Eat Drink Style Saigon, Vietnam - Banh Xeo 46A, A Taste of Vietnamese Crepes

FYI. The "46A" in the restaurant name refers to the address. Pho restaurants like Pho 54, Pho 79 and Pho 87, contrary to belief, do not indicate the years in which the families emigrated from Vietnam – they are the addresses of their business back in Vietnam. But Pho 69, that could be an entirely different story.

Rewind to the previous day, before the monstrous breakfast I had. When Jeni and I arrived in Saigon, we had already printed out a list of things/places we wanted to eat. Even though there was Vietnam's review site, cleverly named Yup! we were good to go. Three pages of paragraphs detailing exact locations of restaurants or stalls. With the help of our friend MN, we pretty much had a scavenger hunt map in our hands. No photos, but only descriptions that would take us through tight alleys and hair-raising traffic to places we would never have dreamt of finding.

Another bit of inspiration is always Anthony Bourdain. In Season 5, Episode 10, he travels back to Vietnam but with the intention of moving to a country that always wins his heart. For me, this is was one of my Top 5 Bourdain episodes. No bullshit sight-seeing or foreplay, it was pure eating. And that's why we all continue to love this man - just give him the food or he'll get mad. So of course, we wanted to try Banh Xeo 46A, the first place he ate at on the episode. The sight of the cook swirling the batter around in that frying pan immediately got me hot & bothered.

Bourdain's Chomp of Approval

It was 3 pm now. Tired and hungry, we decided to hire two cyclo drivers to take us around. What is a cyclo? If a tricycle and a wheelchair had sex, it would give birth to a cyclo. After the fall of Saigon, anyone that possessed a profession involving intellect was sent to an institution for re-education. The people that were once doctors, lawyers and scholars, sadly started back at square one. According to anonymous-in-law, many resorted to careers of servitude such is the life of a cyclo driver. So we were up for supporting these Centaurs of transportation. They seemed nice and even brought out their guest books filled with testimonials from foreigners.

Cyclo Guys: "Where you guys wanna go?"
Us: "You know Banh Xeo 46A?"
Cyclo Guys: "Yeah! Yeah! You like banh xeo?"
Us: "F-yeah."
Cyclo Guys: "Uh. Okay!"
He smiled at me as I turned away. Under his breath, I could hear him curse in Vietnamese. I would soon find out that the restaurant was like a 45-minute ride away. Oops hahaha!

We hopped in to the cyclo and embarked. I've already seen Saigon traffic from INSIDE a car, with doors and windows to guard my flesh and bone. But now, we were up for the true Saigon street experience FULLY EXPOSED. Here we were in a 3-wheeled rickshaw at the mercy of a skinny guy wearing nothing but slippers for traction on the pedals. He was already unhappy about having to go to another district. Buses, cars and scooters had to swerve past us because we were slowing down traffic. At one point, Mr. Cyclo ran the red light and busted a slow left turn. The opposing traffic was heading towards us at full speed and everybody slowed down for us. I could actually see the pupils of the bus driver. No scratch that, I could see the long nosehairs of the bus driver! All the while, Mr. Cyclo was puffing on his cigarette not giving a damn, going about his day. At 5 mph.

I looked over at the cyclo Jeni was in and we both just shook our heads and laughed. Somehow, after 45 of mins of peddling, the Cyclo Guys got us to our destination. Alive. They smiled, enough to cover up their exhaustion, and told us that they would be waiting for us.

I had watched the Bourdain episode enough to take one look at this place and say "Okay, Bourdain sat right... over... there." Stalker, I know. We didn't sit in the same spot. We parked ourselves on tiny tables and stools and a waiter handed us some menus.

