Cooking The Books

Keu, Old St for some Banh Mi

When I first found the Vietnamese restauarants of London's East End I fell in love.  They were my first experience of the country's cuisine and I was smitten from day one.  The zing of lime, the heat of chili, the pungency of fish sauce and the freshness of herbs combined into a cacophany of flavour that was familiar yet altogether different from anything I'd had before.  Fast forward a few years and I was lucky enough to spend a month in Vietnam, travelling north to south the entire length of the country and getting to eat all the dishes, and more, than I'd fallen for back home.  This was a blessing but also a curse.  Upon returning to London all my favourite Shoreditch haunts suddenly weren't as nice as I remembered.  Chilies had lost their heat, lime it's zing, fish sauce was altogether less pungent and herbs were limp.  I still enjoyed most of them, don't get me wrong, but it was like my window into Vietnamese cuisine needed a damn good clean.

One restaurant that continued to shine though was Viet Grill, so when I heard recently (and by recently I mean about 11 o'clock this morning) they had opened Keu, a banh mi shop, I was over there like a flash.  Two tube lines and 7 stations later I was stood in front of a rather nice looking building.  Stepping inside the dark wood, dark tile and exposed brick should have been far more imposing than it was but the full-size front windows left a lovely, bright space.  The large counter concealed trays full of ingredients and stacks of banh mi & croissants, the numerous staff stood in front of shelves of srichacha & mayonnsaise (the Japanese Kewpie, which surprised me) and a stainless steel trolley proudly hanging a pair of roast ducks. 

First impressions were good and a glance at the menu did nothing to change this.  To go with the banh mi a selection of rice based dishes were available, a salad section concealing the de facto summer rolls.  To wash it all down there are fresh juices and smoothies, coffee (Vietnamese and more usual preparations) or some bottled beverages, Fentimans springs to mind.  If this wasn't enough a black board listed daily specials, both rice based and extra banh mi fillings.  There was food and drink galore.

I have trouble making my mind up at the best of times, although it was made easier as it was banh mi that had bought me here.  I decided to cover as many bases as possible and ordered the Keu Banh Mi - with its pork belly, Vietnamese luncheon meat and chicken liver pate - and took my seat.  The sandwich I was presented with was a thing of beauty, the dark golden bread concealing plenty of meat with cucumber, coriander and pickled vegetables providing some of my 5-a-day. Upon taking a bite my first impressions were the bread was verging on one of those crusty ones from Europe, the crumb had the light airiness one expects in a banh mi but the crust was thicker than I remember them being over there, requiring a bit more of a bite to get through.  Once I was through it though the sandwich was very well balanced, chewy rind on the pork belly giving way to creamy fat and soft meat, chicken liver pate pulling the whole thing together with its richness.  The sprinkling of Maggi on the pickled vegetables didn't go unnoticed either.

I decided I wanted to pep up the heat so went for the srichacha on my table, which I noticed was the US made Rooster brand rather than something imported from Vietnam.  With Japanese mayonnaise, Californian chili and the French-feeling bread the purist in me was starting to play up a bit but in the battle between it and my tastebuds in the end the tastebuds won - the simple fact was this was a very, very tasty sandwich.  As I sat typing notes on my phone I really didn't want it to end and the mouthfuls got smaller and smaller as I tried to delay the inevitable, in the end I ordered some summer rolls too in an attempt to drag out my time there but whilst tasty they weren't more banh mi.  For that I am going to have to return, which I will. 

Keu

332 Old Street

London

EC1V 9DR

City Caphe

A while ago a lady contacted me about banh mi, saying how she was starting a new Vietnamese food venture in the city and how my banh mi post from Hanoi had inspired her to recreate the pointed ended baguettes of that region when they did.  I was more than intrigued so soon as I'd heard it had opened - not from her I should add, but from London Eating - I hopped on the tube and made the rather-long-for-lunch journey from Mayfair to Bank. 

Upon entering I was struck by the decor.  They've tried to recreate the feel of Vietnam here and, outside of the lack of 35 degree heat and uncomfortable humidity, they have succeeded.  I love the sun bleached colonial yellow walls, the handwritten food related Vietnamese messages around the tables and the inclusion of a real life banh mi hawker cart, imported from Vietnam and stuck at the end of the counter, is the kind of attention to detail I like.

On this trip I was mortified to find they didn't have banh mi yet due to a lack of baguettes, my mortification was short-lived though when I turned to the old faithful beef pho, which was a respectable example of this dish.  The stock - made themselves - had good flavour, a strong beef aroma and nice aromatics. One of my favourite things about it was the cut of beef which came complete with a little grizzle and fat, maybe not to everyone's taste but I wouldn't want it any other way as it provided variety of texture and flavour and reminded me of Vietnam. I was pleased to find the accompanying sliced red chilies had a bit of heat, which isn't always the case. 

