Viet World Kitchen

Red Wine and Beef Stew in Claypot (A Franco-Viet Experiment)

Because of France’s occupation of Vietnam from 1883 to 1954, many people assume that Viet cooking is heavily influenced by French foodways. While there are a handful of old French cookbooks written in Vietnamese, pure French cooking was mostly for those who could afford the ingredients. 

As cultural survivalists, Vietnamese cooks wove French elements into their traditions, just like they did with other cultures that they came in contact with over the ages. That’s why Vietnamese food can confound as much as it delights. Beefy classics such as pho noodle soup and beef stew with tomato, lemongrass, and star anise are prime examples of fusion Vietnamese fare. There are so many Eastern and Western elements in those dishes that it's hard to simply call them Viet-Franco food.

On the other hand, Viet cooks can be inventive in replicating foreign culinary concepts, such as a beouf Bourguinon. That’s what I pondered as I set about making a red wine and beef stew, an cool weather dish that seemed fitting with the season. I typically rely on Julia Child’s master Zinfandel of Beef recipe from The Way to Cook when making a beef stew. This time around, I combined JC’s techniques with some borrowed from Jennifer McLagan’s new book, Odd Bits: How to Cook the Rest of the Animal. While there are a number of Asian-inspired recipes, most of McLagan’s recipes are western in nature. The point of the book is to encourage cooks to look beyond the usual “middle cuts,” such as beef and pork tenderloin, to discover the delicious appeal of ears, tongues, feet, and tails.

Asian cooks don’t have much issue with this concept as evidenced by the tripe and chicken feet at dim sum! Nevertheless it's good to be reminded of their exceptional flavor and textures. Asian markets have a wealth of odd bits but how often do we buy them nowadays? Not as much as our parents and grandparents used to as they practiced a head-to-tail approach to eating.

McLagan’s classic beef stew recipe was unfussy, called for igniting the red wine (pyrotechnic cooking always intrigues me), and baking the stew. She used rounds of beef shank. I had this frozen chuck roast from my annual share of a grass-fed cow:

As I was reviewing the recipes by Child and McLagan, I thought: How would I make this dish if I lived in Vietnam during the French colonial period? What if I had to cook for or with a French person during that era?

Trout Simmered with Orange Peel and Caramel Sauce (Ca Kho Cam)

In Vietnam, fish simmered in caramel sauce is everyday soul food. The dark, bittersweet, savory fish is a great with rice. Depending on the cook and her/his resources, such a fish kho ("kaw") can be super intensely flavored and salty so as to get people to eat more rice than fish.

You can simmer most any kind of fish, big or small. On my last visit to my folks, my mom and dad served us a trout kho with strips of orange peel. It was full of citrus fragrance and not at all bitter, given the fact that the white pith is kept as part of the mix.

My husband liked it so much he suggested we make it when we got home. Our neighbor has a tangelo tree so I used one of the fruits. But you can feature orange like my folks. If you use store bought fruit, do try to buy an organic one or remember to scrub the wax of the fruit before using it.

If you have caramel sauce in your pantry, this is a great way to fix trout, which by the way, is among the good sustainable fish to consume in the United States. Caramel sauce is a stealth Vietnamese staple that's something worth having on hand.

Vietnamese Caramel Sauce Recipe (Nuoc Mau)

If you're going to delve deeply into cooking Vietnamese food, get over your fear of heat and make some caramel sauce! It's not as difficult as you may think. Just get some sugar, water and a saucepan. Once you've mastered it, it will quickly become your stealth ingredient. All you're doing is nearly burning sugar.

Caramel sauce (nuoc mau, pronounced "nook mao") is one of the cornerstones of Vietnamese cooking. It's primarily used in kho dishes to simmer savory foods such as whole fish, pork, shrimp, chicken, eggs and tofu -- homey foods that are the soul of Vietnamese cooking. The color and flavor of caramel sauce are transformative, making food not only look beautifully amber but also delectable.

The term nuoc mau was originally coined in South Vietnam. People in North Vietnam called the same ingredient nuoc hang ("nook hahng"), literally translated as 'merchandising water', probably because it was so often used by food hawkers to enhance the appearance of their wares. Think of how molasses add to the flavor of barbecued foods.

The traditional method of making this sauce requires you to add boiling water to the caramelized sugar, which starts a dramatic reaction that's not for the faint of heart. The point of doing this is to arrest the cooking process so that the sugar doesn't burn to a bitter black stage. I find it easier to place the pan bottom into a sink filled with water and then adding the remaining water to dilute the sugar. The result of both approaches is the same bittersweet inky sauce that's a staple in every Vietnamese kitchen.

Use caramel sauce for Viet kho dishes, or as a little cheat in your marinades for foods that will go on the grill so that they color nicely. Don't put it on ice cream or other desserts. Its sweet, dark coffee flavor will taste yucky bad. Finally, select a light-colored saucepan to monitor the caramelization, and make sure it's clean.

Resist buying the heinous tasting pre-fab caramel sauce at the Vietnamese market that's labeled "coconut thin sauce".  You're better off doing it yourself! The photos below are for encouragement.

Makes 1 cup

1 cup sugar
¼ cup plus ½ cup water

Fill the sink with enough water to come halfway up the side of a 1-quart, heavy-bottomed saucepan. Place the sugar and 1/4 cup of the water into the saucepan and cook over medium-low heat. Stir until the sugar dissolves, about 2 to 3 minutes.

As the sugar melts, the mixture will go from opaque to clear. Small bubbles will form at the edge and gradually grow larger, moving toward the center of the pan. Eventually, bubbles will cover the entire surface. After about 15 minutes, the sugar will begin to caramelize and turn in color. You'll see a progression from cham pagne yellow to light tea to dark tea.

When smoke starts rising, remove the saucepan from the heat and slowly swirl it around. Watch the sugar closely as it will turn darker by the second; a reddish cast will set in (think the color of a big and bold red wine) as the bubbles become a lovely burnt orange. Pay attention to the color of the caramel underneath the bubbles. When the caramel color is that of black coffee or molasses, place the pan in the sink to stop the cooking process. The hot pan bottom will sizzle upon contact and the bubble action will subside.

Add the remaining 1/2 cup of water (there may be a small dramatic reaction) and place t he saucepan back on the stove over medium heat, stirring until the caramel has dissolved into the water. The result will be slightly viscous; flavor-wise, it will be bittersweet. Pour the caramel sauce into a small glass jar and let it cool; it will thicken further. Store indefinitely in your kitchen cupboard.

Recipe from: Into the Vietnamese Kitchen: Treasured Foodways, Modern Flavors (Ten Speed Press, 2006) by Andrea Nguyen.

Related recipe:

• Trout Simmered with Orange Peel and Caramel Sauce