The setup here at Banh Xeo 46A was really simple and very accommodating for the cook. The cook sat on a wooden stool and around her, she set up her command center. She had stacks of plates on the left. The open fire was directly in front of her, along with the food. And on her right, the banh xeo batter in a large pail. Everything was on the ground and as I've learned, this is probably where the Southeast Asian crouch comes in super handy. Why stand and beat up your feet when you can simply crouch, recline backwards and have the weight of your arms balance you without tipping over. It was good on the legs and you could do anything you want in this position: eat, drink, talk, spit, cuss, cook, play cards, anything! I one saw this gangster in Alhambra crouching and smoking on top of a U.S. mailbox in the middle of the day. He looked like a vulture perching 4 feet above the ground. I expected him to suddenly grow wings and fly away into gangster heaven. I never understood why he did that. Anyway, back to the command center. Everything was within arms reach and very convenient for the cook.

I noticed that a lot of stalls used natural fire to heat/cook their food. A dish like banh xeo did not need the 'breath of a wok' so this would work perfectly. This is a slow-cooked dish that has to be done right. Next to the fire was this pail of what I thought looked like Edward Cinema's finest butter. It was probably a really rich stock or some sort of rendered fat, but whatever it was, it was going to make the banh xeo taste real good. I parked it right next to the cook and asked if I can shoot her while she made the banh xeo. She was more than happy to cook for the eye.

Birth of a Banh Xeo Part I
First, she adds some oil and adds a few onions and already cooked pork and shrimp. After a light sauté, she then takes a scoop of her banh xeo batter which consists of rice flour, coconut milk, turmeric powder, water and salt, and adds it to the pan. The coconut milk is key because it gives a nice sweetness and takes away the oily taste of the crepe. She then swirls the pan like an omelette so that the batter is spread throughout the pan in an even form.

Birth of a Banh Xeo Part II
Next, bean sprouts are added and a small lid is placed directly on the bean sprouts for some sauna action. Once the bean sprouts are slightly tender, a scrambled egg mixture is poured over the crepe along with a scoop of that rich stock for extra flavor. A few minutes later, she begins to pry the edges slowly to see that the crepe is browning. And finally when its ready, she takes the banh xeo and carefully folds it in half with the spatula. I remember this folding process vividly from the Bourdain episode. A perfectly cooked banh xeo if you ask me.

Here, banh xeo boy is preparing some veggies for us. A few years back, Jeni and I were in Little Saigon and ordered one. I had never had it and was tired of eating spring rolls and egg rolls. This dish came just as she went to the restroom. This thing was massive – it reminded me of the taco from SNL's "Taco Town" skit. I was so hungry that I just started eating it straight up. Dipping it in fish sauce and gobbling it. About five minutes into it, I was starting to get full and very sick. It was so oily. Never again I thought to myself. Jeni came back and was like "how do you like it?" "It's good but I'm feeling sick." "What? Is it undercooked?" "I don't know, it's just kinda too oily." She looked at the plate of untouched greens and herbs and put her head in her hands. I learned that day that banh xeo tastes much better with herbs and greens, not straight up haha.

As the cook finished up the order, I went back to my seat. Washed my hands with those handi-wipe napkins and prepared for the long-awaited crispy snack. Or so I thought? It had only been two minutes and already, the banh xeo was starting to get moist and soggy. Sure the edges were crispy but the crepe was actually close to falling apart. I quickly took a small chunk and wrapped it up with the necessary fixings, dipped it in the fish sauce dip and took a bite. Hmm. The crunch is slightly there but now there's another problem. The filling was a bit under-seasoned. I double dipped again in the fish sauce and even then, it was only okay. It became better when I opened the crepe up like the hood of a car and threw in some salt/fish sauce.

I love Anthony Bourdain's show but I knew right then that a bit of entertainment magic was thrown in for well, entertainment. I was hooked on going to Banh Xeo 46A after hearing the crunch of the banh xeo. For sure, sound effects were added for maximum crunch or maybe Bourdain got it 30 seconds faster than I did. Whatever the case, ours wasn't Kettle Chip crispy. Pretty funny when I think about it.

I wasn't bummed at all. After all, I was eating in Vietnam which was amazing enough. I knew that if it weren't for Bourdain's visit, this would still do well because its a local favorite. At 90,000 dong, it's on the higher end of the cash spectrum. I'm sure there's way better places out in Saigon. I had a total of 5 days in Vietnam so I had plenty of time to eat great food. Again, this trip wasn't about scouring the streets for the best of the best. For me, it was just about experience. Again, I didn't care, we had a great time!

