Vietucky
Louisville is fond of its food & drink. Much of what I love to eat can be had here, not to mention other forms of native, new-to-me goodness. Loo & I expected as much, but grew concerned for the harder-to-find faves we’d taken for granted in New York.
Wading through the fish mongers of Canal Street, to narrower, less-traveled channels like Bayard and Baxter Streets, you’ll land upon a strip of Vietnamese noodle shops. On cold days, their neon signs are obscured by foggy windows–the bustling kitchens and rapid phò’ slurping inside part of this cozy effect.
Reminiscent for that face-full of noodle steam and the heat from Huy Fong Sriracha (known to many as Rooster Sauce for its most excellent mascot,) we sought out those Vietnamese corners of Louisville that many lifers here had promised existed.
We spent about a week exploring new parts of town, cookbooks, spices, herbs and sauces.
Highlights include Corn and Coconut Fritters, Lemongrass Beef Skewers and the very exciting, New Year’s Eve appropriate “F2.” (If you happen to be working on a GE Profile Series gas oven, be advised that the F in F2 is code for “fire,” while the 2 stands for “I see you’re ignoring the first warning I gave you?!” So, yeah, um, if you plan on leaving a baking pan full of beef fat under a raging broiler, have baking soda on hand.)
Corn and Coconut Fritters (Cha Bap Ran)
A guest suggested hitting these with powdered sugar, which would work, but the recommended dipping sauce takes these somewhere else entirely. I chose to include this recipe for its across the board appeal with li’l kids and less adventurous guests.
- Lightly process 1 C. of corn until the kernels lose their shape and begin to hold together.
- Add 1/4 C. of coconut cream (not milk,) 1 lightly beaten egg, 1/3 C. flour, 1 1/2 t. cornstarch, 1/2 t. salt and 1/2 t. sugar. Let stand for a 1/2 hour.
- While you wait, prepare the simple dipping sauce. Mix 2 T. Huy Fung Sriracha chile sauce, 2 t. water and 1 t. of sugar.
- Fire up about an inch of canola oil. Keep it at 350. Mold about 2 t. of batter and slide it into the oil. The batter may feel loose, but will quickly firm up in the oil. (Add a few pinches of flour if you prefer to work with a denser batter.) Give them about a minute and a half per side, or until golden brown. (You’ll know when.) Drain and serve with the sauce.
(C. = cup, T. = Tablespoon, t. = teaspoon.)
Happy Tết!
So, it’s not Tết yet (Vietnamese New Year). That’ll actually be on February 14th. But my man and I decided to jump ahead, and bring in 2010 – Viet-style. We recently picked up Andrea Nguyen’s Into the Vietnamese Kitchen, and she inspired the menu for our New Year’s Eve party, also known as the excuse to test out our new basement beam by dancing all over the living room with family and friends to Pandora’s Teen Pop station. (My nieces are 11 and 10, and it’s no accident that I’m their favorite Aunt). Anyway, VK is my kind of ethnic cookbook, lots of explanation and no holding back on authentic ingredients. I’ve heard that Louisville has a substantial Vietnamese population, and I’ve eaten delicious noodles at the renowned Vietnam Kitchen, but I’ve never been shopping for fish sauce here (Viet Huong’s 3 Crabs is the preferred choice of Ms. Nguyen), so we’re off!
- Valu Market - This is the catch-all mecca for international foods in Louisville. It’s pretty savvy for a chain to adapt to its location and influx of immigrants. Valu even has a Bosnian section. I’ll definitely be back to take advantage of their live local bass tank, but no 3 Crabs fish sauce, so we move on to some specialty stores.
- Dong Phuong Grocery (6705 Strawberry Ln) – Don’t be fooled by the beer signs plastering the front window, there’s no Budweiser here, in fact, the fridge lining one wall of this former corner convenience store is empty. What this place does have are honest-to-god Chinese and Vietnamese goodies. The small aisles of shelves that formerly held Funyuns and cases of Big Red are now filled with dried black fungus and multiple types of fish sauce including 3 Crabs! And then Christian spots another score. In a dusty box perched high on a shelf holding plastic restaurant noodle bowls is the rinkiest, dinkiest piece of aluminum equipment that will allow us to gloriously steam rice, wontons, even a whole fish. Usually 35 bucks for a 3 tiered one this size, but we get it for 20. Our entire tab was was under $25 and I finally got to feel like I wasn’t in Bluegrass country, although I must admit, the only other white customers we saw went straight for the lottery tickets. Oh well – more rice sticks for us.
- Vietnam Oriental Market (5019 South 3rd Street) – Yeah. This is the F’in spot. As soon as we walked in, I smelled it. New York City. Chinatown. Fish sitting out in buckets of ice, large white, silky, squid already cleaned, and bags and bags of unnamed herbs and exotic vegetables. I’m pretty sure I’ll find any Asian ingredient I desire. Frozen snails, check. A Vietnamese radio soap opera (I think) is blasting from vintage speakers across the expansive room. This is a place that forces you to ask questions, forces you to interact with someone who speaks English as a second language, forces you to realize that when it comes to food, the world is huge and the possibilities are endless. It’s how New York used to make me feel, and it’s a relief to know that I can find that sensation here in Louisville, Kentucky.

