are small, but mighty. Like me. Just kidding. But really, the coffees are super tiny. And they come in little glasses that look like double shot glasses.

When I’m at home, I drink coffee out of a huge mug. This is because I made a rule: I can only have one cup of coffee in the morning. So of course I make that cup as large as humanly possible. In Vietnam, I worried I wouldn’t get my caffeine fix because the cups are so small. Sometimes, I’d order two coffees, just to be sure. And then drink them fast, because they’re tiny. But beware, they are strong. And sweet.

Sweetened condensed milk gives Vietnamese coffees their signature taste. Once you’ve tried sweetened condensed milk in your coffee, regular milk will never be enough. It’s so smooth, so creamy, so, well, sweet, that it makes any coffee taste luxurious. It’s a treat that tastes more like a dessert. I could drink them morning, noon, and night.

In Hanoi, we had the chance to try a local specialty: the egg cream coffee. It was coffee, sugar, and milk whipped up with raw egg yolks to create a creamy, custard-like drink. Now this truly tasted like dessert.

If you’ve ever had a New England-style egg cream, it’s a bit like that. Also, what is ice cream but a bunch of egg yolks mixed with cream? So this was basically liquid ice cream. Creamy, frothy, and rich. SO GOOD.

Since this is a North Vietnamese specialty, the absolute best egg creams are in Hanoi.

First you whip the eggs with sugar. Then pour that on top of an espresso shot.

Whip it. Whip it goooood.

Then you mix in some cacao powder with a spoon.

Et voilà! Gorgeous, thick, and creamy.

Another thing I tried throughout Vietnam was coffee brewed in a double filter. Something about it makes the coffee feel extra special.

Coffee at a café in Hanoi.

The filter has three parts: the bottom, upon which the cup sits. The middle, which consists of a cup and a filter piece inside. And the top, which keeps in the heat.

I tried filtered coffee at cooking class in Ho Chi Minh. The glass was slightly different, but the idea was basically the same.

Both versions had sweetened condensed milk (naturally). And in case you’re thinking “hmm these look a lot like Italian espresso makers.” Yes, you’re (kind of) correct. European-style coffee tools inspired these double-tiered filters. Because, just as French-style baguettes became the base for bánh mì sandwiches, the French occupation of Vietnam left many holdovers. One of which was coffee.

P.S. The owners of that café in Hanoi LOVE dogs. And art. And making art of dogs? Whatever, I like it. And it makes me like their café even more!

The painting on the bottom-left kinda looks like a galloping giraffe amiright?

P.P.S. If you’ve gotten this far into the post, thanks! Just wanted to say thanks for stopping by. That’s all :D

Coffee and Walnut Financiers

For Christmas, my mom gave me Sugar, the newest cookbook by Ottolenghi. It is amazing. The book includes familiar and comforting desserts (cheesecake!) alongside refreshingly new flavor combos (star anise and blackberry). Yotam Ottolenghi is a cookbook legend, and for good reason. His desserts are craveable and inspiring. I want to make everything and I think you will too. 

After flipping through Sugar, I landed upon this recipe for coffee and walnut financiers. I love all things coffee-flavored and these dense cupcakes are no exception. Although, cupcakes might be too basic a term for something so luscious. In French, these “financiers” are named after little rectangle-shaped blocks of gold.

Financiers are a lot like friands, another French dessert. By toasting the butter you make a “beurre noisette,” which gives the financiers an extra rich, nutty taste that is – dare I say – even better than regular butter.

Ottolenghi baked the batter in high-sided Popover pans, so I did too. The icing trickles downwards in a way that makes you want to grab one and immediately stuff it in your face. Oh yeahhhh.

BATTER

⅔ cup/75 grams walnut halves

8½ tbsp/120 g unsalted butter, cut into ¾-inch/2-cm cubes, plus extra for greasing

1¾ cups plus 1½ tbsp./220 g confectioner’s sugar

½ cup plus 1½ tsp/90 g all-purpose flour, plus extra for dusting

1 tsp baking powder

¼ tsp salt

¾ cup/80 g almond meal

8 oz/230 g egg whites (from 6 large eggs)

1 tbsp instant coffee granules, dissolved in ⅓ cup/80 ml boiling water

            My note: Instead, I used 1½ tsp instant espresso coffee

1½ tsp finely ground espresso coffee (such as Lavazza)

ICING

2 cups plus 1 tbsp/250 g confectioners’ sugar

2½ tsp instant coffee granules

2 tbsp hot whole milk

1½ tsp light corn syrup

12 walnut halves for finishing

confectioners’ sugar for dusting

finely ground espresso powder for dusting

1          Preheat the oven to 350°F/170°C. Spread the walnuts out on a baking sheet and roast for 10 minutes. Remove from the oven and, when cool enough to handle, roughly chop them into ¼ -inch/0.5-cm pieces. Set aside until ready to use.