We said bye to everyone and thanked them for letting us take photos. Our cyclo guys were there still and we jumped back in for another wild ride back to District 1. In a few hours, we would be going after another one of Bourdain's pit stops... the bun bo hue Lunch Lady.

To be continued. Thanks for reading.

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Saigon, Vietnam - Hello Saigon, Nice to Finally Meet You and Eat You

Eat Drink Style Saigon, Vietnam - Hello Saigon, Nice to Finally Meet You and Eat You

Since the first day I was with Jeni, I told her that I wanted to see Vietnam. I had a lot of Vietnamese friends in college and they had introduced me to the Vietnamese culture in Orange County, California. It was one food I enjoyed eating and wanted to know more about it. Both the cities of Westminster and Garden Grove are better known to outsiders as Little Saigon, the largest Vietnamese enclave in California. To Vietnamese immigrants, it was a satellite home with many of the attributes of their country, completely intact. To the group I had met in college, Little Saigon meant occasional visitations to tailor shops to make my own slacks, late nights dining at the old Spire's diner, weekend loiterings at the Asian Garden Mall (Phuoc Loc Tho), karaoke lounges, Vietnamese electronic clubs and of course, a TON of good eating.

In 2007, we had an amazing trip to Yangshuo, China. She was meeting me in Hong Kong via Vietnam, and from there we would take off to Southern China. I was actually more interested in hearing about her trip to Vietnam than introducing her to my motherland of Hong Kong. She promised me that we would go together one day to experience half of her heritage.

It was almost October and we still had not planned our Christmas holiday trip. We had just visited Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay, so we had to stay off the South America track for a little while. If you haven't noticed, our budget has only allowed us to do Central/South America and Asia. We're not at the point where we can get a butt-kicking in places like London, where a burger will cost you nearly $20. $20 in our choice countries goes a long way. So we looked to Asia again. We had the idea of visiting each of our motherlands. She, being Vietnamese and Japanese and me being Chinese and Laotian, we would go for this. I would get to see Vietnam and she and I would see Laos (my father's country) for the first time. We've both been to Hong Kong together and Japan separately, so those were somewhat checked off the list.

A few days before Christmas, we stood at Tom Bradley International wielding our plump backpacks. We said goodbye to her mom and walked into the terminal with a glow on our faces. It was our third Christmas of traveling and time away from Los Angeles – what a feeling that is.

12 hours later, we took a pit stop in Taipei and we found ourselves standing...

in the Hello Kitty Lounge of the Tao Yuan International airport. What sicko decided to build something like this? Pink chairs, shiny murals and checkered tiles. Look what they did to one of the EVA Air planes! If you ask me, it's cute-overload terrorism. Didn't they know that it was narcotics to Jeni and every Asian girl in the world. And that every one of those doped-up girls would make their brothers, fathers, boyfriends and husbands take photos of them. There I stood, taking photos of my adult-wife in front of murals and waiting for her to shop for things she didn't need in the Hello Kitty store. But I didn't care really, because in a few hours, I was about to have an authentic bowl of pho. I immediately forgot where I was and smiled. I must have looked like a still-living-with-parents pedophile, standing there in that Hello Kitty Lounge. The day will come when Hello Kitty becomes an evil dictator, you'll see.

We were back on the plane in a few hours. You know that interactive map channel in planes? I checked it periodically to see how our little white airplane was doing. I love how the cartoon representation makes you forget that you're flying at 500+ mph. 35,000 feet in the air. Over deep oceans. I watched it pass Korea, Japan, Hong Kong... and finally approach Ho Chi Minh City, formerly known as Saigon. We finally landed and I expected the airline attendant to get on the speaker: "Hello, we are now descending into Ho Chi Minh City. To prepare you for the delectable foods of Vietnam, we've begun to pump fish sauce and pho broth into the vents to whet your appetite. Enjoy your time here and don't drink tap water. Thanks for flying with us."

