
"Chuc mung nam moi!" - is the first thing we learned to pronounce in the tongue-twisting Vietnamese language. We reached Saigon (perhaps better known now by its official name: Ho Chi Minh City) right before the New Year's Eve, and everyone was wishing us a Happy New Year, smiling and waving. For the next couple of weeks we were guests in Vietnam, traveling from the Mekong Delta up to Halong Bay, with those smiles following us wherever we went. And what a trip it was!
For a fiercely proud Communist nation, it is far more capitalistic than anyone could hope for. Taking U.S. dollars from the tourists under the watchful eye of Uncle Ho's posters is a virtue, not a criminal offence. The work ethic is phenomenal. The rice fields are plentiful, making tiny Vietnam the world's second biggest exporter of rice. Also, there is a rich cultural history and comparatively undeveloped tourism market. These few random observations, in combination with prices that resemble those of Kyiv in the early 90's, attest to "great potential" for both one-man shops with a few thousand bucks in their pocket and multinationals alike. For example, Intel is building a chipset assembly and test manufacturing plant at the Ho Chi Minh City Hi-tech park with initial capital of $300 million. Everywhere we turned, business was booming as old enemies were welcomed as investors.
These accomplishments are truly amazing, given that Americans bombed this little coastal country "into the stone age" just a short while ago (historically speaking). A brief visit to the "War Remnants Museum" in Ho Chi Minh City provides rather gruesome detail about Vietnam's recent past, when 3 million Vietnamese were killed (including 2 million civilians, farmers and their families), about 2 million more wounded and another 300,000 missing. More then 2 million hectares of forests and agricultural land were totally destroyed by toxic chemicals (Agent Orange, DDT), leaving polluted fields and generations of handicapped children to suffer long after the war ended.
We stood inside the notorious "tiger cages" that were used on Poulo-Condor Island and read about the sadistic torture methods, employed in the name of saving the Vietnamese people from the evils of Communism. After a couple of days, we found Saigon, home to more than 8 million people and 3 million motorbikes, to be too noisy, crowded and dirty. So we decided to see how the Vietnamese people live outside this big city.
In the southeast of Vietnam, the Mekong River brings rich silt to the Mekong Delta, which settles into new farmland. Fish thrive in the mangrove swamps. That's why most of the people in the Delta are either farmers or fishermen. It also explains the rich variety in southern Vietnamese cuisine: every imaginable vegetable, fruit, herb and sea creature. Fresh crabs, shrimp, squid, mussels and countless variety of fish. In restaurants, you can order such exotic dishes as spicy frog legs, Mekong Delta crocodile, shredded pepper snake (our favorite), turtle, even a mouse!
Next, we flew to central Vietnam and stayed in Hue, an imperial capital during the Nguyen Dynasty and home to the revered Ho Chi Minh. Its forbidden city is like an open-air museum, with hundreds of temples (most were badly damaged during the war). We also explored the nearby jewel, Hoi An, one of Vietnam's four World Heritage sites. It's a charming, picturesque town with narrow streets, 200-year-old wooden buildings and countless made-to-order tailor shops. Then we moved further north, to Hanoi and Halong Bay, one of the world's natural wonders with thousands of islands amidst smooth, emerald waters. The bay has offshore fishing villages, with their own farms. The children who grow up on these floating farms never attend school, though, because it's too expensive and the traveling distances are considerable.
One thing is for certain: life for an average Vietnamese family is not easy, whether they are selling fruits off their boats on the Mekong Delta, running a
t-shirt stall in Ben Thanh market in the heart of Ho Chi Minh City, selling pho in the old quarter in Hanoi, working in the watery paddy field or living on a small, floating crab-and-clam farm in an obscure fishing community on Halong Bay. From morning to night, life is always about working, and children must help with the chores. And amidst their poverty, the people would give us those huge, genuinely warm smiles. The children would wave at us. "Xin chau," we always answered, waving back, "ba khoe khong?" After our feeble attempt to correctly pronounce, "hello, how are you" in their own language, we made instant friends wherever we went.
Last, but not least, a few words about Vietnamese food. Those who like to eat know that Vietnamese cuisine is one of the world's finest. Personally, we found the tastiest options in those "hole-in-the-wall" places that have no menu, no napkins, and serve only one dish, which is their specialty. During our trip, we tasted numerous street food dishes, including skewers of barbecued beef, chicken skewers wrapped in lemon leaves and grilled over charcoal, tasty barbecued pork with rice noodles, cilantro and basil, shredded snake in pepper sauce and spicy snails. We even tried to order a grilled mouse, but were told that mice were not in season. And of course, like everyone else, we fell in love with pho, a lovely broth with rice noodles, slivers of beef or chicken, served with pungent fish sauce, bean sprouts, coriander, limes and chili sauce.
Wherever we traveled, the seafood restaurants offered a bewildering array of crab dishes, ranging from meaty crabs in the shell (we liked them with a turmeric sauce) to the typical Vietnamese soft-shell crabs, not to mention shrimps, prawns, fresh fish and assorted shellfish. Then there's high end dining, with Vietnamese-fusion dishes, like shark-fin soups with depth and richness we have never tasted before, suckling pig cooked in caramel and wild pepper, smoky roasted duck breast glazed with Vietnamese barbecue sauce, among many others. Surprisingly, Hanoi, not Saigon, had the best restaurants with the Sofitel Metropole famous lunch buffet and stunning Wild Rice restaurant taking top honors. The most exotic drink we could find was cobra-infused rice wine, which is remarkably similar in taste to Ukrainian moonshine. This confirmed, once and for all, that Vietnamese and Ukrainian cultures are closer then any of us realized.
Frishberg's Fabulous Pho
Chicken broth:
5 lbs meaty chicken bones (backs and wings), rinsed (or shrimp?) 5 quarts of water 1 small onion 1 piece of fresh ginger (4 inches long) 2 ounces rock sugar 1 pound chicken breasts, thighs or combination Salt, to taste Fish sauce, to taste
Preparing the soup:
1/2 cup vegetable oil 1 large shallot, peeled and thinly sliced 1 pound fresh rice noodles or dried rice noodles (1/8 inch wide) 4 green onions, cut into 1/4-inch slices 1/2 bunch cilantro, trimmed of thick stems, chopped 1/4 pound bean sprouts 1 lime, cut into wedges Sprigs of Thai basil 2 jalapeno or serrano chilies, thinly sliced Broth preparation: combine the chicken bones and water in a large pot; bring to a boil over medium heat. Skim any scum and foam that rises to the surface. Reduce heat until the broth is at a low simmer.
Char the onion over a gas burner or on a grill until lightly blackened on all sides. Add the onion, ginger and rock sugar to the broth. Submerge the chicken breasts/thighs in the broth and simmer until cooked through (about 30 minutes). Remove the chicken and let cool. Continue a simmer until the broth is reduced by half (about 2 hours). Strain through a fine sieve. Season with salt and fish sauce.
Soup preparation: heat the oil in skillet over medium heat. Add the shallot and fry, stirring frequently, until golden brown. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the shallot to paper towels to drain. Remove the chicken meat from the bones and shred into strips. Discard bones and skin.
If using dry noodles, place in a bowl of cold water for 30 minutes. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Divide the noodles into four portions. Put the noodles, one portion at a time, onto a sieve and lower into the boiling water for 20 seconds. Drain well and transfer to large bowls.
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