Meal Prep

When ground meat or meat paste is enhanced by other seasonings and cooked in an unusual manner, rather than just boiled, it is elevated to the realm of cha, a term used for fancier charcuterie. So if the name of a dish includes the word cha, expect to be seduced. Here, the meat paste receives a dose of cinnamon, which adds a deep spicy-sweet flavor without being cloying (much as it does to many savory Middle Eastern dishes). To accentuate the perfume and color that cinnamon lends to the paste, the mixture is traditionally spread onto a large section of bamboo and cooked on a spit over a wood fire. As the bamboo spins, a chewy skin forms and a heady aroma wafts through the air. When cut from the bamboo, the ready-to-eat sausage is curved like pieces of cinnamon bark. In the States, my mom tried substituting a large metal juice can for the bamboo and an electric rotisserie for the spit. If things weren’t just right, the paste slipped off the can and was ruined. The method here, which uses an inverted baking sheet, is much easier, although it doesn’t yield the characteristic curved shape. The taste, however, is splendid, especially when the sausage is made with strong, sweet Vietnamese cassia cinnamon.

A cornerstone of Vietnamese cooking, this smooth meat paste is the most important recipe in the charcuterie repertoire and forms the base of three sausages in this chapter. It is also used to make meatballs (page 86), acts as the binder for Stuffed Snails Steamed with Lemongrass (page 42), and may be shaped into dumplings similar to French quenelles and poached in a quick canh-style soup (page 61). This recipe, which calls for chicken rather than the traditional pork, is my mother’s modern American approach to gio. Chicken, a luxury meat in Vietnam that is affordable here, is easier to work with and yields a particularly delicately flavored and textured paste. Additionally, chicken breasts and thighs are readily available at supermarkets, while pork leg, the cut typically used, isn’t. A recipe for the pork paste appears in the Note that follows.

Rice that has been slowly toasted and then ground is mixed into smooth meat pastes for added texture and depth or sprinkled onto foods as a garnish. It can be purchased, usually packed in small plastic bags, but it is more fragrant and flavorful when freshly made. Some cooks like to grind the rice in an old-fashioned hand-cranked coffee or spice grinder. I prefer the speed of an electric coffee grinder that I reserve exclusively for grinding spices.

This is a cornerstone of Vietnamese cooking. The term nuoc mau was originally coined in southern Vietnam. Northerners know this same ingredient as nuoc hang (merchandising water), probably because it was so often used by food hawkers to enhance the appearance of their wares. Its ability to impart incredibly savory-sweet flavors is the key to simmering meats, seafood, eggs, and/or tofu for everyday kho dishes. Some cooks substitute brown sugar, but the results tend to be too sweet. The inky sauce also lends rich brown color to grilled meats, much as molasses does in American barbecue. Traditionally, the sauce is made by pouring boiling water into the caramelized sugar, a somewhat dangerous step that causes the mixture to bubble and spew dramatically. This method immediately arrests the cooking, so that the sugar doesn’t burn to a bitter black stage. I find it easier to place the pan in a sink partially filled with water, which cools the caramelized sugar, halting the cooking, and then add the water to dilute the sugar. The result with both approaches is the same bittersweet, inky sauce that is a staple in every Vietnamese kitchen.

When definitive heat is what you want in a dish, fresh chiles are what you add. But when you want to inject subtle spiciness and preserve the delicate nuances of a dish, this aromatic mixture is the solution. I grew up with this condiment on the family dinner table, where it sat in a small jar alongside dispensers of fish sauce, soy sauce, salt, and pepper. Its flavors are gentler than commercially produced chile sauces, which often overpower dishes with their vinegary taste. Slowly frying the garlic and chile melds their individual flavors, so that when you add a bit of this mixture to food, it doesn’t assault your palate with its boldness. It is particularly good with stir-fry dishes and certain noodle soups. There are different kinds of chile heat, and through practice and experimentation you will learn when to use them.

This simple garnish is great way to finish dishes with a little richness and some bright green color. Small steamed rice pancakes (page 268), sticky rice with roast chicken (page 246), and trout hand rolls (page 110) are only a few of the dishes that benefit from scallion oil.

Salting eggs is a simple preservation method used throughout Asia. Egg shells are porous, and after weeks of curing eggs in brine, the yolks turn bright yellow and richly flavored, while the whites become creamy and salty. The salted eggs are usually boiled and eaten as a snack or light meal with plain rice or Basic Rice Soup (page 67). The yolks are also used alone in special preparations, such as Moon Cakes (page 300). Traditionally, duck eggs are salted, but chicken eggs are easier to find and more affordable in the United States. Any kind of salt works, but fine sea salt doesn’t crystallize after boiling like both regular table salt and pickling salt sometimes do.

A specialty of Central Vietnam, these preserved vegetables pack plenty of punch in each garlicky, savory, sweet, and crunchy morsel. Served as a small side dish, they are a flavorful addition to any meal and even make a bowl of plain rice satisfying. Traditionally, the vegetables are cut into thick, stubby sticks, salted, and then partially dried outdoors on bamboo trays before they are left to sit in a mixture of fish sauce, sugar, and garlic. Here in the States, the oven speeds up the process considerably. I use small young daikons and large carrots and cut them into rounds instead of sticks.

Lovely to look at, these rosy shallots are also wonderful to eat. Their delightful tanginess and mild bite cut the richness of foods like beef or pork kho and Viet sausages, headcheese, or pâté. They are also good in a Western salad or sandwich. Tipplers might even try a few in a gin on the rocks. These shallots are a must for Tet celebrations. In fact, there is a traditional Tet couplet that includes dua hânh as one of the required foods for the holiday. My family doesn’t wait for the Lunar New Year to eat them, however. My mom and I make them year-round, using this recipe from my late aunt, Bac Dao. A widow most of her life, she often prepared large batches of various foods and divided them up among her family and friends. These shallots were usually among her gifts. Use small shallots (sold at Asian markets in red plastic net bags, each weighing about a pound) that are firm and without sprouts or mold. If shallots aren’t available, substitute red pearl onions (sold at most supermarkets).

This Southern Vietnamese specialty is technically a pickle because the vegetables steep in brine, but it is eaten in large amounts, more like a salad, with intensely flavored pork and fish kho (dishes simmered in caramel sauce). The texture and flavors of the vegetables provide the perfect bright contrast to the inky, deep flavors of kho. Flat, delicately flavored Chinese chives are traditionally combined with the bean sprouts and carrot. Because these chives can be hard to find, I often substitute leafy green scallion tops. Select small scallions the width of a chopstick or medium scallions. Larger ones can be too harsh. If you can find Chinese chives, substitute a nickel-sized bunch for the scallions.

The Vietnamese name for this fast pickle literally translates as “sour stuff.” Although it doesn’t sound enticing, it is exactly what you want to serve whenever you need a simple garnish (or side) that is tart, sweet, and crunchy. I keep a jar of it in the refrigerator for stuffing baguette sandwiches (page 34), for serving alongside grilled meats such as Grilled Garlicky Five-Spice Pork Steaks (page 143), and for adding to Duck and Chinese Egg Noodle Soup (page 220). Some people like the vegetables on the sweet side, but I prefer a tangy flavor and therefore use less sugar. When selecting daikons, look for evenly shaped, firm, smooth, unblemished roots.