Jeni looked at me and just shook her head. She knew what I was thinking about.
"Hey! Hold on okay? Be patient." I was ready. To eat.

We picked up our backpacks at the carousel and found a taxi driver. Of all the times I've driven or been in other countries, I was not prepared for the type of traffic Ho Chi Minh City is known for. There was traffic EVERYWHERE. Scooters, motorbikes and trucks came from all directions, even towards us, like the city was one big beehive. Some motorists were so close to the vehicle I could have reached out and given them a high-five. And at times, there were people crossing through this madness with caution, yet they seemed relaxed. Jeni looked at me and laughed, "Welcome to Saigon." I sat back in my seat to give my eyes a break from this visual overload and just soaked it all in.

After a few minutes, it just seemed to make sense to me. And I couldn't help but laugh to myself. To any foreigner, this was the end of their life. To Vietnamese, this was the theory of yin and yang in action. It was the norm. Saigon has made me appreciate the beauty of LANES. If the game developers of Gran Turismo run out of ideas for their next game, I've got a suggestion. Racing on a track against other people is easy, but what about adding the obstacle of dodging people, animals and vehicles from all directions. Think of it as an updated version of Frogger.

Here's some footage of us zipping through Saigon. Jeni and I ended up renting a scooter anyway because it was the best way to get around and really experience the city. Plus, we didn't have to deal with shady taxi drivers and cyclo drivers that base their rates on your country of origin. I've heard too many stories of people being locked in a car until they paid the driver's amount. Most people would avoid all problems and just give in. Riding around in Saigon was seriously like driving in a video game. Motorists, vehicles and pedestrians came from all over but there was constant visual contact which made everything work. Like ants in a colony, there was a telepathic understanding. If you wanted your way, you were aggressive about it and honked your horn. It was actually more stressful being in a car because you had to give way to scooters. You didn't have to stop for pedestrians but you swerved slightly to the side of them to let them walk. We had an awesome time. After cruising around, we just found something simple to eat and call it a day. Because tomorrow would be a more focused day of eating. I fell asleep shortly after midnight with an English Premier League game on.

The next day I woke up at around 5:45 am. Not to the sound of my alarm or iPhone, but a LOUD rooster. I smiled and thought to myself, "Only in Asia!" I took a look outside of the guesthouse window and spotted the rooster that signaled the beginning of some good eating. He paced back and forth on a small balcony like a military soldier on patrol duty. All around me, I could hear the never-ending cacophony of street life. People chattering and scooters honking. I showered, got dressed and gave the wife a kiss. Without asking me where I was going, she said, "have fun." Of course, she knows. She's my wife.

At 6 am, life was happening here in Saigon. District 1 of Saigon to be exact. We stayed in an area called Pham Ngu Lao, an area where most backpackers stay. The whole street of Bui Vien, is lined with backpacker-friendly streets. Guesthouses, bars, laundromats, stores selling photocopied collections of Lonely Planet books and non-Vietnamese food. There were food stalls already serving up breakfast to locals. There were groups of men drinking tea and smoking cigarettes. Little children on their way to school. Other clueless foreigners walking around. Honking scooters. Dogs. Cats. Chickens. All minding their own business.

I saw this wedding car right outside the guesthouse. I looked behind to watch groom and his groomsmen carrying a large roasted pig in front of a small complex. They laughed as they beckoned their way into the bride's home with their crispy dowry. I've seen this done at family gatherings but this was happening at 6 am on a busy street on a Wednesday. It was beautiful.

Vietnamese Beef Noodle Soup (Pho Bo)
I walked no more than three blocks before I found my first victim. I had my first bowl of pho in 1987 and 23 years later, I was going to have my first bowl in the country of Vietnam. I hoped it would be as special as eating a real bowl of wontons in Hong Kong. When we were heading to our guesthouse from the airport, I stared at every business that had the word pho in it. From a dictionary, the word pho, with the correct accent marks also means things like "to escort/assist", "a deputy", "to show off" or "snowy". None of these words matter to me. Like any street with heavy competition, the employees at this corner pho restaurant waved me in with their hand gestures and stuck a menu to my chest. It was 6 am and way too early to go running around the city for a convincing bowl of pho. All the food I saw on the street looked convincing.

