36 Hours in Vung Tau, Vietnam

After disappearing for a few weeks, I'm back. Well, sort of. I've been buried under various work- and writing-related commitments (i.e., teaching a new class, critiquing people's writing, freelance stuff, etc.), and I'm also trying to rewrite a 300-page novel before the first writing conference I've ever attended begins. I've really wanted to post something to my blog, but I just haven't been able to devote much time to it. I hope people understand!

I do have one piece of good news to share -- the Honolulu Star-Bulletin has told me it wants to publish a food reminiscence that I wrote about Vietnam, though they're not sure when it will fit into their publishing schedue. It's an 800-word essay with photos. Oh, and it includes a Vietnamese recipe one of my friends in Saigon gave me. Whenever it comes out, I'll post a link to it here. And maybe I'll even post the original version of the essay, which is about 1600 words, with a lot more photos thrown in.

What I'm posting now is a travel piece I wrote in the hope that the New York Times would be interested in it for their "36 Hours" series of travel articles. Not surprisingly, I never heard from them about my submission. But rather than let it gather "dust" on my hard drive, I thought I'd put it up here.

I hope to be back in full blogging mode one of these days. Unfortunately, it may not be for a while yet. Thanks for your patience, and I look forward to seeing what my blogging buddies have been cooking and eating recently!

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36 Hours in Vung Tau

Vung Tau Bay at dusk

By hydrofoil, the southern coastal town of Vung Tau is hardly far enough from Ho Chi Minh City for travelers to grab a catnap. Arriving in Vung Tau after the 75-minute journey, the first thing you notice is the wide, curving bay filled with fishing boats so colorful you may wonder if a fleet of tankers carrying oil paints simultaneously ran aground there. Forested mountains hug the long coastline; French colonial mansions dot the foothills. A luxurious marble pathway greets visitors along Front Beach. In the mornings, sidewalks gleam with fresh catches of fish sold to passersby. On the rocks that the early tide has exposed, women scrape away at stubborn, clinging shellfish.

Freshly caught fish piled on a Front Beach sidewalk

Monday

1 p.m.

1) BEGIN AT BAI SAU

Bai Sau is the most popular beach in Vung Tau. If you look closely, you can see Vung Tau's Jesus statue atop the mountain.

Dump your luggage in your hotel room and head straight for some fun in the sun. Among the various beaches within reach of Vung Tau, Back Beach (Bai Sau) is by far the best option. Its wide beaches and sandy dunes stretch down the coast over six miles, and on the weekdays you needn’t go far to have the beach to yourself. Even on weekends, when multitudes of Saigonese descend on Vung Tau, stretches of Back Beach can remain serene and sparsely populated. The ocean here, clean but not azure, is usually calm enough for swimming, and Thuy Van Road, which fronts Back Beach, is dotted with restaurants that specialize in seafood.

5 p.m.

2) FAST TIMES ON FRONT BEACH

Front Beach seen from a distance in the early morning

Front Beach (Bai Truoc) is the most tourist-friendly section of the city, and also the most architecturally eclectic, to put it mildly. The area is built up with local shops, a variety of budget and mid-range hotels, and Vietnamese and international restaurants, bars, and cafes. Every night locals throng the seawall along Tran Phu Street to watch the sunset. Taxis scour Front Beach for tourists, particularly around the ferry terminal, making the area a good base for exploring Vung Tau’s environs. Front Beach itself is quite walkable, however, and from there to Tran Hung Dao Street, which is closer to the heart of the city and bustling with local activity, it only takes about fifteen minutes.

7:30 p.m.

3) DELICIOUS AMBIENCE

Eating under the wave at Ganh Hao

If you’re an exotic food gourmet, you can’t go wrong here. I’ll even go out on a limb to declare that Vung Tau offers some of the very best dining in Vietnam, and Ganh Hao (03 Tran Phu Street; 84-64-550909; www.ganhhao.com) is Vung Tau’s crown jewel of gustation. Ganh Hao easily ranks among the best seafood restaurants in Southeast Asia, both for its menu and its ambience. Luckily for visitors, Ganh Hao’s management hasn’t realized they have a world-class restaurant on their hands, and their menu remains startlingly affordable, even cheap. Their baby oyster spring rolls (cha gio ganh hao), as well as their house seafood salad (goi hai san ganh hao), will leave you swooning, wondering how the jade waters lapping at the restaurant’s seawall could produce anything that delicious.

Tuesday

9 a.m.

