Viet World Kitchen

Banh Mi Mayonnaise Recipe for Burgers?

Last week on the Viet World Kitchen Facebook page, Jeff Brennan challenged me to create a mayonnaise that contained the flavors of Vietnamese banh mi sandwich. It should be good enough to use for a grilled burger, he wrote. I keep a running list of recipe requests and get to them as my schedule permits. Scott’s seemed doable and quick. Plus, I had some grass-fed hamburger leftover in the fridge. So I tackled the Vietnamese-American burger over the weekend.

Best Banh Mi in America? Is Cheap Banh Mi Good?

 
I’m sure you have an answer for those questions! Yesterday, Jordan Michelman’s blog post on the New York Times magazine site, declared that the best banh mi sandwich was in Seattle at Saigon Deli in the very Asian ID (International District). Along with that one, he also gave shout outs to these banh mi hotspots in the nation:

• Seattle: Saigon Deli (1237 South Jackson Street), Sun Bakery & Cafe (658 South Jackson Street)
• Portland: Best Baguette (8303 SE Powell Boulevard)
• New York: Baoguette (61 Lexington Ave, multiple Manhattan locations), Momofuku Ssäm Bar (207 Second Ave, Manhattan), Ba Xuyen (4222 Eighth Avenue, Brooklyn), Tan Thanh (5818 Seventh Avenue, Brooklyn)
• New Orleans: Dong Phuong Oriental Bakery (14207 Chef Menteur Highway)
• Atlanta: Lee’s Bakery (4005 Buford Highway NE), Quoc Huong (5150 Buford Highway NE)
• San Jose: Lee’s Sandwiches (260 East Santa Clara Street)
• Los Angeles: Nom Nom Truck
• San Francisco: Saigon Sandwich (560 Larkin Street)

Do note that on HuffingtonPost.com, the drunken chicken banh mi from Seattle’s Baguette Box was given the #8 spot for the  top 10 best new sandwiches in the United States. We all have opinions like we all have belly buttons, right?

Does banh mi have to be cheap food?
There were many things that stood out to me in Michelman’s story, but one popped the most. It’s something that grates on me because I hear it so much when Asian and non-Asian people talk about Asian food: Good Asian food has to be cheap Asian food. Michelman echoed that sentiment in this sentence:

While these sandwiches, usually found in bakeries and delis in Vietnamese neighborhoods, are endlessly customizable, they should always be inexpensive — beware the banh mi over $6.

St. Paul Sandwich Recipe (Egg Foo Yung Sandwich)

Last week, I made a St. Paul sandwich featuring egg foo yung. I'd never heard of the sandwich until I read about the Denver (Western) omelet or sandwich while trying to understand 1970s egg foo yung.

I used a ciabatta type of Italian bread for my first take on the sandwich. The result was good but the rustic chewiness of the bread eclipsed the egg pancakes.

This time, I used old fashioned white bread from Whole Foods. My local grocery store didn’t carry Wonder bread, which would be perfect as its soft sweetness recalls that of white rice, the natural accompaniment to egg foo yung. The white bread I used had more character. It is probably more akin to the original version made by Chinese American cooks to appease the hunger of demanding workers. 

Here’s a recipe for the multicultural St. Paul sandwich:

Makes 1 sandwich

2 slices white sandwich bread
Whole egg mayonnaise, purchased or homemade
Sliced tomato
Sliced dill pickle
2 Egg Foo Yung pancakes, at room temperature or warmed in microwave oven
1 butter lettuce leaf

1. Lightly toast the bread so that it has a tinge of color but remains soft. In the photo above, I mistakenly over toasted the bread and it was too crisp.

2. Slather on the mayonnaise. Layer on the tomato, pickle, and egg foo yung. Finish with the lettuce. Top with the remaining slice of bread. Cut in half, if you like, or attack the whole sandwich at once.

Note

Use the master banh mi sandwich recipe to make an egg foo yung  banh mi. Or, convert the above St. Paul into a banh mi by adding a shot of Maggi seasoning sauce (or regular soy sauce) after putting on the mayonnaise. Then sprinkle on coarsely chopped cilantro. Add some thinly sliced jalapeno chiles and a layer of dill pickle or cucumber slices.

