August: Bánh Xèo

What does bánh xèo mean to me? Why bánh xèo?

While I have had multiple experiences with eating bánh xèo in growing up, one of my most memorable experiences with it occurred when I first went to Saigon at the age of ten. My cousins heard that their beloved uncle and his family were coming back to the homeland after his 15-year absence, and so they wanted to take us on a night on the town. They took us to eat at “Bánh Xèo,” a famous rooftop restaurant that specialized in -- you know it -- bánh xèo.

I remember us pulling up in a taxi to the bright, neon yellow sign that explicitly advertised its prided dish. The font was playfully scripted across the dark, night sky. I remember walking up the stairs to the open-air restaurant, feeling the humidity hug my body and the occasional wind from the traffic below play with my stray hairs. I remember seeing the dinner patrons smile, laugh joyfully, and eat heartily with their tablemates, and I remember seeing the serving staff walk briskly between their guests and the cooks, who were visibly preoccupied with creating bánh xèo with an 18-inch diameter. I had never seen bánh xèo this big before, and I couldn’t wait to eat it.

To enjoy the bánh xèo, as my mom would encourage you to do, you start by tearing off a piece of the bánh xèo, which may have some meat and bean sprouts attached. You place a lettuce leaf in the palm of one hand, and you set some mint leaves and a cucumber slice on top of the leaf. Then, you place the piece of bánh xèo on top of the greens, you fold it or wrap it, then you dip it into fish sauce or peanut sauce. Quickly bring the food to your mouth before the sauce drips out of your hand and onto your clothes. You should taste a texture and flavor explosion: The crispiness of the lettuce leaf, cucumber, and the external layer of bánh xèo contrasts with the slightly undercooked inner layer of the bánh xèo and the sauce. You should detect hints of green onion, turmeric, garlic, and Thai chili, which are subdued by the mixture of coconut milk and club soda in the batter. If you don’t have to wipe or wash the sauce off your hands as you are eating, you ain’t doin’ it right. 

Pictured: Individual servings of bánh xèo, accompanied by fish sauce, peanut sauce, lettuce, mint leaves, and cucumber slices. (Yes, those are repurposed jars that you see. I am already on my way to becoming a Vietnamese mother.)

Eating bánh xèo has always been a communal endeavor, and it is probably best enjoyed on a temperate day. (My mom told me that her favorite memory of eating bánh xèo involved her being surrounded by mini-stoves and frying pans on a cold and rainy day at a nearby vendor with her sister.) Thus, making it during the summer and the time of COVID is not exactly ideal. However, I was going to have some friends over for a socially-distant “Insidelands” viewing, and the outside heat let up a bit for me to feel comfortable standing in front of a stove for long periods of time. I made individual servings of bánh xèo for folks to consume. (Although, one can argue that bánh xèo with a 18-inch diameter can be made for one person.)

How did I make bánh xèo?

Linked is a Google Document with my mother’s recipe.

I spent all of Saturday morning (10:00am-2:00pm) preparing the ingredients. Given that I opted out of using pork and that I went with a big bag of Costco peeled and deveined shrimp, I spent less time with the meat and more time with the sauces. I never made the peanut sauce before, nor have I had it with bánh xèo, so it was a pleasant addition to the palate. 

I stayed motivated by grooving to a collaborative playlist I started making the night before, designated as a dance mix and dedicated to some of my close homegirls. Along with being inspired by my mom, I am very fortunate to be surrounded by inspiring women in my personal and workspace, who continue to remind me that I am more than enough.

Biggest surprise: There are no eggs included in bánh xèo, even though it looks like a giant omelette. 

Flash frying the shrimp

Notice how the batter darkens as it cooks. Each bánh xèo should finish cooking between 15-20 minutes, depending on how powerful your stove is and how conducive your pans are.

Voila! Notice the beautiful, brown spots that outline the shrimps' presence!

Who tried my bánh xèo?

I got to share the bánh xèo with Andrew and a close pod of friends: Robert, Ken, and Joy. We enjoyed the dinner in between music sets during the “Insidelands” broadcast.

How was it?

I usually aim to be as healthy as possible, so eating fried food like this is reserved for special occasions. While I was cooking the rest of the bánh xèo, I heard Joy exclaim, “This is the best bánh xèo I’ve ever had!” That brought a huge smile to my face. The others reacted as naturally as they do when they enjoy their food: Andrew and Robert quietly consumed their meal, as Ken engaged me in a conversation about the bánh xèo. They all noted that they had not had it with fresh vegetables before (other than Robert, who had eaten it at my mother’s house in previous years), and that the contrast effect that is created with the multiple ingredients made this a unique experience.

As I observed Andrew eating, I recalled the last time that he and I had bánh xèo together. We were completing our Southeast Asia/Homelands trip in Saigon during the summer of 2016. We had planned to meet one of his friends, Vince, at a restaurant that he highly recommended -- “Bánh Xèo.” This restaurant was one of the many franchises that stemmed from that first one I visited almost two decades prior. Also, the bánh xèo was less memorable than the bánh khọt we “ooo’ed” and “ahh’ed” over, given that we each never had it before. What was most memorable was the fact that I got to meet Vince -- the famous, hip-hop loving friend who I had not yet gotten to know in mine and Andrew’s early stages of dating because he was living and working in Saigon.

Vince and I hit it off right away, given our common interests and experience with working in Vietnam, and we escalated our friendship-building during our four-hour hangout -- including our lunch and a visit to the Vietnam War Remnant Museum, which he coincidentally had not yet visited. Together, we reflected on the biased placards describing a history that our parents explained from a different point of view. We looked on with horror at the photos used to create a collective consciousness against the war. We empathetically discussed the lasting impacts of the war, including the physiological and genetic impact on Agent Orange victims.

Despite the somber tone of the museum visit, we parted in good spirits -- energized by the presence of a hometown friend in a foreign country. Unfortunately, that was the last time I saw Vince. We lost him in March 2019.

Joy and Andrew went to high school with Vince, and it felt fitting for me to remember him fondly during a dinner in which we were enjoying a meal that we had also once shared with him. I hope we can continue to honor his spirit by eating well, having fun, and holding those we love close to our hearts and minds.