Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the food in Thailand. I loved it. But I hardly put down my chopsticks since landing in Vietnam. It's all just so good and fresh, and I did miss bread in Thailand where's it not especially common.
Shortly after arriving in Ho Chi Minh City, I saw signs for "pho" everywhere. The hot broth was full of flavor, and I see why it's so popular.
Pho may be Vietnam's best known dish, but I just couldn't stop eating banh mi, a sandwich (typically pork) on a baguette. There are different variations and many were standouts. One was in Qui Nhon, from a little sidewalk stall that put it together right in front of you, then tossed it on a charcoal grill to lightly toast it. I took a bite and immediately ordered a second. It came wrapped in some math homework. Forty-five cents each.
As good as I thought the baguette bread was, three French travellers informed me it's actually quite terrible compared to what they get at home.
Also in Qui Nhon was a restaurant I spotted that had a few locals having lunch at--always a good sign. No English on the menu so I pointed at something that looked fresh and tasty, and it WAS. The staff was enthused with a TV showing The Three Stooges and bloopers videos.
In Dalat, a bakery gave me shelter from a downpour as well as way too many treats for $2. Also in Dalat, I went to a spot that was supposed to serve up some good broken rice. I stepped through a screen of charcoal smoke to find a good crowd. The owner waved me to an open seat in the back. "Menu?" I asked. "No menu!" he replied, and pointed at what my neighbor was having. I said "ok," and that's what I was served. Broken rice with pork chops from the grill I had walked by out front.
I dove in, and the owner brought over a Dalat tour book and pointed to a page recommending this very spot as the place to try this dish. "Number 1," he said and hand signaled.
A group of four sat down near me and we started chatting. They were semanarians, in Dalat for an ordination mass. We finished eating and agreed to cross the street for a coffee. On the way out the owner says "Number one!" again. I reply, "number one!" It's the one time I've had the dish, but I'd be content to call it the best in town.
One art museum in Bangkok was a bit of a let down. I'd say this bistro in Ho Chi Minh City served up better art than that museum did.
Mango cake involves no mango but is named from it's shape. It's a soft rice dough filled with peanuts and sugar.
Cao lau is unique to Hoi An. There are old rules about the water coming from a specific well or the noodles being made by one family, but nearly any restaurant will sell it. A family of Vietnamese tourists sat down next to me, showed me what sauces to add, and complemented my chop sticks skills as "very good." I think that's a bit generous, but interestingly many Vietnamese grow up without learning how to eat with them.
In Hanoi I walked by a shop just full of ladies cutting up cilantro, dill, and green onions, and it smelled wonderful. A few doors down was a restaurant where you could order anything, as long as it's cha ca. Hanoians say that "one must try this dish before leaving this world." There's a hot plate on each table, and they bring out some lightly fried fish and a huge bowl of greens (no doubt from a few doors down). Also little bowls of: fish sauce, peanuts, lots of rice noodles, and mint. They cook the greens and fish up and leave you to mix a little bit of everything into one little bowl. Awesome meal.
I'm all for trying new things but there were a few dishes in particular I passed on, specifically "rat" and the generic "bird."
Fast forward to Battambang, Cambodia. My trusty tuk tuk driver pulled over to a roadside stand outside of town selling grilled rats. I insisted I wasn't interested again and again until we moved on. We made a pit stop at another stand where he ordered a rat for himself. I tried it...it tasted way better than it should have with a very good lemon pepper sauce.
Cambodia typically isn't known for its cuisine, though lok lak is one traditional dish I ate a lot of. Just simple beef over rice with a fried egg on top, but a fresh lime and pepper sauce on the side are what really make it.
The other main Khmer dish is fish amok, which I ate for my last three dinners in Cambodia because it was so perfectly flavored and served up in a banana leaf.
I never indulged, but this hostel was really trying to cater to everyone.
Lao food isn't talked about much, but I've had some good stuff so far. They say Laos has the world's highest per capita sticky rice consumption, and I plan on doing my part. Served in bamboo baskets, it's squeezed into small serving size balls and eaten by hand with whatever else you're having.
It would hardly be street food if it wasn't eaten at short tables on the sidewalk with little plastic stools--straight from the kindergarten art table. On a single night in Hoi An, Vietnam, I saw no less than three grown tourists fall off and/or break a plastic stool. The fall is short and the food is good, so it's worth the risk if you ask me.
The night market in Phnom Penh did things a little different. Food stalls surrounded a spread of grass mats on the ground--order, then take a seat to enjoy.
