59 recipes. Page 1 of 3
As an Amazon Associate, we may earn from qualifying purchases.
Little dishes of rice flour and tapioca batter go into the steamer and come out as soft discs, translucent at the rim and opaque white in the middle. This snack from Hue in central Vietnam is topped with dry, crumbly shrimp, toasted in a dry pan until every bit of moisture is gone; any left behind turns soggy on the cake.
In Vietnam this is what people eat for breakfast or when they are feeling unwell, much the way Koreans turn to dakjuk. The broth carries a quiet heat from sliced ginger, and the seasoning is fish sauce rather than soy.
There is no sauce in this curry: minced pork is fried with spice paste until it breaks into dry, separate crumbles. The aroma and heat of this shortcut version differ from the original because it uses commercial Thai red curry paste in place of the southern Thai paste, which has its own mix including turmeric and pepper. The pork should end up with no liquid left at the bottom but not crisp like a snack. Finely shredded makrut lime leaves add a citrus lift against the spice.
La lot leaves, sold as wild betel, wrap seasoned ground beef and char at the edges while the meat's fat soaks into them, giving each roll a peppery, herbal smell. They are not the betel leaves sold for chewing, so look for the la lot or wild betel label.
Beef shank marinated in fish sauce and garlic simmers for one to two hours with lemongrass and tomato paste, until the meat pulls apart and the broth turns red and lightly thick. It is often traced to southern Saigon kitchens where long French braising met Vietnamese aromatics, and street vendors in Ho Chi Minh City sell it from early morning. Some spoon it over rice; others dip a baguette.
Halved onion and ginger, charred black in a dry pan, lose their raw bite and lend a caramel sweetness to an otherwise clear broth. Thin slices of Korean chadolbaegi brisket go into the bowl raw and cook only from the boiling broth poured over them, staying soft and juicy. The thinner the slices, the better that brief heat reaches the middle. The marbled brisket fat adds more body than standard pho, landing somewhere between Korean gomtang and Vietnamese pho. Bean sprouts, cilantro, and lime on the side let each person tune aroma and acidity, with the cilantro added just before eating so its scent stays fresh.
Shredded chicken breast and cabbage cut thinner than 2mm are tossed in a sweet-sour dressing of fish sauce, lime juice and sugar. The thick cabbage core is cut out before slicing because it stays tough in the salad. Fish sauce brings salt and savoriness to the lean chicken, lime brings sharpness, and raw cabbage and carrot do the crunching. Poached chicken needs to cool completely before it is pulled apart along the grain. Shredding it hot squeezes out the juices and leaves it dry. Cilantro and roasted peanuts scattered over the top add fragrance and a nutty crunch.
A thin rice batter is spread paper-thin over a cloth set above boiling water, steamed until translucent, then rolled around ground pork with chopped wood ear mushroom. These Hanoi wrappers are far softer and more delicate than wheat ones, so pulling on a sheet while lifting or rolling tears it at once.
Com tam means broken rice: grains that cracked during milling and were once thrown away as unsellable. Today it is the base of a classic Ho Chi Minh City breakfast, and its small pieces take up the meat's marinade well. Instead of a bone-in chop over charcoal, this version uses thin slices of pork shoulder marinated with lemongrass and seared in a pan.
Coconut milk and palm sugar in the marinade caramelize on the grill, giving the pork neck dark, sticky edges. The meat is sliced thin and folded three times onto each skewer, with small gaps between the pieces letting heat reach the thickest fold quickly.
The Thai name translates roughly as bland soup, and next to spicy dishes like som tam or tom yum that is exactly its job: a gentle, clear broth that gives the palate a rest. It is still seasoned, with fish sauce, and the pork meatballs carry nothing but white pepper so the meat tastes like itself. Silken tofu, napa cabbage, and glass noodles fill out the bowl.
Hold the lime and fish sauce dressing until the bowl is about to be eaten; once it hits the rice noodles, they start to go soft. The beef is sliced thin against the grain and needs a pan that is already very hot, with room for the slices to lie in a single layer. Crowded slices give off water, so cook in batches and pull each one as soon as the edges brown and no raw red surface is left. Rinse the boiled noodles hard under cold water to wash off the surface starch, and lay the lettuce and cold noodles in the bowl before the warm beef goes on so the greens do not wilt.
