December: Bún Chả Cá

What does bún chả cá mean to me? Why bún chả cá?

Many of my favorite childhood experiences involve me assisting my mom in the kitchen, especially when it came to her frying up chả cá. Chả cá, which is a Vietnamese fish cake that is usually a ground-up mixture of tilapia, shallots, garlic, and green onion, was one of my favorite Vietnamese foods. My mom would buy chả cá at the nearest Vietnamese supermarket, where the mixture is typically sold by the pound in the seafood section and is the equivalent of a sausage blend prior to being cased. When she got home, she would fill a skillet up to ⅓” with olive oil, heat it up, and flatten the fish cake mixture across the base of the pan. I enjoyed watching the sides of the chả cá brown in the oil, and I was pleased to see my mom flip the fish cake over to reveal that the bottom half of it had successfully picked up a golden-brown hue.

The part that brought me utter joy was when my mom asked me to taste-test the chả ca. (Looking back at this, I realize that there was no real need for me to do this, given that this was market-made and she had no real control of the ingredients in the chả cá, but it was her way of making me feel like a truly helpful assistant in the kitchen.) Once it was cooled and patted dry of excess oil, I was able to bite through the crispy edges and savor the saltiness of the cake. Sometimes I would have to be reminded that the chả cá itself wasn't the meal, and that a full bed of thin rice vermicelli noodles and fish sauce awaited their primary companion.

Chả cá reminds me of my family’s humble beginnings -- when eating meant making do of whatever was in the cupboards, cabinets, and refrigerator in between trips to the supermarket. Chả cá reminds me of white rice with soy sauce or fish sauce, spaghetti with tomato sauce and canned tuna, iceberg lettuce with sliced ham, white bread toasted with butter and sugar, avocado and condensed milk… Chả cá reminds me about the times that we ate to survive, but the experience of these items being prepared by my mom always made me feel like we were thriving. Because without love, where else would we be?

Bún chả cá, accompanied by a plate of extra fish cake and boiled cabbage

How did I make bún chả cá?

Linked is a Google Document with my mother’s recipe. This is a pretty rough draft of it, because we went back and forth about revisions to the recipe. Instead of going with a store bought version of chả cá, my mom came up with a recipe for chả cá made from scratch.

I decided to request a recipe for a broth-based chả cá dish, hence bún chả cá -- fish cake noodle soup. This is a popular dish in central Vietnam, as evidenced by the multiple bún chả cá storefronts in Huế. My aunt, Dì Ngọc, also ran a restaurant in Vietnam that featured bún chả cá for breakfast. In lieu of traveling for the holiday break, I wanted to make something that reminded me of home and the homeland. 

This food processor has to be one of my favorite 2020 investments. 

The chả cá mixture (not pleasant-looking uncooked, I know)

My secret in making non-sticky fish meatballs: Spraying my disposable gloves with canola oil

Yasssssss

The broth with the cooked fish meatballs rising to the top

Who tried my bún chả cá?

Andrew was my guest of honor and has been the primary beneficiary of all my cooking experiments. Given the state’s Shelter-in-Place (SIP) order, I ended up preparing this dish in replacement of the typical Christmas Eve meal that we share with our respective families. Despite this shift in tradition, I am overall grateful that we were able to have an intimate Christmas celebration together with our new family member, Eggsy.

The next day, we went on a hike with Andrew’s old housemate, Holly, and we were able to share a portion of the bún chả cá with her.

The loves of my life: Andrew and Eggsy

Eggsy tentatively inspecting his first Christmas gift. Thanks, Auntie Kaelin!

Andrew, Holly, and I at our last big event before SIP

How was it?

Since I can be a tough critic of my cooking, I asked if Andrew could walk me through his experience in trying this dish for the first time. Given his feedback and my own experience, I am happy to report that it was delicious! Here are some of our main points about the meal:

• The fish cake recipe itself was perfect. When you bite through the fish meatballs or fish cake, you can taste the flakiness of the tilapia, which is a distinct and positive difference from the typical Vietnamese supermarket chả cá mixtures.
• My mom called for the fish cake to be lightly pan fried, which made it healthier than my childhood version. However, this made it easier to taste the freshness of the fish.
• The soup was a delicious partner to the chả cá. The sweetness of the broth cut the saltiness of the fish cakes, and -- as Andrew has told me several times -- he is a big fan of warmed pineapple.
• The cabbage was another nice complement to the dish, given that the neutrality of the boiled vegetable reduced the sharpness of the fish flavor.

Post-Project Reflection

This officially concludes my 2020 project, “Cooking Like Mom.” I initially embarked on this project to 1) battle my desire and necessity to be perfect, 2) learn more about my mom, 3) sustain my cultural practices, and 4) become a better cook, and I believe I’ve been able to do all that and more!

Given that COVID-19 was in the backdrop of this cooking series, I was forced to adapt to a variety of conditions and factors, including who would be able to prepare it with me (usually family members), where and how the meal would be consumed (outdoors and in separate dishes/non family-style for guests), and what I would do if I were missing some ingredients (just say fuck it). Because I was able to let go of the ideal presentation of the meal, I was able to enjoy the dish and my company more. I allowed myself to be present with who was in front of me as opposed to obsessing over their perception of the quality of my cooking.

If I could assign some superlatives to my meals as a retrospective:

• Favorite Product: MÌ QUẢNG. It goes without saying how much I love this dish in general, but I am so proud of myself for being able to cook it at a comparable quality to my mother’s own mì Quảng.
• Favorite Process: BÁNH BỘT LỌC. I loved being able to prepare and enjoy BBL with my sister, and I had a lovely time with her, Andrew, and Skye.
• Least Favorite Product: BÒ KHO. This kinda makes sense because 1) I attempted to make a healthier version of it without as much oil, and 2) I no longer eat as much beef as I used to as a kid. While the first batch wasn’t as good, I felt the revised mushroom stew was better.
• Least Favorite Process: PHỞ GÀ. I can go the rest of my life without having to chop off another chicken head.

Moving beyond 2020, I look forward to privately capturing more of my mother’s recipes and experimenting more in the kitchen. I also look forward to future cooking collaborations with loved ones once this pandemic is over. Overall, I look forward to just being -- allowing myself to savor the moments of preparing, cooking, and serving a dish, and being able to accept all experiences as learning opportunities that contribute to my skills in the kitchen.