195 | Ever-Green Vietnamese

I don’t remember exactly when I started following author Andrea Nguyen online, but I know that I was quickly drawn in—and not just by her friendly personality and chatty, accessible writing style. I like her inventiveness, adapting available ingredients in the way people do in an adopted homeland, but also her habit of drawing attention to undersung or simply less familiar (to American diners) Vietnamese dishes. Take her use of green cherry tomatoes to mimic tiny eggplants in a lemongrass pickle recipe, or her spicy tomato tofu, a riff on a tasty dish that I found to be ubiquitous at lunch spots throughout small-town Vietnam but have almost never encountered on a menu in the United States. Yet I’d somehow never consulted one of Nguyen’s many cookbooks until this year.

Ever-Green Vietnamese is a natural entry point for me; I first learned to cook as a vegetarian and, having done no small amount of research on animal farming, am extremely particular about sourcing any meat that I now cook. Nguyen’s own shift plantward was motivated, as she explains it, more by health concerns than planetary ones, but she also reflects that this shift, contrary to what you might think as you consider the menu at your favorite Albuquerque phở shop, ultimately brought her closer to her cultural roots. Eating chay in Vietnam is more versatile than the translation vegetarian typically implies, encompassing a spectrum that stretches from religious abstention to flexitarian to hardcore vegan. Likewise, Ever-Green is not a strictly vegetarian cookbook, but it is heavily plant leaning, and, for most of the recipes that include fish or meat (or their derivatives), she offers plant-based alternatives.

Given that Nguyen has authored two books about tofu, and given tofu’s widespread use in Vietnamese cooking, it’s not surprising that it’s the predominant plant-based protein that appears here. For anyone with preconceived ideas about tofu based on that one not-such-a-great-cook hippie friend’s recipe, or for anyone who’s struggled to cook it well or to move past their single, solid, go-to tofu dish, Ever-Green Vietnamese offers lots of options, with tips on how to maximize flavor absorption and, just as importantly, get the texture right.

That Nguyen is also a teacher shines through: This is not one of those cheffy cookbooks where following an excessively detailed recipe to the letter results in an expensive, overwrought failure that brings you to tears. It feels rather more like the product of a well-oiled test kitchen. Indeed, Nguyen describes investing three months of trials in developing her recipe for peppery vegan bologna. There’s also a fishless spin on fish sauce, a vegan sate sauce, a mushroom-walnut paté that I might like better than the traditional, and, of course, a variety of Vietnamese-style pickles. Such components form the backbone of much Vietnamese cooking, and of this cookbook, which, rather than including recipes for one or two takes on bánh mì or bún, offers blueprints for these adjustable classics, outlining the must-haves and optional additions for a good sandwich or noodle salad.

The bright, zingy flavors of Vietnamese cooking tend to rely on a lot of prep work (and fresh herbs), but Nguyen is tuned in to the reality of the workweek, and alongside recipes that call for multiple components and ones for more complicated, multistep dishes like from-scratch bao sliders and delicious, crispy bánh khoai, there are recipes for stir-fried vegetables and playful but straightforward salads. This is a clear, open book, with the feel of a beginner’s guide—whether that be a beginner to cooking Vietnamese, a beginner to cooking without meat, or both.

Who’s Your Source?

My first tip for using this, or probably any other, Vietnamese cookbook: If you haven’t already, and even if you just have porch space for a single large pot, plant an herb garden. Basil and mint do particularly well here; Vietnamese coriander and shiso too. Cilantro bolts quickly in the heat of a New Mexico summer, but that is widely available and at prices that won’t cause you to balk at the quantities called for in many a Vietnamese recipe.

For specialty ingredients, the usual recommendation is to visit Talin Market in Albuquerque or the Santa Fe Asian Market. You should be able to find most any ingredient Ever-Green calls for at those mainstays. Also in Albuquerque, the 999 Seafood Supermarket, across from the Gateway Center on Gibson, carries a vast selection of Vietnamese and other Asian ingredients (and cookware), including a sizable seafood department and a slightly intimidating frozen foods section. You can find frozen lá lốt leaves, dried black fungus, Nguyen’s favorite brands of rice paper, all varieties of Asian noodles, vinegars and oils, spices and sauces, ten-pound sacks of jasmine rice, and a wide array of bagged produce, including lemongrass, bean sprouts, fresh herbs, eggplants, and greens of all kinds. English is not widely spoken here, but Nguyen provides enough tips on sourcing to guide you even if you’re unable to communicate with the supermarket staff.

Mission

The Bite satisfies a hunger for provocative, artful, community-minded, diverse stories about the raw, the cooked, the distilled, and the fermented. We strive for inclusion and a wide range of perspectives in our coverage of the New Mexico food and drink industry, sparking readers to veer out of their comfort zones and into the open territory of the region’s culinary landscape.