4) A LIGHTHOUSE AND A VIEW

Hai Dang Lighthouse

For a structure built nearly 150 years ago, Hai Dang Lighthouse is certainly aging well. (A much needed paint job in 2007 helped.) Rising fifty-nine feet from the top of Small Mountain, its powerful beacon, generated by a rotating Fresnel lens, sweeps out every twelve seconds almost thirty nautical miles. Ask the guards on duty for a quick peek inside and you can explore the lantern and gallery at your leisure. There’s also much to admire in the lighthouse’s cylindrical, rocket-shaped design as well as the panoramic views from its brick-tiled platform.

10 a.m.

5) I THOUGHT I WAS IN VUNG TAU

The Christ of Vung Tau statue. Notice the people peering down from the statue's left shoulder.

Familiar with Rio de Janeiro’s Christ the Redeemer statue? Well, Vung Tau has one, too. Standing thirty-two meters high, with outstretched arms that span more than eighteen meters, the Christ of Vung Tau rises prominently from the back of Small Mountain, where it overlooks the South China Sea. Vietnam’s minority Catholic population makes pilgrimages here, but even on non-pilgrimage days it’s a popular destination. The climb to the statue is worth the toil and sweat, but don’t be disappointed when you reach it and see that more climbing – 133 winding, vertiginous steps up an interior staircase – is necessary to stand on the statue’s arms. Sunset is a lovely time to visit, but scores of other people will probably have the same idea.

12 p.m.

6) BUDDHIST INSPIRATION

Reclining Buddha at Thich Ca Phat Dai Pagoda

For an entrée into Theravada Buddhism in Vietnam – not to mention another good workout – make a stop at Thich Ca Phat Dai Pagoda (45 Tran Phu Road) on the north side of Small Mountain. Completed in 1963, Thich Ca Phat Dai has become a site of pilgrimage for its enshrinement of Buddhist relics, including a branch from the bodhi tree beneath which the Buddha attained enlightenment. A nineteen-meter high pagoda, white cement statue of Sakyamuni seated on a lotus flower, and a reclining Buddha are also big draws here.

2 p.m.

7) PRACTICE THAT SWING

If your idea of relaxation is swatting golf balls around well-manicured lawns and then chasing after them in motorized buggies, you’re in luck. Paradise Golf Club (1 Thuy Van Street; 84-64-823-366) is one of Vietnam’s higher rated golf courses and has 27 holes to play on. The 18-hole course is a 6830-yard, 72-par challenge, with distractingly beautiful seaside views. If whoever you’re traveling with doesn’t care for golf, Paradise offers plenty of diversions in the form of water sports, tennis, and a restaurant. Weekday green and caddie fees cost $70; add an additional $30 for weekend play.

7 p.m.

8) A FAVORITE FOR FRESH FISH

Seafood salad (goi cat bien) at Cat Bien Restaurant

Forget about your approach shot on the seventeenth hole that landed squarely in the ocean and let yourself refuel at Cat Bien Restaurant (38 Quang Trung Street; 84-64-512-421). Take advantage of Vung Tau’s always fresh seafood and order goi cat bien (a seafood salad with crushed peanuts, fresh herbs and veggies, and spicy fish sauce) or cua ghe nuong rang me (grilled flowercrab in tamarind sauce). This is an old favorite of local Vung Tauans, and tourists in the know smartly show up with hearty appetites. Dinner for two: $7-$10 before drinks.

9 p.m.

9) I’LL DRINK TO THAT

Coffee and complementary jasmine tea at O Cap 1 Cafe

If coffee is your thing, Vietnam will feel like coffee heaven. In Vung Tau, a gratifying number of open-air cafes, some three stories high and peeking through a jungle-like setting, offer an extensive menu of coffee, tea, beer, and wine, as well as views of Front Beach and the boat-filled harbor. O Cap 1 (90 Ha Long Street; 84-64-511-083) is a good choice, particularly when the sky and bay grow dusky and the café’s decorative lights wink on.

Friday

9 a.m.

10) BANH KHOT BREAKFAST

I can almost promise that if you try banh khot it will become an instant breakfast favorite

For those who find themselves on a budget after overspending in Ho Chi Minh City, you have nothing to fret about, especially where your stomach is concerned. One of the most delectable breakfasts you can have in Vung Tau is banh khot, a grilled rice pancake topped with fresh shrimp and chopped scallions, which you dip in fish sauce mixed with slivered green papaya, carrot, and assorted fresh herbs. The place to go is definitely Goc Vu Sua (14 Nguyen Truong To Street). They open at 6 a.m. and don’t close until their last customer leaves.

10 a.m.