I was directed by the owner to a stool right in front of the "kitchen". The "kitchen" consisted of a four-wheeled, metal table with a glass display case and shelving. There was also a large steamy pot in the middle of the table for cooking noodles, a chopping board and a folded counter top enough for four patrons to digest their meal. All along the display case were the assorted goodies from the cow you could choose from. At this particular pho stall, they only offered rare beef, brisket, tendon and beef balls. Behind the cook, was the soul of the restaurant: a huge cauldron of pho broth.

The owner came by with a plate of bean sprouts and thinly sliced orange/yellow chilies that were quite fiery - not jalapenos. For condiments, there were two small tin jars with the orange chili sauce we know as Sriracha and brown hoisin sauce. Both of them tasted different than I expected. The "Sriracha" had a sweetness to it and the hoisin was much lighter in strength. I watched the cook as he prepared the bowl of noodles in under one minute. I added a few slices of the chilies and black pepper and first dipped my feet in the water. The broth was very light in color and strong in spices. It was very good and much different than any bowl of pho I had back at home. It was very light and had a homeyness to it that made me finish all the soup - I enjoyed it. I took a taste of the brisket which was excellent, due to low & slow cooking and the usage of free-range cows we pay more money for here in the U.S. This wasn't the best bowl of pho I've eaten but I wouldn't think twice about eating here again at 6 am with locals on a crowded street. It was humbling. Especially when the bowl only cost me $1.25.

Vietnamese Style Sandwich (Banh Mi)
In Los Angeles, Latino street vendors have their taco tables and shopping carts loaded with Gatorade/Igloo coolers. Here in Vietnam, they've got a luxurious table with glass display case and wheels. This is basically your Subway on wheels - minus Jared. Almost all vendors of banh mi had this set up. You've got your bread, loaves of Vietnamese meatloaf (cha), roasted pork, cheese, dried pork sung, huge block of liver paté and condiments. Underneath, you've got cabinets for storage and a portable gas stove to fry up some eggs for that special banh mi with fried egg. I watched the banh mi lady preparing a dac biet sandwich (literally means special, "the works"). She first smacked on margarine, mayonnaise and a heavy serving of pate. Next she laid out two pieces of the roast pork (i think it was pork butt, rolled up, tied with twine and then roasted) and two pieces of the Vietnamese meatloaf (cha lua). Then the pickled veggies and cilantro were added, followed by a nice dosage of Vietnamese soy sauce (aka Maggi Sauce) and chili sauce. This foot-long banh mi set you back $0.75. Some vendors had a coal oven that they warmed the bread in. It tastes so much better when toasted. Jesus.

It was now my turn to order and I knew this because the lady gave me a blank look with her hands out. With no knowledge of the Vietnamese language, I employed the point-and-order technique which always works. I ordered the dac biet minus the cheese and chili sauce. But with a fried egg (trung chien), because life is always better with a fried egg! She knelt down with a grunt, opened up the cabinet drawers and flipped on her portable stove. She scrambled the egg, added some margarine and cooked up my eggs rare and juicy. I stopped her while she bagged it, and she gave me a puzzled look. No point in wasting plastic because that banh mi was going to have the lifespan of no more than 5 minutes. I paid her and she and her baby daughter watched as I devoured it. I gave her a thumbs up and she responded with no facial expression. And we both lived happily ever after.

I saw this lady for the next few days and dubbed her the "Gangster Porkchop Lady" (thit nuong gangster). She always wore that hat, protective glasses and a mask - ready to do some surgery on me. All you needed was some Snoop playing in the background. With the mask I could never tell if she was smiling. She more or less looked like she was dogging me. Probably saying stuff like, "if you don't fucking buy a pork chop, i'm going to kill you." JK, she was really nice. We are now in the same gang and have each other's back.

