#1: Meat floss po-boy

29 August, 2024

If you ever find yourself in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, hungry, jet-lagged, anxious from the endless stream of motorcycles passing by, head on over to Bánh Mì Bà Huynh in District 1 (https://banhmibahuynh.vn/). Here, your bravery from having to cross the endless steam of motorcycles in the streets in this city will be rewarded (tip: if you can, walk just “downstream” of a local crossing the street; they know how it’s done). Once you order you can sit back, watch the bikes go by, non-stop, and enjoy one of the best sandwiches you’ll ever eat.

Yall know what Cajun dish this resembles; it’s almost too obvious to say or use as a blog title. The origins of the po-boy and bánh mì are one in the same: the baguette (or French bread like we call it back home). For either one, fresh, slightly-crispy-on-the-outside and soft/pliable on the inside baguettes make all the difference. In Vietnam, some of the best baked baguettes you’ll ever eat are right around what seems like just about every corner. Sit and watch the streets for a bit, and you’ll see aunties (affectionate term for older ladies in Asia) on their bicycle hawker carts pass by selling their fresh homemade breads (and tons of other good things too: grilled, sun-dried whole squid anyone?).

Back in Louisiana I’ve eaten way too may po-boys to remember, with just about every filling on the inside: fried fish, grilled fish, fried shrimp, grilled shrimp, fried oysters, roast beef, hamburger, ham and cheese, mashed potatoes and gravy. My favorite? A fried shrimp po-boy with only ketchup, mayo, and a slice of American cheese melted over the top to hold it all together. Cheese? At this point most of you will probably quit reading, but if you’re still around hear me out: give it a shot. When I was a kid, my grandpa ordered one just like that (by mistake, I think), tried it, and was hooked. He gave me a bite, and so was I. I’m telling you: for some reason it just works. The melted cheese helps to hold it all together and keeps the shrimp from falling out the bread. The ketchup/mayo combo always works as a dip with fried or boiled seafood, and with fresh Louisiana-caught shrimp, you don’t need nothing else.

I’m not saying I’m an expert in po-boys, or food, or anything in general. All I’m saying is that I think a lot (probably too much) about food, about cooking, about how some meal, somewhere in the world reminds me of a Cajun dish back home.

Back to Vietnam. The bánh mì at Bánh Mì Bà Huynh doesn’t have cheese on it. It doesn’t need it. It’s got everything else though: homemade ham and mortadella, pâté, char siu (Chinese BBQ pork; more on that in another post), meat floss (exactly what it sounds like, think cotton candy but made of meat), beef bologna, all held together by a thick, rich buttery mayo (local name: Sốt Bơ Trứng). And the best part? They put the non-meat-derived products (I think they’re called vegetables) on the side, to use at your discretion.

These include long, thin-cut strips of carrot, onion, daikon radish, cucumber, cilantro, green onion, and small slices of the local, ubiquitous green chili. Go for everything but the cucumber and chilies: you don’t need spice here and cucumbers don’t belong in anything. The pâté and mayo are so rich, that the acidity, crunch, and freshness of the carrot, daikon, cilantro, and green onion help to balance out all of the flavors, to hold it all together.

I wish I could remember my initial reaction from my first bite. As someone who grew up with po-boys, more-often-than-not loaded with freshly caught seafood, I was a bit jaded when it came to sandwiches served on French bread. I had assumed, as all fools do, that I had had the best, experienced the maximum extent of flavors and possibilities that a sandwich like this could offer. That in my arrogance, I’m sure this bánh mì would be good, but it wouldn’t compare to anything I’ve had before. How could anything thing served on a baguette be better than freshly caught and fried speckled trout? But of course, I was wrong.

I think the first half of this bánh mì went down so fast that when I looked down at my plate and saw only one half left, I began to wonder what had just happened. I realized then that I had been mistaken. This sandwich was good. Real good. It was good in a way that hadn’t even imagined was possible. The pâté and mayo holding in all the other meats was so unbelievably rich and flavorful. And right before it became too heavy, the fresh veg added some brightness and pop to keep you going. And that’s without even mentioning the bread: fresh, crispy/flaky on the outside, soft on the inside, the perfect vessel to hold it all together.

Just like that, this had become one of my favorite sandwiches from anywhere and anytime; a new memory added to the collection of so many other great food memories. And just like that, not only did I realize that I had been wrong to assume that I knew what was best, but understood that traces of the food that I love back home pops up all over the world, in strange, new, and wonderful ways.

How ya make it?

I think the buttery mayo is the best part of this sandwich (which is saying something). In Vietnam it has a yellowish color because the egg yolks are a rich orange color, which make the final mayo look more “buttery”. You can try making it like this:

• Take a few cloves of garlic (and maybe a few small pieces of onion) and put them in half a cup of room temperature neutral oil (canola, corn, peanut, vegetable) on the stove
• Heat on medium-low until the garlic is lightly golden brown (probably about 10 – 15ish minutes). Do not over-brown it here; the garlic will become bitter
• Strain the garlic (save for later for another dish), and allow the oil to cool back to room temperature
• Separate and keep the yolk of one egg and put it in the blender, then sprinkle a pinch of salt (and maybe smaller pinch of sugar) on it
• Next, you’ll blend the egg yolk with the room-temp garlic-infused oil by slowly adding the oil while the blender is running

Next up the pâté. This is pretty easy to make, and there are tons of good recipes online. In short: sauté some chick livers with onion, garlic, and salt and pepper for a few minutes. Transfer to a blender/food processor and while blending, add small pieces of butter slowly to emulsify (about 1 stick of butter to 1/2 pound of livers). Blend till smooth and season to taste.

Now, take ya French bread that you forgot to get earlier and had to back to the grocery to get, and bake it whole for just a couple minutes. Make sure the outside is just barely crispy and the inside is still soft (it’s supposed to make a flakey mess when you bite into it). Cut one side in half longways being careful not to cut all the way through to the other side, and add generous amounts of the pâté to one side, and the buttery mayo to the other side.

Then load it up with pieces of your favorite thick-cut (about a ¼”) ham, bologna, and if you can find it, mortadella. Now I’ve never had this, and you may think I’m crazy (which has already been established), but I think a few thin slices of hogshead cheese might work pretty good too.

For the veggies add per your tastes. Just be sure to cut them in long, thin strips to fit on the sandwich. My favorites are carrot, green onion, very thin cut white onion, and daikon radish. If you can find daikon radish (the long white ones) at the grocery, add a couple of pieces; if you can’t find it, no worries. And if you like cucumber, you can add a couple of strips of that too; it’s very common on bánh mì in Vietnam. I personally despise cucumber, so it stays off mine.

As for the meat floss? You can probably just skip it.

Allons manger!