11) VILLA FOR A KING

Villa Blanche overlooks Vung Tau and its colorful, curving bay

Call it what you like – Villa Blanche, White Palace, or Bach Dinh – this French colonial mansion and its sprawling grounds are worth the 5000 dong (29 cent) price of admission. Times have certainly changed since 1859, when the site was a military emplacement from which Vietnamese soldiers fired cannon shots at French warships passing through the bay. The French later built Villa Blanche here for the Governor General of Cochin-China. Look for the Hellenic statues on the outer walls of the villa and, beneath the wide terrace, old cannons aimed toward the sea and collecting rich green patinas beneath beautifully gnarled, tropical almond trees.

THE BASICS

Vung Tau easily makes for a doable day trip from Ho Chi Minh City, but it’s also a pleasant weekend retreat, with numerous beaches and sightseeing opportunities. Hydrofoils shuttle between Ho Chi Minh City and Vung Tau every half hour (160,000 dong each way).

Binh An Resort (1 Tran Phu Street; 84-64-510-016; www.binhanvillage.com) feels like a sumptuous European spa, but its true magnificence lies in its classic Vietnamese touches. The spacious grounds burst with bougainvillea and fruit trees, and all eight rooms overlook the ocean. On the resort’s north end, a charming lighthouse rises from a cliff; beneath this, a grotto has been transformed into a beautifully appointed seaside piano lounge. Doubles start at $89 a night.

The elegant piano lounge -- built into a grotto -- at Binh An Resort

Vung Tau’s resort scene has been kicked up a notch with the 2006 opening of the 63-room Ho Tram Beach Resort and Spa (Ho Tram village, Phuoc Thuan ward; 84-64-378-1525; www.hotramresort.com). Golf, clay-court tennis, pool swimming, and tropical spa treatments are just a few of the on-site activities. About 25 miles from Vung Tau, a double here runs $103 a night, including buffet breakfast.

For the historically curious, the Grand Hotel (2 Nguyen Du Street; 84-64-385-6888; www.grand.oscvn.com) is Vung Tau’s oldest hotel. Built by the French, popular with U.S. soldiers during the war, and recently renovated, the Grand Hotel manages to retain its old French charm. Standard doubles in this 80-room hotel go for $60 a night.

Buri To Daikon No Nimono (Simmered Japanese Yellowtail and Daikon)

Japanese yellowtail (buri) and daikon simmered in mirin, soy sauce, sake, and sugar. The garnishings are Japanese parsley (mitsuba) and slivered ginger.

After a bit of a hiatus from the blogosphere, which may be extended due to other commitments, I want to share a really tasty recipe that brings back to me vivid memories of Japan. In Japan there is a kind of yellowtail fish called buri, which, oddly enough, I seem to remember being introduced to in Bien Hoa, Vietnam, about fifteen years ago -- impossible, probably, and yet whenever I have buri I flash back to the Vietnamese countryside and the woman at the campus canteen with whom I had a meal plan of sorts. Maybe I'm finally losing it...

In any case, buri to daikon no nimono is a great recipe for any time of the year, but it's particularly an excellent wintertime dish. Perhaps I say this because I remember having it in Japan as snow drifted past the windows like pure white macaroons, and to keep warm everyone huddled around the kotatsu surrounded by cups of hot sake. There's really no better atmosphere for this dish, but hey, we can't always be so lucky, right?

This is truly an amazing dish. The daikon becomes tender with cooking, absorbing the mix of flavors like nothing else can, and pairs extraordinarily with the sweet, deeply flavorful yellowtail. This is also one of those dishes that tastes even better on the second day, after the daikon has had additional time to be transformed by absorbing more of the sauces and yellowtail juices.

Ingredients

3 yellowtail (buri) fillets

2 medium daikon

4 slices ginger root

Salt

Water from washed rice

Ginger, cut into long strips

Mitsuba leaves (Japanese parsley), chopped

This dish uses two sauces, which are similar to each other but not identical.

Sauce #1

1 teaspoon dashi powder

1/2 cup sake

3 tablespoons mirin

3 tablespoons soy sauce

2 tablespoons sugar

Sauce #2

1/2 cup sake
2 tablespoons mirin

2 tablespoons soy sauce

1 tablespoons sugar

Directions

1. Cut fish into large bite-sized pieces. Salt pieces lightly on both sides and let sit for 30 minutes.

2. Pour boiling water over fish, then rinse with cold water.

3. Peel daikon. Cut into 1 or 2 cm wedges. Boil in enough water (from the washed rice, preferably) to cover daikon, adding a tablespoon of rice if you'd like, for 15 minutes. After boiling, drain daikon. Let it cool, then pat dry with paper towel.