Vietnamese Beef Stew with Rice Noodles (Hu Tieu Bo Kho)
If you're into food like I am, you try your best to remember the names of each culture's food, as well as know its pronunciation. I learned how to read the phonetic Korean alphabet JUST so I could order food off their menu. With Vietnamese, it's pretty much a romance language with squiggly accent marks. So when I stood in front of this stall like a stranger walking into the Cheers bar, the cooks and patrons all turned around to stare at me. For about three seconds, there was complete silence as people stopped eating. From where I stood, I could see something orange in the soup pot. It smelled like beef, tomatoes and carrots and could only mean one thing. As soon as I said the words "bo kho?" came out of my mouth, everyone smiled and welcomed me. I got the go ahead to join the pack.

I sat next to an older woman who was hunched over her bowl of Vietnamese beef stew. She smiled at my cluelessness and probably wondered if I knew what the hell I was doing. If you haven't had this dish, you'll usually see it served in a thicker form with some toasted French bread in Vietnamese restaurants. This is a take on your basic French stew cooked with red wine, but in my opinion, even better. The Vietnamese version omits red wine, and uses fish sauce and a crap load of star anise. I was handed my bowl and the woman next to me (pictured above) immediately pointed to the condiments I had to add in. Some fresh chilies, a scoop of hot chili sauce, some herbs and lastly, a hard squeeze on a lime wedge. I have to say, this was even more appealing to me than the pho I had up the street earlier. The broth was very light in tomato flavor and the beef was done just right. The noodles were fresh and silky and went really well with the fresh herbs. This cost me $1. I drank all the soup and thanked the older woman for helping me eat this the right way.

Vietnamese Rice Sheets (Banh Uot)
This is a favorite of mine. I first had this at the Asian Garden Mall (Phuoc Loc Tho) in Westminster when I was 12 years old. To this day, I still go back to the same exact vendor for this dish called banh uot. It's probably not the best, but it's nostalgic. Thin, slightly translucent rice sheets are cut into large segments and served with generous slices of Vietnamese meatloaf (cha lua), a deep-fried cake with mung beans (banh cong), herbs and bean sprouts. All doused with the all-mighty sweet and sour, fish sauce dip, nuoc cham. I call this a happy meal.

I never get tired of this dish for its simplicity and lightness. You'll eat it and wonder where it disappeared to. Behind where I was sitting, there were about 4-5 motorists waiting on the side for their "drive-thru" order. The owner wrapped up everything in one plastic bag and tied it up with a rubber band. How fun it must be to eat this straight out of the bag. This was a choice stop for locals and I could see why – it was delicious. The rice sheets were the thinnest I've seen, the meatloaf was great and the fish sauce was tasty enough to swim in. J was sleeping at the time I was eating this and I quickly ran back to get here to try this. She and I used to pick up fresh banh uot sheets at the Thai Son store in Little Saigon, and I knew she would love this. We came back an hour later and the carnival had disappeared, vanished into oblivion.

A few weeks later at an airport in Hanoi, I saw this airport sign letting us know what we could NOT bring back. And to my surprise, I find the lovely Vietnamese meatloaf on the roster. It was too funny. Was it a narcotic? I wouldn't be surprised for its addictive taste.

You don't know this, but all the places I ate at this morning were all within 2-3 blocks of each other. As I learned, and you will too, good food is not hard to find in Saigon. Not at all. I told Jeni about the places I ate at and she knew I was very happy. I was very impressed with the food and quality here and loved that I could turn the corner and find a local gem. This was going to be one memorable tasting for us. And So far, Saigon has been good to me.

Thanks for reading. Bourdain's visit with the lunch lady, Vietnamese crepes and a Vietnamese restaurant with a great concept... up next.

Eat Drink Style The Sriracha Cookbook

Thoughts on the new Sriracha cookbook? To be honest, it's like selling a book called "Food You Can Add Hot Sauce To". I don't really know many things that would taste worse with the addition of Sriracha. But the truth is, Sriracha is a universal and magnificent sauce and I love the story of the Tran family. In some restaurants, you'll find this on the table instead of ketchup. It's THAT mainstream. Even Latino restaurants use this as a "quickie" salsa. Growing up in college, I added Sriracha to my beef franks and called them "chili dogs". To really make your "Italian" food taste better, a few shots of Sriracha really boosts up your tomato/pasta sauce. And my favorite, Sriracha and Maggi sauce on fried eggs - amazing. That'll be the day when I publish a book on Maggi sauce.

