The other day, I accepted a challenge from friends to make a dinner of American food in our apartment. The first problem with that was the limits of the kitchen -- no oven, a propane camp stove that I didn't know how to turn on, and no pots, pans or anything else larger than a saucer, no cutting board, no counter space, and no way to communicate at the markets. The second problem is my limited repertoire. I like making desserts -- in an oven. And it's been more than 10 years since I made any kind of chicken, beef or pork dish. When I cook fish, it's usually on the grill.So, brainstorming what I could make on a stovetop with minimal complication with ingredients I could buy here and that might taste plausibly foreign to our Vietnamese guests, I settled on pasta, which I was able to buy at great expense at a market here that specializes in "gourmet" import food. They also had sauce in a jar, but I was pretty sure no one would be impressed with that, and I didn't have the gear for a homemade sauce. So I decided on tossing it with olive oil (again, not easy to find) and pan fried fresh Mekong River shrimp that I marinaded in cajun spice, which I found in the import market, along with cilantro and bell peppers. I found some really good looking Parmesan, but it was being sold by the gram, so I decided on a bland feta cheese. There were no greek olives, so we settled on cocktail olives with pimento. Desert was Pepperidge Farm cookies, which I think really are almost like homemade.
The whole affair was a reminder that travel is the art of compromise. Can you see from the picture that I'm using an aluminum teapot to cook the pasta in?
The one thing that wasn't a compromise was the bread. I found a bakery here that is the real deal. (Schneider's on Pasteur across from the palace, if you're in the neighborhood.)
The whole thing took me about five different shopping trips over a few days, and the least expensive ingredient was the kilo of shrimp.
This was actually an "iron chef" kind of party, and after the pasta (which our guests picked at very politely), Tuan prepared fried spring rolls and all the fixings.
Which was familiar territory, but he did introduce us to one new item -- a kind of soft drink prepared on the spot with a syrup from tamarind juices, mixed with hot water, then poured over ice and the chewy pits of tamarind and sprinkled with peanuts. It was very sweet and tasty. I wish I had gotten the name of it.
This wasn't even the most exciting part of the evening. Don't ask about the plumbing disaster that unfolded in the middle of it all. I'll just say that washing the dishes was also a reminder that travel is the art of compromise.
-Robert