4. Pour into a pot the sliced ginger and sauce #1 and bring to a boil. Add fish and cook for 15 minutes.

5. Add sauce #2 and simmer for 5 minutes.

6. Add daikon. Cook on low heat for 30 minutes or until light brown. (At this point, taste the daikon to make sure it has absorbed the cooking flavors.)
7. Serve with ginger strips and chopped mitsuba.

Okara Chicken

Homemade tofu and grated ginger with a side dish of okara chicken

Cooking with okara -- the pulpy byproduct of tofu and soy milk -- is a great way to make your meals more nutritious. Okara has been used in many Asian cuisines for centuries, and vegans and vegetarians in the West have recently started to embrace it as a source of protein and calcium.

There are a variety of ways to cook with okara. If you have access to it, or if you make your own tofu and aren't sure what to do with this byproduct, there are lots of dishes you can either supplement with or base on this foodstuff. For anyone interested in cooking with okara, make sure to visit http://okaramountain.blogspot.com. Here you'll find great ideas for using okara in your breakfast (okara cherry almond muffins anyone?), lunch (how about smokin' okara chili?), dinner (how does okara lasagna sound?), and even for snacks and appetizers (e.g., okara hummus?).

The following okara recipe is normally made as a side dish rather than a main course. There's a grittiness to the okara, and while it's generally a flavorless addition, some people find it a little bitter. In this dish, it definitely changes the texture of the cooked chicken and vegetables.

You can sometimes find okara at Asian markets, but it's often hard to find because its shelf-life is so limited. Okara is best used on the same day you make it, though it should be okay to cook with for the next couple of days as well.

Ingredients

1 stick gobo (burdock root)

3 shiitake mushrooms

4 whole carrots

1 lb boneless chicken thighs

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

3-4 cups okara

1/4 cup sake

1 1/2 teaspoons dashi powder

2 cups water

3 tablespoons sugar

4 tablespoons mirin

4 tablespoons soy sauce

Green onions, chopped

Directions

1. Wash gobo about 5 times, then peel and cut into small slivers. Soak in a bowl of water for 15 minutes. Drain.

Slivered gobo soaking in water

2. Soak shiitake for 30 minutes. Chop finely.

3. Peel carrots. Cut into narrow strips and then chop into small pieces.

4. Cut chicken into bit-size pieces.

5. Heat oil in wok. Cook chicken until you can smell the meat cooking (should be slightly browned).

6. Add carrots, mushrooms, and gobo. Cook for 3-5 minutes.

7. Add okara, sake, dashi powder, and water. Cook for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent burning.

You can use as much or as little okara as you like. We used the entire amount that was produced from making tofu.

8. Add sugar, mirin, and soy sauce. Continue cooking until vegetables are tender.

Okara chicken, ready to serve and eat!

9. Garnish with green onions. Season to taste.

Homemade Tofu, Soy Milk, and a Vietnamese Ginger-Tofu Dessert

In Honolulu, I regularly pay more than I can stand for 12 oz. blocks of tofu and half-gallon containers of soy milk. After tax, the former usually costs around $3 and the latter around $6. I easily go through this much tofu and soy milk in a week, which means that in a month I pay around $40 for these two products alone. I decided to look around Honolulu for tofu molds but came up empty handed. After my fruitless two-week search I headed online, and in a matter of seconds I found a Connecticut-based company that carries what I was looking for. Although the mold cost $40, and shipping an extra $20, I figured that if the product wasn't a scam I could recoup that total in a couple of months.

Well, my tofu mold arrived yesterday afternoon. I was taken aback by how small it was, but was pleased that it came with several packs of nigari -- a coagulant derived from sea water and also known by the unappetizing scientific name of magnesium chloride -- and two cheesecloths for straining. (The mold, incidentally, is made from hinoki, or cedar wood, and its fragrance is like an early spring walk in the woods.) In the evening I went shopping for organic soybeans. (For those living in Honolulu, I found these at Kokua Market, 2643 S. King St.) A pound of these hard little yellow beans went for a mere $2.19. I splurged for a pound and a half and then raced home to soak my fresh new beans in water overnight.

I awoke at 6:30, and bam, it was tofu time! I unfolded the directions that came with my tofu mold and in 90 minutes I'd made two slabs of fresh tofu. What's more, it was delicious! Admittedly, it was too soft to cook with, but its softness made it perfect for a dessert I learned to love in Vietnam that uses hot ginger syrup (see below). There are many Japanese desserts that use soft tofu as well, so you can guess what I'll be eating after my meals for the next week or so. And not just that, but one byproduct from tofu-making is okara, which can be used in various dishes, too. (But more on that in a different post.)