Eat Drink Style The Pig & The Butcher

Warning: Video isn't for everybody.

A reader (thank you Saori) sent me this poignant, yet powerful video of a butcher and his pig. It's shot beautifully and laced with the moving sounds of one of my favorite groups, Kings of Convenience. I thought this was done very well.

Eat Drink Style Carlsbad Aquafarm - An Oyster Purveyor

My first encounter with a raw oyster was about eight years ago and I remembered feeling curious and anxious as I stared at this soft, slimy-gray creature that resembled a bodily organ. It was peacefully floating in a bed of salmon roe and fresh uni, and drowned by a nameless sake. It wasn't on the half-shell but it was definitely a real oyster. My friends passed the glass to me and we all held it up in a strange, gratuitous toast to friendship and whatever oceanic concoction brewing in my glass.

First, the taste of the cheap sake. Gross.
Second, an avalanche of salty salmon roe and mushiness that is uni. Mmmmm.
And finally, the soft foreign object that feels like an oblong egg yolk. *Gag*

This is the point in time where your brain has the finger on the gag reflex switch in your body. It will either project the foreign object as your eyes well up in tears, or it will let it go down smoothly like a fat kid on a water park slide. But instead of swallowing it all, I sank my teeth into that creature as though I hated it. And to my surprise, my eyes lit up in sheer happiness. This. Was. Delicious. I watched as my other friends uttered their enjoyment for that same oyster. The next question I asked was, "can we do some more?" We ended up ordering oysters on the half shell, not that circus bullshit in the glass. And it was that day that I developed an appreciation for one of the world's most unique, pure and delicious foods – the oyster.

To me, there is nothing hotter than a raw bar. Unadulterated food, tasty beer and good company – that's all that's needed for a good time. As an oyster predator, I love eating at Swan Oyster Depot and Bar Crudo in San Francisco, Grand Central Oyster Bar in New York City and of course, Los Angeles's Hungry Cat. I also heard that Anisette in Santa Monica has a decent raw bar. But the problem is, eating oysters outside can prove to be a bad move during this recession. J wasn't too happy with my $90 tab at Grand Central Oyster Bar... a place that touts over 38 types of oysters and nearly 200 types of wine. Bad bad bad!

But I found an economic solution to one of my many bad habits. J and I were checking out the Hollywood Farmers Market for the first time a few weeks back and like a person seeing Machu Picchu through the sharp, jungle brush for the first time, I found what I was looking for: a vendor selling fresh oysters on the spot.

Carlsbad Aquafarm, located in uh, Carlsbad, comes to the Santa Monica Farmers Market on Saturdays and Hollywood Farmers Market on Sundays. Rob of Carlsbad Aquafarms drives up each day at 5 am with a van full of seafood candy. On this day, Rob had four types of oysters on display: Catalinas, Lunas, Carlsbad Blondes and Endless Summers. In addition to oysters, CA offers California Ocean mussels, Sunburst clams, medley mixes and live scallops (call in advance and he'll bring the following week).

The going rate for a half dozen oysters on the half shell is $15. Not good considering I can do at least 18 on my own in a single sitting. But thanks to candyman Rob, you can bring home a dozen oysters for only $9.99. That's $0.83 a piece vs. $2.50 a piece outside. For $2, you can sample any of CA's oysters.

That day, I ended up buying 3.5 dozens of oysters and threw them in a cooler. I immediately called my oyster friend/ramen whore friend, Rameniac, and explained to him the deeds that needed to be done today. 2 hours later, Rameniac and his friend showed up. We headed over to Silver Lake Wine for something to pair with the oysters. George, formerly the sommelier at Campanile, immediately knew what to recommend. I told him the oysters were briny with a cucumber finish. He suggested these.

