visavietnam.net.vn - The cab driver stopped on
the bustling boulevard Pho Hue and pointed at a mishmash of incongruent four
and five-story buildings across the street. I hopped out and dodged buzzing
motorbikes and exhaust-belching cars, trying to get from curb to curb.
Translated simply as
“wheat,” the banh mi is a delicious and ever-varying combination of deli-style
pork, pate and veggies (think carrots, cilantro, cucumber, etc), stuffed into a
soft and crunchy French baguette. Regional variations in Vietnam involve adding
headcheese, pork sausage and various other vegetables.
In an age of hipster food
mashups – Korean tacos, anyone? – the banh mi is the product of a true cultural
and culinary blend. No food trucks, Instagram photos or tweets led to its
creation. The sandwich began with colonialism – specifically, the establishment
of French Indochina in 1887 – when the occupying French simply slathered butter
and pate inside a baguette. Then when the Vietnamese sent the French packing in
1954, they put their own spin on the sandwich, adding slices of pork, herbs and
pickled vegetables, and creating the banh mi as we know it.
The rest of the world
didn’t learn about this spectacular sandwich until after the end of the Vietnam
War in 1975. As many southern Vietnamese emigrated to the United States, Europe
and Australia, they brought recipes, including one for their iconic sandwich.
As a result, if you’re eating a banh mi outside of Vietnam, you’re probably
enjoying a southern-style snack: the baguettes are generally bigger and they’re
crammed with more veggies and herbs, such as cilantro, carrots and hot peppers.
Oddly, the banh mi has always
been the one kind of food I liked better outside its home turf. When I tried a
banh mi in Ho Chi Minh City a few years earlier, I’d found the bread stale and
the ingredients skimpy; inside was a paltry mix of a few slices of ham, a smear
of pate and flaccid cilantro and carrots. I gave up after one sandwich. I’d had
far better banh mi in New York City; even Minneapolis! Was I crazy? Could the
banh mi outside of Vietnam actually be better?
Now back in Vietnam, I was determined to find out the truth. Would my
faith in the banh mi in its homeland be restored? Is the banh mi the best
sandwich in the world?
At Banh Mi Pho Hue,
Geoffrey Deetz – a chef and Vietnamese food expert who’s been living in the
country for nearly 15 years – was peppering the sandwich maker with questions
about ingredients. Meanwhile, I’d just been served my banh mi, partially
covered with piece of white paper affixed with a rubber band.
Bánh Mì Chả Cá |
I pulled back a side of the
baguette to get a look at the ingredients: pork deli meat, fatty char siu pork,
pork floss, creamy pate, Chinese 5 spice and, curiously, butter. The sandwich maker finished it off by pouring
pork-chili gravy inside. Interestingly, I saw none of the herbs and veggies
that spill out of the baguettes served in southern Vietnam or outside of the
country.
Bánh Mì Ốp La (Bánh Mì Trứng) |
“The banh mi sandwiches in
Hanoi are much more one dimensional than other parts of the country,” Deetz
told me. “If you gave someone here the kind of over-stuffed, herb-laden
sandwich you’ve eaten in other parts of the country, they’d probably throw up.”
Bánh Mì Xíu Mại |
Happily, I didn’t throw up.
This banh mi was radically different, true. But it was just as good as the
sandwiches I’d eaten elsewhere. The crunch of bread was followed by an
interplay of porky goodness with a slight kick of spice. It was more like a meat sandwich. I loved it.
“They don’t really like
overly complex food in Hanoi,” Deetz added. “But so many things in here have a
function: the pork floss soaks up the sauce, the pate adds moisture and the
fact that the baguette is lightly toasted keeps it from getting soggy in this
immense humidity.”
While in Vietnam, I also
tried a banh mi in Hoi An, a Unesco World Heritage-designated city on the
central coast. In a region known for fertile soil and vibrant herbs, it’s no
surprise the sandwiches there are stuffed with verdant vegetables.
Bánh Mì Chả Lụa |
As I did in Hanoi, I asked
everyone who would listen where I could find the best banh mi around. The
answer was Banh Mi Phuong (Phan Chau Trinh 2B) a
diminutive shop in the centre of town. I ordered the classic, which the menu
board indicated contained “bread, pork, ham, pate”. But there was so much more:
long slices of cucumber, fresh cilantro, pickled carrot and even juicy tomato
slices. Phoung finished it off with a flurry of sauces: a squirt of chili sauce
and two different pork sauces, one from boiled pork and one from smoked pork.
The key to a good banh mi
is, in fact, the bread. A bad baguette – a hard, crumbly log – will ruin an
otherwise fine sandwich. Phuong’s bread, baked right next door, was ultra-soft,
almost deflating when I took a bite, while also maintaining a crispy exterior.
Top that (literally) with high-quality pork, two different pork-based sauces
and a few surprises like tomato and pickled papaya and I had a very good
sandwich in my hands.
All told, I sampled about
15 banh mi sandwiches over two weeks in Vietnam. Happily, I’d eaten some of the
best sandwiches I’d ever had. That banh mi I tried in Saigon a few years ago –
the one that turned me off to the sandwich for a while – was just a fluke.
But is the banh mi the best
sandwich in the world?
There’s scene in The
Simpsons in which Homer expresses bewilderment when his daughter, Lisa, becomes
a vegetarian.
“What about bacon?” Homer
asks.
“No!” Lisa says.
“Ham?”
“No!”
“Pork chops?”
“No!” Lisa says. “Dad,
those all come from the same animal!”
“Yeah right,” Homer says. “A
wonderful, magical, animal.”
Something that combines so
much pork with fresh herbs all stuffed into a crispy baguette is, I have to
say, a pretty magical sandwich.
From: BBC News