Thin slices of lotus stem stay crunchy, while shrimp split lengthwise open up a wider surface for the fish sauce dressing to soak into. The vinegar soak at the start removes the astringent aftertaste of the stem; skip it and no amount of dressing hides it. Leave the stems in much past 10 minutes, though, and their own aroma fades as well. Salty, sour and sweet hit together, with cilantro on top, in the style of a Vietnamese goi salad. Resting the tossed salad for 5 minutes or more lets the dressing reach into the shredded carrot and the shrimp.
Crisp at the edges and custard-soft in the middle, these small cup-shaped pancakes come from Vung Tau on Vietnam's southern coast. Coconut milk in the rice batter adds a gentle richness, and shrimp and scallion placed on top cook with the batter before it sets. They are wrapped in lettuce or herbs and dipped in a fish sauce and sugar mix.
Regular khao man gai tops the rice with poached chicken; this version swaps in chicken thighs seasoned with soy and fish sauce, dredged lightly in flour, and fried skin side first to a deep gold. The rice cooks with garlic and ginger, giving it more aroma than plain steamed rice to stand up to the fried chicken. Excess flour is shaken off before frying, since a heavy coat tends to slip away in the oil. Sliced chicken goes over the rice with a sauce on the side.
White fish is blended smooth with coconut milk, egg white and red curry paste, spread in a thin strip on banana leaves, folded up and grilled on both sides. While the leaf edges char, the paste inside sets like a firm custard and takes on a faint smokiness. In Malaysia and Singapore it is eaten with rice or as a snack on its own.
Filipino families often make this on rainy days and ladle the broth over rice. The sourness comes from tamarind paste, and if it tastes too mild, another tablespoon goes in. Tomato and onion, added in big pieces, melt into the broth over 30 minutes of simmering.
At midday the alleys of Hanoi's Old Quarter fill with smoke from pork grilling over charcoal, and the grilled meat goes into a bowl of sweet, sour fish sauce, eaten with rice vermicelli and herbs. That sauce is thinner than a dip, closer to a light broth sipped between bites. This version grills both small ground-pork patties and pieces of pork neck, and soaks thin slices of carrot in the sauce.
Larb comes from Isan in northeastern Thailand: minced chicken dressed with lime juice and fish sauce, heaped with sliced shallot and mint. Toasted rice powder is what sets it apart, soaking up the meat juices while adding a nutty aroma and a faint crunch. It is eaten warm or at room temperature, scooped into lettuce or cabbage leaves alongside sticky rice.
This dish takes its name from a train line between Manila and the Bicol region in southeastern Luzon, where coconut and chilies go into cooking more freely than almost anywhere else in the Philippines. Pork belly simmers in coconut milk with shrimp paste and chilies until the coconut fat separates and the meat starts frying in it. By the end there is almost no loose sauce, just a creamy coating on every piece.
Fish sauce and oyster sauce do all the seasoning, which gives the rice a briny savoriness quite unlike a soy-based fried rice. Shrimp, egg, and onion are about all that goes in, and in Thailand the shrimp is often swapped for chicken or crab, or dropped so the egg carries the dish alone.
Instead of the offal and many garnishes found in fuller versions of this Jakarta soup, this home recipe makes its beef broth from brisket, coconut milk and a ground paste of onion, garlic and ginger cooked in oil. The milky color comes from the coconut milk added at the end, with no need to wait for a cloudy stock. Brisket is the slow part, and a cooked-looking surface says little; a fork should slide easily into the center. Rice is served on the side.
Soft crab balls rise through a red, tomato-sour broth in this Vietnamese noodle soup. In northern Vietnam the traditional version pounds whole paddy crabs and strains the liquid, which sets into a custard-like layer as it heats, while this recipe mixes crabmeat, ground pork and egg into a sticky paste instead. Everything rides on the balls holding together: the paste goes by the spoonful into broth that is barely moving and stays unstirred until the pieces firm up. Shrimp paste goes in a little at a time because it is strongly salty.
Toasted rice powder, khao khua, is what turns seasoned ground chicken into larb. Rice browned in a dry pan and ground coarse gives the salad a nutty, faintly smoky grain flavor that nothing else copies. The dish comes from the Isan region of Thailand, where it is seasoned hard with fish sauce and lime and eaten scooped into lettuce leaves. Because the chicken cooks gently with a splash of water instead of oil, it stays soft and moist rather than browned and dry.