Muscadet Sevre Et Maine

What's interesting about this wine is that, like oysters, these grapes are grown in the area where the rivers meet the oceans. This is an area that is not too cold nor too warm, and for oysters, this is the optimal condition for proliferation. According to George, this is a favorite with shellfish.

Paco & Lola Albarino

I don't know why he picked this one. Maybe because the label is kind of cool and the fact that it's from the Basque Country. This one has a strong floral aroma which would be good with an oyster that is delicate in taste.

Before moving on, I wanted to talk about the 'process' of eating an oyster. I learned about this from the wonderful book A Geography of Oysters: The Connoisseur's Guide to Oyster Eating in North America by Rowan Jacobsen, and it changed the way I eat oysters.

There are three things that happen as you eat an oyster.

(1) As you hold the oyster, you taste the liquor first. And it'll either be sweet or briny.

(2) You then use a fork to push the oyster into your mouth and then you chew 2-3 times. The second your teeth come down on the oyster, you'll experience a nice pop like the yolk on a sunny side up egg. You want the internal fluids to spill out and you want to feel its texture. And it'll be a sweet or creamy taste.

(3) Once the fluids mix with the liquor, there will be a final finish.

If you completely down the oyster and liquor without chewing, you've missed the whole point of eating an oyster. And the usage of lemon juice and mignonette is most ideal for eating oysters because saltiness/brininess is cancelled out by citric acid. Horseradish and hot sauce will mask the integrity of the oyster.

Endless Summers

Rob remembered me and immediately offered this to me because he didn't have it last time I was there. If you go up to the photo with Rob holding the oyster shell, that's the Endless Summer. And it's huge. They are typically deep cupped meaning the oyster has more room to grow and has a lot more liquor, which people love or hate. Upon opening this, you can't help but back up a little. Although it's not as big as a Belon (shell the size of a hand!) or European Flat, this would definitely be in the 3-bite tier. I got the oyster ready for the 3-step process.

(1) Very briny liquor.
(2) Fresh, crunchy texture. Like a very weak bamboo shoot.
(3) Strong cucumber finish. Wow. The reason a lot of oysters will have a melon finish, according to Rowan Jacobsen, is that the starches produced in the oysters have the same molecular build as that of a melon.

Lunas

Like the popular Kumamoto oyster grown in California and Pacific Northwest, these are mildly fruity and sweet. These are very easy to eat and usually considered the 'introductory' oyster. Lunas have a similar taste and to me, they are almost thinner and smaller than Kumamotos.

(1) Mildly sweet liquor.
(2) Soft texture. Not much bite.
(3) Light, sweet finish. These are small and have a very delicate taste.

Carlsbad Blondes

These oysters are called 'blonde' because their shell is more yellow vs. the green/brown shells you usually see.

(1) Mild, briny liquor.
(2) Soft texture.
(3) Very light metallic taste. But right away, a soft cucumber finish that isn't as pronounced as that of the Endless Summer.

Catalinas

These are similar in size to the Carlsbad Blondes.

(1) Mild, briny liquor.
(2) Medium texture.
(3) Soft cucumber finish.

After an hour and a half, we had 39 oysters and 2 bottles of wine. And we could've had more. Much more.

Say hi to Rob and his candy of the sea on Saturdays at the Santa Monica Farmer's Market and on Sundays at the Hollywood Farmer's Market.

***
What are your favorite oysters? And if you're from outside of Los Angeles, please share the names of your local oyster goldmines.

Thanks for reading.

Carlsbad Aquafarm
4600 Carlsbad Blvd
Carlsbad, CA 92008
(760) 438-2444
Tours offered from M-F 8am - 5 pm
www.carlsbadaquafarm.com

Eat Drink Style Finally Home from Southeast Asia

We're finally back home from our amazing trip to Southeast Asia. Eighteen days, six cities and a ton of photography... hope to make you drool over your keyboard. The people were friendly (for the most part) and the food was excellent.

Also, did you know that Vietnam has its version of Yelp!? It's cleverly named, Yup!. Check it out.