The well-traveled backpacker "route" covering Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam has been called the Banana Pancake Trail, supposedly named because of restaurants catering to travellers by serving up western food. Some street vendors and guesthouses continue that tradition in various styles.
Sometimes you don't even have to step inside a place to know it's authentic and "very good."
Shortly after arriving in Ho Chi Minh City, I saw signs for "pho" everywhere. The hot broth was full of flavor, and I see why it's so popular.
Pho may be Vietnam's best known dish, but I just couldn't stop eating banh mi, a sandwich (typically pork) on a baguette. There are different variations and many were standouts. One was in Qui Nhon, from a little sidewalk stall that put it together right in front of you, then tossed it on a charcoal grill to lightly toast it. I took a bite and immediately ordered a second. It came wrapped in some math homework. Forty-five cents each.
Also in Qui Nhon was a restaurant I spotted that had a few locals having lunch at--always a good sign. No English on the menu so I pointed at something that looked fresh and tasty, and it WAS. The staff was enthused with a TV showing The Three Stooges and bloopers videos.
In Dalat, a bakery gave me shelter from a downpour as well as way too many treats for $2. Also in Dalat, I went to a spot that was supposed to serve up some good broken rice. I stepped through a screen of charcoal smoke to find a good crowd. The owner waved me to an open seat in the back. "Menu?" I asked. "No menu!" he replied, and pointed at what my neighbor was having. I said "ok," and that's what I was served. Broken rice with pork chops from the grill I had walked by out front.
I dove in, and the owner brought over a Dalat tour book and pointed to a page recommending this very spot as the place to try this dish. "Number 1," he said and hand signaled.
A group of four sat down near me and we started chatting. They were semanarians, in Dalat for an ordination mass. We finished eating and agreed to cross the street for a coffee. On the way out the owner says "Number one!" again. I reply, "number one!" It's the one time I've had the dish, but I'd be content to call it the best in town.
One art museum in Bangkok was a bit of a let down. I'd say this bistro in Ho Chi Minh City served up better art than that museum did.
Mango cake involves no mango but is named from it's shape. It's a soft rice dough filled with peanuts and sugar.
Cao lau is unique to Hoi An. There are old rules about the water coming from a specific well or the noodles being made by one family, but nearly any restaurant will sell it. A family of Vietnamese tourists sat down next to me, showed me what sauces to add, and complemented my chop sticks skills as "very good." I think that's a bit generous, but interestingly many Vietnamese grow up without learning how to eat with them.
In Hanoi I walked by a shop just full of ladies cutting up cilantro, dill, and green onions, and it smelled wonderful. A few doors down was a restaurant where you could order anything, as long as it's cha ca. Hanoians say that "one must try this dish before leaving this world." There's a hot plate on each table, and they bring out some lightly fried fish and a huge bowl of greens (no doubt from a few doors down). Also little bowls of: fish sauce, peanuts, lots of rice noodles, and mint. They cook the greens and fish up and leave you to mix a little bit of everything into one little bowl. Awesome meal.
Fast forward to Battambang, Cambodia. My trusty tuk tuk driver pulled over to a roadside stand outside of town selling grilled rats. I insisted I wasn't interested again and again until we moved on. We made a pit stop at another stand where he ordered a rat for himself. I tried it...it tasted way better than it should have with a very good lemon pepper sauce.
Cambodia typically isn't known for its cuisine, though lok lak is one traditional dish I ate a lot of. Just simple beef over rice with a fried egg on top, but a fresh lime and pepper sauce on the side are what really make it.
The other main Khmer dish is fish amok, which I ate for my last three dinners in Cambodia because it was so perfectly flavored and served up in a banana leaf.
I never indulged, but this hostel was really trying to cater to everyone.
Lao food isn't talked about much, but I've had some good stuff so far. They say Laos has the world's highest per capita sticky rice consumption, and I plan on doing my part. Served in bamboo baskets, it's squeezed into small serving size balls and eaten by hand with whatever else you're having.
It would hardly be street food if it wasn't eaten at short tables on the sidewalk with little plastic stools--straight from the kindergarten art table. On a single night in Hoi An, Vietnam, I saw no less than three grown tourists fall off and/or break a plastic stool. The fall is short and the food is good, so it's worth the risk if you ask me.
The night market in Phnom Penh did things a little different. Food stalls surrounded a spread of grass mats on the ground--order, then take a seat to enjoy.
The well-traveled backpacker "route" covering Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam has been called the Banana Pancake Trail, supposedly named because of restaurants catering to travellers by serving up western food. Some street vendors and guesthouses continue that tradition in various styles.
Sometimes you don't even have to step inside a place to know it's authentic and "very good."