Add the egg foo yung and cover with the other slice of bread. You’re missing the pickled daikon and carrot in the converted version but the sandwich still tastes good. It has the Viet touches.

For the low down on this sandwich, read: Eating Asian in the 1970s: Egg Foo Yung, Omelet Sandwiches, and James Beard

Master Banh Mi Sandwich Recipe

I've posted several times about Vietnamese banh mi but realized that I'd never presented a full-fledged, master recipe,  nor have I provided some history about the popular Vietnamese snack.  First off, a bit about sandwiches themselves. Thank heavens for John Montagu (1718-1792), 4th Earl of Sandwich, who habitually sent for cold meat in between two slices of bread so that he wouldn't have to break away from the gambling tables to eat. Little did he know how he'd impact global eating practices, let alone that of a small country like Vietnam!

There is essentially one sandwich in Vietnamese cooking and it is quite a tour de force. It started out very simply, with baguette smeared with liver pate and that was it. That's how my mom knew it in the 1940s when she was growing up in Northern Vietnam. What we know today as banh mi is a light, crispy small baguette that is split and hollowed before it is invariably filled with homemade mayonnaise or butter (which I don't like), sliced chili pepper, cilantro leaves, cucumber, a tangy-sweet daikon and carrot pickle (do chua), and a drizzle of soy sauce. The variation comes in when you choose what protein component(s) will be center stage. The classic version, banh mi thit nguoi—referred to as the "special" (dac biet) at Vietnamese delis, includes a smearing of housemade liver pâté and thin slices of various Vietnamese cold cuts. Other filling options include, but are not limited to, roasted chicken, grilled pork, crunchy julienned pork skin (bì), Chinese char siu pork, and tofu. This delicious, fanciful version was popularized by Southern Vietnamese, particularly those in Saigon, and is what we know abroad today and in most of Vietnam too.

In the early 1980s, these sandwiches occupied the food craze spotlight in the Vietnamese-American community. A sandwich war of sorts ensued in Little Saigon, California, where entrepreneurial deli owners posted banners advertising low prices ($1 or $1.25) and special offers like "Buy 2 Get 1 Free". Word spread about who had the best deal and best product. There were light-hearted squabbles over which deli should have your loyalty. Our family, like other folks who can't resist a good bargain, bought a dozen sandwiches at a time—veggies on the side so that the bread wouldn't get soggy on the way home. After eating and analyzing a fair number of so-so sandwiches (you eventually get what you pay for), we started making them ourselves—the genesis of this banh mi recipe.

Daikon and Carrot Pickle Recipe (Do Chua)

“Dilly the Pickle” emailed last week to announce that the 2009 International Pickle Week goes from May 15 to 25 (pickleweek.com). That' s more like 11/2 weeks, but I didn't care because I’m a sucker for cute cartoon icons and pickles of any kind, so I looked in the fridge for my go-to Vietnamese pickle – do chua made of tangy sweet daikon and carrot. This ubiquitous Vietnamese pickle is what’s stuffed into banh mi sandwiches, served alongside morsels such as grilled beef in wild betel leaf (thit bo la lot), and added to salads.

Sadly, my jar of daikon and carrot pickle was mostly brine and a few floating white and orange sticks of vegetables. Oye, what kind of respectable Vietnamese cook was I? It’s not so much that it is national pickle week, but rather that pickles play an important role at the Vietnamese table. They provide textural and flavor contrasts to food. For example, the flavor of rich foods gets cut (mitigated) by a tart-sweet pickle. At Tet Lunar New Year celebrations, you always see several kinds of pickles on the menu as that’s a holiday where lots of fatty dishes are served. In banh mi sandwiches, the daikon and carrot offer a crunch that pairs well with the baguette and the tartness offsets the savory rich meats and mayonnaise. But Vietnamese cooks, like their Asian brethren, prefer to make what I call fast pickles.