Follow Those Noodles!

In Vietnamese cities one must be alert to the existence of hidden culinary delights - dishes cooked in kitchens and served from stalls all but invisible to the untrained eye.

Working Saigon's Tan Dinh market one recent morning, we're made aware of the existence of one such enterprise when a tray-bearing woman emerges from behind the vegetable stall Dave is photographing. We eye the bowl of orange-tinted soup noodles balanced on her shoulder, and then crane our necks to peer behind the stall.

Sure enough, people are eating back there.

Stepping past the vegetable seller we find a family presiding over a splendid table. Today is the fifteenth (or the first, we're not sure which) of the lunar month, days on which many Buddhists abstain from meat. We're told by a regular customer that the fare served here usually includes pho and bun bo (rice noodle soup with beef), but today every dish is vegetarian. Scanning the groaning board we take in turmeric-tinted rice mixed with carrots and mushrooms and topped with roasted peanuts and cilantro; orange-sauced macaroni mixed with chopped fresh herbs and sliced tofu; plump fried spring rolls; crispy-skinned fried tofu served with chili-soy dip; assorted pickles; rice vermicelli in a clear broth packed with vegetables.

As dad serves seated customers and his daughter collects money and tends to take-away orders mom, perched on a low stool at one end of the table, piles basil leaves, cooked bun (rice vermicelli), pickled radish, lettuce, and tofu onto rice wrappers and rolls the lot into neat translucent logs.

We opt for a couple of these, as well as a bowl of the sunset-hued noodle soup that led us here. After telling ourselves that the stall's low-to-the-ground stools with seats the size of a dinner napkin cannot possibly accomodate our American-sized posteriors, we take a deep breath and sit anyway.

Elbow-to-elbow with our fellow diners, we hang our heads over our bowls of mi kari (yellow noodles in a curry-flavored soup) and breathe in their fragrant steam, then pull our faces back to admire the casual beauty of the presentation (opening photo). The pumpkin-colored broth, with its yellow chunks of potato and tofu and mahogany sticks of gluten, crowned with vivid green rau ram (Vietnamese coriander) and basil, chopped red chilies, and a pinch of coarse salt present a tableau that a professional food stylist would have difficulty improving upon.

Meat is not missed. The thin but rich broth is Indian and Vietnamese all at once, ground chile and coriander and turmeric and cloves sweetened to the southern Vietnamese palate and tweaked with pungent fish sauce. Stirred under, herbs add the fresh lightness so characteristic of the country's cuisine. In our mouths the soft bun, chewy tofu, and crunchy lettuce of the rolls spar to delightful effect.

We finish every last drop, and the vendor is pleased. (We also garner a few thumbs-ups from customers at another table.) Following the example of others who've finished and departed before us, we extricate ourselves from our tight spots by remaining seated while pushing our stools backwards, then popping up once our knees are clear of both the stall's tabletop overhang and the shoulders of fellow diners.

As we're paying our miniscule bill a woman bearing a bowl of soup noodles crowned with a fat fillet of fish and accompanied by a plate heaped high with shredded banana flower and morning glory stems appears from the mouth of a narrow alley. We walk over and peer into the dimness.

Sure enough, people are eating back there. And from the looks of that bowl of noodles, they're eating very well indeed.

Tan Dinh market food stall - no address, no phone. Head for Tan Dinh market in the morning, cruise the street behind where the fish, vegetable, and noodle sellers are, and keep your eye out for women bearing trays of noodles.

Comments

[Pepy]

Goshhh againnnn, you made me drool

[ourman]

Great pictures. Makes me miss it even more.

[Nate]

What a great food find! Everything looks so mouth-watering. What a truly authentic food experience.

[Robyn]

Pepy - kinda made myself drool, writing up that post.

ourman - thanks. Been enjoying reading your thoughts on being back home. Look forward to more.

Hi Nate - these kinds of experiences are chocablock in Vietnam. You'd really need a couple of years of daily, multiple-meal eating....

[fountain16969]

"...and tweaked with pungent fish sauce"
I am sure as hell the thing you tasted wasn't fish sauce. "...days on which many Buddhists abstain from meat(=killing)" which simply means they don't eat any food made from living (moving) thing . And fish sauce is made from...fish, it is a no no..
I heard they can imitate the taste and smell of fish sauce without killing fish. That must be what you tasted.
you make me drool...
cheer.

[eastfeasting]

this type of journalism make nytimes food review a bit fake.
Hoooray!! Eatingasia strikes again.
awesome.

[Robyn]

Fountain - you are exactly right (oops). It should be 'tweaked with something that TASTED like fish sauce'. I don't what the vegetarian substitute is, but there was definately an essence of, well, fishiness.

eatingfeasting - that's pretty high praise. Thanks!