My dining companion's rice with char-grilled pork was described as having lots of flavour, a bit of chew but nice and moist. A free salad comes with the main dishes which is basically some pickles, cucumber, coriander and some animal - mine pork and prawn, my friend's chicken - which makes a nice side to the meal. One criticism would be the pickles were a little flat, the vinegar not coming through as much as I would have liked.  We shared some summer rolls too which had a good balance of herbs, noodles and prawns, the dip that came with them was an interesting peanut affair that I'd not had before.

Along with the salad all customers were given a free cafe sua da, a cold Vietnamese coffee topped with condensed milk - I'm assuming as an introduction with the hope of repeat trade.  Julie has since said they also add fresh milk, to improve the taste for the Western palate, but I was instantly transported to a Hanoi street corner by the chicory overtones of the bean, which is bought from Ca Phe VN on Broadway market.  If you've never had one of these before I'd definitely recommend giving it a try.

After my first visit I got in touch with the owner Julie to let her know I'd been, saying I would introduce myself next time, and she invited me back the next day to taste their pre-production banh mi.  I could hardly turn down that offer so after work I made my way back across town to see if their dedication to finding the right baguette had paid off.  The bread, which is by far the most important thing in a banh mi, was light and fluffy on the inside with a thin, crisp crust - just as it should be.  Julie said they'd spoke to a number of Vietnamese bakeries, in Vietnam and abroad, before settling on the recipe which ended up being pure wheat flour, which was in line with other bakeries they'd spoke to.  A lot has been said about the importance of rice flour in banh mi but here it's definitely not missed.

I ate all the fillings and favourites where the classic (rolled belly, pate and Vietnamese luncheon meat) and chargrilled pork, the five spice in that setting the banh mi off a treat.  Chicken was chicken, beef fragrant with lemongrass and the vegetarian fried tofu with oyster mushrooms surprisingly meaty.  Whilst eating I got to meet the family behind it, who were all lovely, and regale them with my tales of eating in Vietnam on my travels.  Well sated I left promising I would return for the production item. 

I was worried that the location was a bit out the way but having returned now they're fully in operation that doesn't seem a problem, there is no shortage of customers.  I needed to try the banh mi proper so ordered the classic (I just can't turn down all those different porcine delights) to see how it compared to my tasters.  As before the bread was light and crispy and the fillings crunchy and flavoursome, being a glutton for heat a little squirt of the provided chili sauce takes them another step up.  Trying to work my way through the menu a bit the banh mi was joined by some fried spring rolls, nice and meaty with a gorgeously pungent nuoc cham (fish sauce and vinegar based dip).

Having now been twice I'm happy to say City Caphe is definitely doing things to my taste and it won't be long before I hop on the bike again for a Mayfair to Bank lunch time banh mi.  A welcome addition to London's burgeoning banh mi scene.

City Caphe, 17 Ironmonger Lane, EC2V 8EY

King Prawn and Roasted Garlic Spring Rolls

This recipe has been developing in my head for ages and as I write it is sat in my belly, I just couldn't wait to get it on the blog.  Ever since I imagined the king prawn sat alongside the sweet roasted garlic in an Asian snack of some sort it has been growing. I've been trying to figure out what else to put with, how to wrap it and so on - up until this morning even I wasn't sure what that final layer would be.  Would I stick it in a translucent dough like har gau?  Wrap it in a won ton skin and have it in soup?  Maybe in wheat dough cooked potsticker style?  In the end the rice paper spring roll wrapper was victorious as I craved the crunch.  The versatile wrappers also allowed me to try out two cooking methods, the aforementioned fried and a softer (healthier) steamed affair.  I'm glad I did because they were delightful. 

Many Chinese seafood dumpling recipes include pork fat - even if they don't have any pork - but I've always ignored it, the lean pigs over here normally too short of it for eating as part of the cut let alone having any to spare for other purposes.  My dumplings have always lacked something too, which before now I'd always put down to my lack of MSG usage when making them.  Having sacrificed the edge of a pork chop for these I now know that it is a must include ingredient.  Mashed to a paste with some of the prawns it turned the filling from a rough hash of prawns to the firm, juicy, prawn studded filling I'm used to in Chinatown.  Remember we're talking hard fat from a joint here though, I can't imagine a big lump of rendered lard would have the same effect.

The roasted garlic, even with its Western origins, played its part perfectly, marrying with the king prawn exactly as I imagined it would.  I'm pretty proud of the result.

King Prawn and Roasted Garlic Spring Roll Recipe

200gr raw king prawns

50gr pork fat, cut from a chop or joint (not rendered lard)

3 wood ear mushrooms, soaked

4 cloves of garlic, unpeeled

1/3 ts salt

1/2 ts light soy sauce

1 ts rice wine

Few drops of sesame oil

Pinch of white pepper

Pinch of sugar

8 rice paper sheets (22cm)

Method

First roast the garlic.  Wrap the unpeeled cloves in foil and cook for 30 minutes at 200C.

Take the pork fat and 75 gr of the prawns and pulse in a mini-processor until reasonably smooth.

