Corrupting Vietnamese-American youth, one child at a time!

[muckefuck]

Last night after class, I finally slaked my curiosity about a local corner. Remember Forest Meat, the curious all-night Vietnamese restaurant rollick and I have written about? I believe I may have mentioned its rebirth as Asian Cafe some time ago. For weeks, there were nightly serenades of VietPop as part of a seemingly-unending Grand Opening. After these ceased, I noticed a steady improvement in the interior: Cleaner, and roomier, with hand-made signs advertising rice and soup specialties and a table full of homemade bánh. Clearly, circumstances warranted a reexploration.

Within five minutes, my chatty waitress had given me the whole story: Forest Meat was so two owners ago! The next set had only lasted "a brief time" since "they didn't know how to run a business." It's now called Anh Linh. She's Linh, btw, (I assume the eponymous one, although I never asked) and it turns out we both have the same employer, although she works on the downtown campus. "Where's your girlfriend?" she asked. Um, I don't have one. "Enjoying single life?" she said cheerfully. Uh, yeah, that's it. As she talked, her semilingual nephew came up to get a better look at me. After she'd left me with the menu, I turned to him and asked, "Are you my waiter." He nodded. "Are you going to bring my hot tea?" More nodding. I indicated the menu and asked "Can you tell me what's good?" He responded by making a sweeping gesture over the appetisers, saying "All good!"

Linh arrived with my tea and I asked her opinion. She began with, "Well, most Americans like..." which awakened in me a desperate desire to establish my adventurer cred. So after accepting her recommendation for the phở đặc biệt, I asked for what rollick might call a ditchwater cocktail, the pennyworth drink. That did the trick! Ordering some ethnic food not even your server will touch: 20 points! Unfortunately, the "special" phở was laden with those great hunks of beef...something (she assured me they weren't cartilage, although they have that appearance), which I refused to eat. "Those are very expensive," she pointed out, "They take a long time to cook." "I know," I said apologetically, "but I've had them before and I don't like them." I pointed out that I'd wolfed down the tripe, but to no avail. Not eating the expensive, hard-to-cook cow parts: -15 points!

As I finished up, her nephew and his older sister escaped from sequestration behind the counter and began playing on the tables. The shy, prepubescent girl ended up pulling all the chopsticks out of a holder on the neighbouring table, earning her a scolding from both auntie and mom. Thinking to distract her from further trouble, I pulled out my flower cards and began teaching her how to pair them off for Korean solitaire. I'm sure pleinweb, who attempted to learn the suits for a late-night game of Go Fish!, is snickering now, but she got the hang of it pretty well for someone who was nearing her bedtime.

Finally, I heard them pull a gate over the front window and decide it was time to make my exit. As I packed up and the kids returned to their kin, Linh announced, "They like you!" I dug some plum candies out of my bag, but asked, "Is it okay to give them some candy or is it too late?" "Too late for candy!" said a male relative who had arrived in the meantime. Consequently, I left them on the counter, saying "You can give these to them later." As I left, I was considering what kind of impression I'd made. Hmmm, a confirmed bachelor who befriends your young children and carries around candy in his bag.

We'll see if they're allowed from behind the counter next time!

Comments

[lil-m-moses.livejournal.com]

they weren't cartilage, although they have that appearance

Tendon, perhaps?

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

She kept saying they were "muscle". I protested that meat is muscle and suggested tendon, but she seemed to think that something else in the soup (and which I bravely ate) was tendon.

I wish I had a picture. They look like round rosettes, big enough to be bone sections.

[rollick.livejournal.com]

So I take it they no longer serve forest meat? And are "bánh" the little green packages that look like triangular rice balls in a seaweed wrap? I've been mildly curious about those for a while.

[niemandsrose.livejournal.com]

Ooh! Are "bánh" onigiri?

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

Nope. AFAICT, the Vietnamese are not big lavrivores.

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

Banana leaves, actually. Many of them are made with glutinous rice, but not all. I like to call the Cantonese version (they only seem to have the one), which is filled with cooked soybeans and barbecue pork, "Chinese tamales."

[rollick.livejournal.com]

Mmm, glutinous rice.

Have you tried Anh Linh's version yet?

And are you meant to peel off the banana leaf and eat the rice ball, or eat the whole thing as is?

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

Um, sure you can eat the banana leaf. But, ah, I get to watch!

I meant to, but, once they started closing up, I figured a quick exit was in order. I'll have to swing by some evening and load up on them. Should I drop a few off chez vousautres?

[rollick.livejournal.com]

Unnecessary. I was passing by there on my way to the el, and decided to be the pioneer. The communication gap was pretty difficult — I tried to explain the concept of "carry-out menu" to the hostess several times before she pushed me at another woman, who spoke English but still wanted me to sit down and read the menu. Eventually, they gave me an incomplete paper menu that starts at something like item #119, and mostly has the seafood specials — not very useful to someone who hates the taste of all things aquatic.

I requested a couple of the little triangular wraps, and non-English-speaking woman stuck them in a bag for me and took my money, while English-speaking woman picked up a styrofoam tray with half a dozen longer, burrito-shaped wraps clingwrapped to it, and insisted "You buy these too! These good too!" I said "What's the difference between them?" and she and the other woman looked at each other, and giggled, and English-speaking woman put them down and left.

Anyway, the contents turn out to be not so much glutinous rice as just plain glutin — a slightly greasy paste with the consistency of whipped potatoes, though it tastes like rice paste. It's not bad, but I'm not fond of the texture at all, and a mouthful of it would be like a mouthful of lard. The filling consists mostly of ground chicken, what I take to be black mushroom, and some herb, and it's not at all spicy, but it's quite tasty.