2          Place the butter in a small saucepan and cook over medium heat until melted. Continue to cook until the butter is foaming, gently swirling the pan from time to time, to allow the solids to brown more evenly. You will see dark brown sediments begin to form on the sides and bottom of the pan. Continue to allow the butter to bubble away until it turns a rich golden brown and smells of toasted nuts and caramel. Remove the pan from the heat and let it stand for 5 minutes, to allow the burnt solids to collect at the bottom of the pan. Strain through a fine-mesh (or muslin-lined) sieve, discarding the solids. Allow the browned butter to cool slightly before using. It should still be warm when folding into the mix later. If it is too hot, it will cook the egg whites; if it is too cool, it will be difficult to incorporate into the mix.

3          While the butter is cooling, sift the confectioner’s sugar, flour, baking powder, and salt into a medium bowl. Add the almond meal and whisk to combine. Place the egg whites in a mixing bowl and use a whisk or fork to froth them up a little – you will not need to whisk them completely. Pour the egg whites and dissolved coffee granules into the dry ingredients and stir until just combined. Add the browned butter and mix until the batter is thick, shiny and smooth. Fold in the walnuts and ground espresso, then cover with plastic wrap – making sure that it actually touches the surface of the batter – and transfer to the fridge for 2 hours.

4          Preheat the oven to 400°F/200°C. Butter the molds of your chosen muffin pan and dust with flour. Tap away any excess flour, then spoon the batter into each mold, filling them three-quarters full. Bake for about 25 minutes if using a regular muffin pan, 14 minutes for a mini-muffin pan, or until the tops are a little cracker and a skewer inserted into the middle comes out clean.

My note: When I used a high-sided Popover pan, these still took 25 minutes to cook.

5          To make the icing while the cakes are in the oven, sift the confectioners’ sugar into a medium bowl and add the coffee, milk, and corn syrup. Mix until smooth and set aside; don’t worry if there are undissolved coffee granules in the icing – these look good!

My note: Personally, I found the icing a little runny. I wanted the icing to slowly crawl down the sides. So, I kept adding 1 tbsp powdered sugar at a time to thicken the batter.

6          Remove the pan from the oven and set aside for 5 minutes, before gently tapping it against your work surface to encourage the cakes to fall out. If there are any stubborn bits sticking to the pan, use a butter knife to gently ease them out. Place the financiers on a wire rack to cool completely.

7          Spread the icing on top of the financiers and finish each with a walnut half and a dusting of confectioners’ sugar and finely ground espresso powder before serving.

Hoi An

Hoi An is a town everyone visits. And with good reason.

It was polished, manicured, and sliiiightly more touristy than other Vietnamese cities. Tiny twinkling lights lined the streets and visitors biked leisurely down narrow lanes. The food was delicious; the people looked happy. If Disney World got to design a Vietnamese town, it would look like Hoi An. It was that cute.

On the first day, we strolled through a local market known for excellent fish, meat, and produce. Small red fish, shellfish, and scallops were piled onto colorful metal platters.

And there were noods. Lots of noods.

(noods is code for noodles, obvs)

 We spotted crabs, whose claws were tied up with long pieces of grass. Some were secured with rope or strips of t-shirts. Not your usual rubber bands.

Also, how adorable was our guide? He very gamely held the slimy crabs so I could snap a photo. And no, the headband and face tattoos are not his usual uniform.

He’s cheesing from cheek to cheek because the Vietnamese national soccer team just won!!! Everyone was super excited, from grown men to little grannies. I saw more than one granny start dancing through the market, boogying back and forth to the national anthem.

Even this toddler was decked out in red and yellow.

Later that day, our tour group went for a bike ride. It was absolutely pouring. But we threw on some oh-so-fashionable plastic rain ponchos and ventured into the storm. I pulled the poncho strings down and tied the strings in a neat little bow so only the moon of my face poked out. What can I say? I’m a fashionista.

Thanks to the torrential downpour, all the plants were green green green. It was gorgeous!

We started to bike to a nearby farm. Along the way we met a cow.

And saw a farmer, tending to a rice field.

And raced down this rainy lane at top speed.

 Finally, we arrived at a local farm that supplies several restaurants in Hoi An. We strolled past the neat rows of herbs and salad greens.

And watched how they plant, grow, and harvest their tasty veggies.