With my second batch of beans I made soy milk. And one reason I'm sharing this is because I want people to know that they, too, can make soy milk without a tofu mold, and it's very easy to do.

Homemade Soy Milk Directions

1) Soak about a pound (400 g) of soybeans in water for at least 8 hours. (In the winter, soaking times are almost twice as long.)

2) Put soaked soybeans in a blender along with 3-4 cups of the soaking water.
3) Blend until the soybeans and liquid have reached a smooth, milkshake-like consistency.

4) Boil 7 1/2 cups of water. (I might recommend more water than this, as the soy milk that results tends to taste fairly strong.) Pour blended soybean mix into water and stir constantly until boiling again. Turn off heat and let mixture cool for about 3 minutes. Then simmer mixture for 7-8 minutes on medium heat.

5) Pull cheesecloth over colander and set colander in a large bowl or on a deep pan.

Pour mixture into cheesecloth and strain soy milk from solids. Keep the solids (okara) for use later in cooking.

A colander isn't necessary when you strain out the soy milk. I used

one in case I inadvertently spilled anything.

This is the okara, or the solids that remained after I squeezed the soy milk from the cheesecloth. Okara is incredibly nutritious and should be used within about two days.

If you only want to make soy milk, pour the liquid into a container and keep refrigerated until ready to use. Since the taste will be a tad bitter, you may want to dilute the milk with water, or add sugar, or both.

A cup of fresh hot soy milk

If you want to make tofu, however, continue on to step 6.

Directions for Making Tofu (continued from steps 1-5)

6. Add nigari coagulant (or substitute with 1.5 tablespoons of lemon juice) to soy milk and let sit for around 30 minutes. You will immediately see the soy milk curds separate from the whey. The more you stir it at this stage the firmer your tofu will end up. (I need to remember this for next time...)

7. Pour mixture slowly into your thin cheesecloth-lined tofu mold.

Fold the cheesecloth over the tofu and fit the top of the mold over this. Distribute between 2-5 pounds of weight over the top and let it sit for 15-30 minutes until the water is pressed out of the tofu.

Remove the weight and top of tofu mold, then unfold and peel your cheesecloth from the tofu.

Agh! It's hideous, I know...but it tasted good. I'm hoping that future

attempts will teach me how to make it turn out looking better.

Place tofu into bowl or Tupperware container and cover with cold water.

For whatever reasons, homemade tofu doesn't last nearly as long as the store-bought variety.

Ideally, you should use fresh tofu within just a few days of making it.

Mine turned out quite soft, which meant that I really couldn't use it for cooking. With the soft tofu that I had, I decided to make a simple dessert that I used to enjoy straight from the pots of sidewalk vendors in Vietnam. It's called đậu hủ gừng, which is basically soft tofu with a sweet and spicy ginger sauce served warm. You can make this with any soft tofu available at your local store or market.

Đậu Hủ Gừng

2 cups water

1/3 cup brown sugar

1 2-inch piece of ginger, cut into 1/4-inch wedges and crushed

12 oz. soft tofu

1. Add water, sugar, and ginger to a small pan, stir to dissolve sugar, and boil for 12 minutes. You can add more ginger and boil longer to give the sauce more of a kick. You may also want to include more water to dilute its sweetness.

2. Pour sauce hot over tofu and enjoy.

A bowl of soft tofu in a sweet, hot ginger sauce

Many of you have probably heard of recent studies indicating that tofu eaten in middle age may increase the likelihood of dementia or even brain shrinkage in later life. This may or may not be true. And until scientific research definitively bears one or the other truth out, I'll continue to eat tofu and drink soy milk, the more so now that I'm able to make it at home.

For anyone interested in the tofu mold I bought, the product can be found at http://www.simply-natural.biz/Tofu-Kit.php

And for a video on how to make tofu (or soymilk), this may prove useful:

As a final word, I just want to mention something about the cost savings I'm expecting to enjoy with my new tofu and soy milk making capabilities. Without looking into this all that carefully, I'm guessing that I spend close to $450 a year on these foods (roughly $9/wk), but I should be able to get by spending less than $150 (less than $3/wk) for the soy beans necessary to make them myself. Saving $300 isn't going to change my life, but it is a nice way to save a little money. And what's more, in a year I'll end up with close to 100 pounds of uber-nutritious okara to cook with, all as a byproduct. I'm not sure if so much okara is a good thing or not, but I guess I'll find out soon...