Monday, March 30, 2009

If Vietnam and France had a baby...

Wait a minute. No one ever told me (not until last week, actually) that Vietnam and France -- arguably my two favorite countries of culinary origin -- got together and birthed their own cuisine, a street food named bánh mì! Look for it in Atlanta at Quoc Huong, 5150 Buford Hwy. NE, Doraville, in the quite-crowded Asian Square.

Mind, consider yourself officially blown.

I won't go into why two seemingly polar opposite countries - a proud, Western European nation and an equally proud, war-torn Asian nation - had a gastronomical baby, but I'm grateful they did. Instead, I'll explain what makes each cuisine so distinct and wonderful.

Words that make me think of French food: Rich, heavy, cream, classic, wine, butter, cheese, thick, flaky, pastry, indulgent... Outside of creme brulee', French fries and escargot, think of mealy, crispy, thin potatoes fried in duck fat, medium-rare steaks drizzled with a transparent, light buerre blanc (butter sauce) and chives, and tiny pots of luxurious chicken liver pate' topped with a contrastingly sharp, tangy apple jelly. Think of my favorite dessert, chocolate mousse, and all of the beauty in the masterful manipulation of its three simple ingredients: cream, the best melted chocolate and eggs.

I'd describe Vietnamese food with words such as fresh, light, vegetables, basil, pickled, cilantro, fish sauce, noodles, rice paper, quick, charcoal, spring, satisfying, varied... So many separate, contrasting flavors can be found in one dish. My favorite dish, bún chả, has crisp, cool lettuce, cilantro, julienned carrots and cucumber underneath room-temperature vermicelli noodles, charcoal-cooked pork tenderloin, tiny, crispy fried onions and chopped peanuts, with spicy, sweet fish sauce to pour over all. Each forkful produces a slightly different flavor.

Then there's the Vietnamese-French lovechild, bánh mì, a rice-and-wheat flour baguette sandwich filled with pickled vegetables, jalapenos, and that charcoal-cooked, thinly sliced pork tenderloin. The sauce is pate' and mayonnaise, or pate' and bright yellow butter, with a choice of additional sauces, ranging from kinda-spicy to melt-your-face-off, to pour over. The combination and juxtaposition of the two culinary worlds is divine and everything you could hope for: Light and heavy, fresh and rich, sharp and luxurious, herbs and meat, summer and winter.

Since the baguette is made with rice flour and wheat flour, it's lighter than most. In other words, it won't bog down the flavors of the sandwich, this delightful street food, and, ahem, it also won't cut the roof of your mouth. (One of my college roommates seriously injured herself on a French baguette once in a certain well-known sandwich and soup place. No, seriously, the upper piece of that hard bread went in between her gum and tooth... it was not pretty.)

And did I mention the sandwich is only $2.00? Yes, you read that right - two small bucks for one amazing 8" piece o'heaven. So you should go... and witness the birth of what might be the world's most perfect food! That reminds me, it's lunch time...

Friday, March 27, 2009

It's not dirty; it's delicious!

Okay, this is my first blog entry here, and it should be duly noted that this food inspired me to write a blog at all. If that isn't divine inspiration, I don't know what is.

Speaking of divine, I can't stop eating these Forget-About-'Em cookies, or Easter Cookies, which is what I will henceforth refer to as "Lovely Little Puffs of Marshmallow Heaven." Forget that the primary ingredient is egg whites and you bake them, for these ain't yo' mama's rock-hard meringue cookies. These are edible clouds. As soon as you pop one into your mouth, the rest of the pan is as good as done for.

Think of the texture of a marshmallow, with the flavor of divinity and a slight outside crispiness.

This is my adaptation of a recipe that was originally found on my favorite recipe blog, Simply Recipes. The idea of Easter Cookies is that in some variation of the Catholic faith - Greek Orthodox or something - the cookies are made to teach children about what Easter's all about. They have a story, which I won't go into. Anyway, kids make them the night before Easter, put them in the oven, turn the oven off, and wake up to delicious, gooey goodness on Easter morning. For the same reason, they're called "Forget-About-'Em Cookies;" you put them in the oven, turn the oven off, and forgetaboutit, if you're channeling the Sopranos.

Me? I'm channeling the "I-Want-Them-Now" gods, and waiting overnight just wasn't going to work, so I shortened the process. Here's what you should know about me - I'm selfish, and I like to eat --- like, now. :) I made the batch in my KitchenAid mixer (wonderful, wonderful tool) at 3:45, put them in the oven for 10-15 minutes, and at 4:15 p.m., half of the pan is gone, I'm blogging and the mouse is sticky. Don't let your mind wander on the latter statement... it's just sugar, y'all.

Ahem. So here's my quick version of Forget-About-'Ems, because if you do happen to forget these are in your kitchen, I'll find you and eat them all:

Quick! Forget-About-'Ems!

Ingredients:
- Pinch salt
- 3 egg whites
- 1 teaspoon white vinegar (but today I used white wine vinegar and it was cool)
- 1 cup sugar
- 1 teaspoon vanilla
- 1 cup chopped pecans, or mini-chocolate chip morsels, or chopped toffee candy, or whatever floats your marshmallow boat

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Spread chopped pecans on a baking sheet in a single layer and bake for five minutes.

While those are baking, place the pinch of salt in the bottom of your KitchenAid mixer bowl. Add egg whites, and turn the mixer on pretty high, like a 6 or 8 setting. When bubbles start to form, add a teaspoon of white vinegar. The little cap is a good measure (as long as it's little). When the egg whites really start to foam up, gradually add the cup of sugar and the vanilla. Continue to beat (or rather, let the KitchenAid mixer beat - let's face it; you're not doing much at this point besides anticipating yumminess) until stiff peaks form. You'll know stiff peaks have formed when you take the whisk attachment off and the egg whites stand up on the end of it.

Fold in the toasted chopped pecans with a plastic spatula. Drop lethargically on a baking sheet lined with a silicone mat or two layers of parchment (not wax! It will smoke!) paper.

Place sheet pan in the oven and turn the oven off. After 10 minutes, turn the oven back on to 300. Let the cookies bake for two minutes at 300 degrees, then turn it back off and wait for five minutes. Let cool... or don't. They're so, so good either way.