An employee showed us how he prepares the soil beds for planting.

He even let me hold the big watering cans, eek!

We even planted some plantlings!

Although, judging by our (woefully wobbly) lines, none of us are becoming farmers anytime soon😂

We ended our biking expedition by strolling through the farm’s rows of vibrant, bright greens.

Soma Chocolate

On Friday, we visited Soma Chocolate to eat our weight in chocolate!!

I had drooled over Soma's Instagram photos before we left for Toronto, so I was fully prepared to love everything they make. Soma did not disappoint; their truffles, toffee, and gelato are all delicious.

Tastings are held at the Distillery District location, one of Soma's two shops (the other is downtown). The Distillery was an unexpectedly cool collection of artsy shops and restaurants. We opened the door to Soma's industrial-chic shop and were immediately met with the luscious smell of chocolate.

Our tasting guide Samantha had already laid out small plastic boxes filled with samples. We began with the old fashioned bar, which is a sweet, crunchy throwback to early chocolate.

See the deep grooves and crackly texture in the picture below? That's because this bar was made on old fashioned equipment, which produces a larger, less smooth bar. The texture reminded me of chopped, crumbled peanuts. It was quite sweet with visible sugar crystals.

The old fashioned bar. (Photo credit: Soma Chocolate)

Next we sampled chocolate from Madagascar, Ecuador, and Jamaica. As we ate, Amanda explained how each sample had a unique undertone of either tangy yogurt, red fruit, or sweet peach. Each bar was dark, yet distinct.

These distinctions stem from the plant's place of origin. Cacao beans, like wine grapes, have a specific "terroir" - a unique taste drawn from the soil, minerals, and climate of its growing region.

As we ate, Samantha pointed to the growing regions on a small globe, and described the "bean to bar" process. Cacao beans are farmed, dried, roasted, ground, and mixed with sugar, milk powder, and other toppings. Her lesson was a good reminder of the long, detailed, labor intense journey chocolate takes to become the stuff we know and love.

A map of Toronto is printed on the bars. Will it keep you from getting lost? No. Will it make a tasty snack if you're hopelessly lost? Yes.

At the end of the tasting, Samantha handed us two small, perfectly shaped truffles. The Balsamic Truffle had a smooth, deep, fruity aftertaste. Unlike the vinegar we use in salad dressings, this balsamic didn't taste acidic at all. The Thai Stick Truffle was completely different, but equally delicious. A sprinkle of chili and a curl of toasted coconut graced the top; inside, the truffle was split into white coconut milk and dark chocolate ganache. It was warm and aromatic with a zip of ginger, lime, and lemongrass. Everyone agreed this was the best truffle of the two.

The Balsamic Truffle is subtly sweet and sour. The Thai Stick truffle is aromatic, warm, and creamy. Both are very well crafted.

The tasting ended, and we got up to peruse the store for more. Soma's walls were stocked with so many wonderful treats, it was hard to choose. Brenna found a bar topped with sumac and dried cherries, and my mom selected lemon toffee coated in milk chocolate and pistachios. I found something slightly different. Before visiting Soma, I learned the owners had recently traveled to Thailand. Inspired by the fresh fruit at Thai markets, they made a bar that has - get this - no chocolate. Well, there is a bit of cacao oil, but the bar is essentially mango, dried chili, and salt. I ripped into a bar, and decided it tastes like fancy fruit leather.

The Ruby Red has cherries, cranberries, barberries, and Sumac. The Mango Chili has mangos, lime, Thai chili, Aleppo pepper and salt. Yum!

Of course, I couldn’t leave without some actual chocolate, so my mom surprised me with a bar of Porcelana. Porcelana is like the Porsche of chocolate; it's a cacao variety that's prized for its bright white fruit, light colored beans, and well-balanced taste. It’s famously hard to procure, which makes it even more covetable. I also grabbed some toffee cookies (to sneak into movie theaters) and my mom found chocolate in the shape of a birch branch. The filling is like a fancy PB&J, where a ribbon of sour cherry jelly runs through crunchy hazelnut butter. We're planning to slice up the branch at Thanksgiving dinner alongside pumpkin pie. I'll let you know how it tastes!

This chocolate mould was carved from a birch branch found in the forests of Ontario, Canada. Beaver approved.

Soma has won multiple awards for their chocolate and I can see why. They craft the highest quality cacao into beautiful truffles and creative flavor combos. A lot of thought goes into each product. Their creations are whimsical yet sophisticated, unique and addictive. In short, they're special. Honestly, it's some of the best chocolate I've ever had. If you're ever in Toronto, give it a try!