Roughly chop the remaining prawns, shred the wood ear mushrooms, squeeze the garlic from the skins then place everything except the rice paper in a big bowl and mix really well.

To wrap run a circle of rice paper under the tap, shake off the excess water and hold till it starts to go soft.  Lay it on a chopping board, put 1/8 of the mixture (a dessert spoonful maybe) in a line (about 7cm long and 3cm wide) three-quarters of the way down the sheet.  Fold the sides across then roll it up tightly, starting from the short end.  Place onto a plate, lightly oiled so they won't stick.

To cook either deep fry for 4-5 minutes till golden or steam for 6-8 minutes.

Serve with whatever dip you fancy.  I had two, some sriracha and a homemade sauce of equal parts rice vinegar and fish sauce. 

Stuffed Bitter Melon Soup

I've only recently posted about bitter melon but that recipe only got through half of it and at just over £6 for the vegetable I wasn't letting the other bit go to waste (even if the pointy end had gone a bit soft by the time I got around to it).

My first encounter with bitter melon was in stuffed form, the Chinese recipe where the gourd is sliced, the seeds are scraped out and the void is filled will minced pork and prawn before the meat and veg disks are cooked in black bean sauce.  It's a lovely dish but Lizzie over on Hollow Legs has already blogged that so I thought I'd do something different, which looking at Lizzie's stuffing ingredients isn't actually that different.  The starch thickened Chinese sauce is replaced with a punchy stock though which makes for a very moreish soup, the stock taking on flavours from both the vegetable and the stuffing, not to mention the big glug of fish sauce at the end. 

If you're looking for provenance then I have eaten this in the middle of Vietnam and something very similar is served in Thailand too.

Stuffed Bitter Melon Soup

Serves 3

350gr bitter melon (half a decent sized one)

250gr minced pork

1 ts oyster sauce

1/2 ts salt

1 clove garlic, finely chopped

1/2 ts sugar

1/4ts white pepper

3-4 dried wood ear mushrooms, soaked

1.25 litres chicken stock, weak as it will reduce

1 TB fish sauce

Greens from two spring onions

Method

Chop the bitter melon into three then scoop out the seeds, scraping the pith out with them.  Give them a good coating in salt (not in ingredient's list) and leave in a colander or sieve over the sink for 15 minutes.  This will help leech out some of the bitterness.  Wash well and dry off.

Shred the reconstituted wood ear mushrooms then mix into the pork along with the oyster sauce, garlic, salt, sugar and white pepper.  Stir well to combine, if you stir in one direction then the meat should come together and firm up.

Stuff each section of bitter melon with the pork and then place into the chicken stock, bring to the boil then simmering gently for 30-40 minutes till the bitter melon is tender and the pork cooked through.  Top up the stock if it looks like it is reducing too much.

Place the stuffed bitter melon in three bowls then add the fish sauce to the stock before topping up each bowl.  Before serving scatter the spring onion greens over the stuffed bitter melon soup.

Bitter Melon with Tofu

Whilst travelling last year I kept a little notepad of all the dishes I'd eaten and wanted to try and recreate when I got home.  This has sat in the drawer unread for months but I got it out a couple of nights back and this dish caught my eye.  From it's place in the book I can't figure out whether it's from China or Vietnam, sitting slap bang in the middle of the two, but the black pepper suggests to me it was probably Vietnam.  Either way where it comes from isn't important, it's how it tastes that matters.

The bitter melon can be a bit of an acquired taste for the Western palate.  It's a gourd, rather than a melon, and so texturally quite like marrow but it carries a bitter flavour that some don't like.  When preparing a salting helps reduce the bitterness a bit though and in this recipe sugar in the sauce helps to balance it out.  I've learnt to love the bitter element of it and if you like radicchio or endive though then it should be right up your street. 

Bitter Melon with Tofu

Serves 2 as main meal, 3-4 if part of a spread

350gr bitter melon (1/2 a large one)

110gr fried tofu (this was half a pack), the puffs cut in half

1 red chilli, sliced

1 medium carrot, peeled and sliced 3mm thick on the diagonal

3 cloves of garlic, peeled and thickly sliced

200ml chicken stock (use vegetarian stock to make the dish veggie)

1 TB rice wine

1 ts light soy

1/2 ts black peppercorns, crushed

1/2 ts sugar

1 TB of cornflour in 2 TB of water

A few drops of sesame oil

Method

To prepare the bitter melon cut in half lengthways then scoop out the seeds and white pith.  Slice into cm or so crescents.  Sprinkle liberally with salt and leave for 15 minutes, this will reduce the bitterness.  Rinse the salt off.

Heat some peanut oil in a wok until nearly smoking then add the garlic and chili and fry briefly, like 15 seconds.

Add the carrot and bitter melon and fry for 2 minutes more.

Add the stock, rice wine, soy sauce, black pepper and sugar, bring to the boil then chuck in the tofu and mix to combine.

Cook for 30 seconds till the tofu is heated through then add the cornflour mixture, bringing back to the boil to thicken.

Splash on the sesame oil and serve.