Unfortunately we continue to be underwhelmed by the food in Vietnam. If we were on the Seafood-Diet in Beijing we're now on the If-You-Can-Find-It-You-Can-Eat-It-Diet, or perhaps the CanWePullOff90kmsAgainOnNothingButNoodleSoupAndSugaryDrinks-Diet.
Our quest for interesting flavours has certainly resulted in some adventures. First the lows.
In Yen Cat we walked up and down the one street at about six thirty looking for signs of people eating. In poor areas it seems Vietnamese people eat to survive not to socialise, so we had little choice but to break Rule No. 1 and resorted to a place that didn't have any customers. Hannah stuck her head into the kitchen and tried to make clear that we'd rather not have the heart lying on the side in a bowl but we'd give the chicken a go. Ten minutes, much chopping, and several mosquito bites later a large dish of nicely flavoured but nevertheless unidentifiable and inedible bits of chicken grissle emerged. Feeling terribly rude we ate some rice and greens (served up with a side of their own cooking water) and made a quick exit.
In Huong Khe we thought we were on to a winner when we found a lakeside eatery with a couple of groups of men eating and drinking. Unfortunately our phrasebook was of no help whatsoever in deciphering the menu and the young waiter's recommendation resulted in a crudely chopped up, boiled (but not thoroughly - evidently the chef had not seen the public health campaign poster in the image above), tepid whole chicken. Again we left without touching the meat and left feeling deflated in more ways than one. And now for the highs.
In Pho Chau we were more lucky. Sitting down in a dark 'street kitchen' containing several groups of young men we pointed at whatever they were eating and hoped for the best. In the low light we had no idea what we were eating but it tasted nice and after much discussion we decided it was probably congee (rice porridge) with freshwater eel (and fresh basil).
In Dong Ha we again tried the 'we'll have what they're having' trick and enjoyed a very flavoursome hot pot different to those we'd enjoyed in China in that it sat on a block of flaming paraffin. But the broth was tasty and we enjoyed the contents: noodles, herbs, okra, mushrooms, tofu, cubes of blood cake (bit like black pudding but with the smooth texture of tofu), cubes of beef heart and cubes of beef tongue.
In Tan Ky we experienced our most memorable meal to date. Walking through this end-of-the-earth place suffering from the familiar nobody's-eating panic Hannah said to Zoe 'I wish someone would just come up to us and offer - in English - to help us find something to eat'. Five minutes later a very surprised-looking (though apparently psychic!) English teacher from the local high school stopped her moped and - after some discussion - revealed that it was her 'dream' to talk with foreigners. We invited her to join us in the nearest 'restaurant' which she said was good but warned was somewhat expensive.. possibly as much as £1.50 per person. Turned out this was the place to try stewed dove. 'Very good for your health', apparently. Out came three little individual metal pots, each containing a soupy rice porridge topped with a whole dove. The doves were so well stewed that it only took the back of a spoon to disintegrate them (head and all) into the porridge before sprinkling on some green stuff and tucking in. To cut a long evening short the two of us ended up on the back of this tiny woman's moped dodging police (no helmets) to get to the edge of town to look at the stars and the silhouette of the mountains and then dropping in on her friend, the deputy-manager of the local bank, for some tea and bright pink cake. But not before the dove restaurant proprietress - a rather beautiful 56 year old veteran of the 'American war' (she put on her uniform and medals to prove it!) whose husband had left her and gone to Japan had tried to persuade us, or at least Zoe, to stay the night with her by begging Zoe (entirely through gestures) to try out her bed.
We're in Hue now and off to Saigon in the morning (24-hour train journey.. bikes have gone ahead, we hope!). In the next post we'll give some insight into 'life on the road with the Darvill-Farmers'.
3 comments:
The idea of eating an entire stewed dove (head and all) makes me feel a bit queasy! I assume the dove must have been quite yound and was so violently stewed that the bones had gone a bit bown-marrow like and were edible?
Nonetheless, there are slight zombie vibes going on here in that you ate BRAINS! (more than likely).
Do you think UK Vietnamese restaurants are the sanitised tastier version of actual Vietnamese cooking or are you just being unlucky?
god, my typing is all over the place!
That'd be: a "young" rather than a "yound" dove and a "bone" rather than a "bown"
Well like Paul I have to say your dietary adventures are quite impressive. Hitherto I've fancied myself someone who would eat most things, but I think a stewed whole dove would give me pause.
What an amazing adventure! You're missing the rainy non-summer here in London, fyi, so eat your heart out. :)
x
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