Sampling Vietnamese Cuisine with Juilliard Graduate Florence Paget and Savvy Mom Ruth Paget
My family’s many Vietnamese restaurant outings in Monterey, California were the product of my meals at Chicago’s Mekong House in the 1980s and Vietnamese meals in Paris’ Vietnamese restaurants in the 1990s. (Vietnamese restaurants outnumber Chinese restaurants in Paris, since Vietnam was once a French colony as part of Indochina.)
When we moved to Monterey, I noticed the Orient Restaurant
while shopping and took my daughter Florence to it for lunch on what was the
first of several Friday afternoons when she got out of school at noon.
“What kind of food do they have there?” Florence asked.
“They have Mongolian beef,” I responded knowing that I had
mentioned the one exotic food item that Florence liked from Chinese dining
adventures as well as Korean ones where we ate bulgogi, which resembles
Mongolian beef. She preferred Mongolian
beef to burgers and fries.
“The Vietnamese actually beat back the Mongols from their
country twice,” I continued.
“Who are the Mongols again?” she asked.
“Horse riders who ruled from China to Persia,” I responded
with my quick historical summary of the Mongol hordes.
“Why do they have Mongolian beef at a Vietnamese restaurant,
if they beat the Mongols?” Florence asked.
“They serve both Chinese and Vietnamese food, because that’s
what their customers want,” I said.
When we arrived at the restaurant, an altar with a four-foot
high laughing Buddha and a three-foot high vase full of sunflowers greeted us
at the entrance. The pale green
restaurant walls and black, marble-top tables showed that they were prosperous.
I ordered lemongrass chicken, and Florence ordered Mongolian
beef. When Florence tasted the Mongolian
beef, I asked her what she thought of it.
“Spicy,” she said as she moved a red chili pepper off to the
side of her plate. The green onion
looked the same as what goes into Chinese Mongolian beef, but the Orient’s
version was saucier and had mushrooms and bamboo shoots in it. It came with rice.
“Is it a little sweet like bulgogi?” I asked.
“No, but I like it. I
don’t mind spicy food,” she said. She
had inherited my liking for hot and spicy food.
“Try the lemongrass chicken,” I said, putting a nugget on
her plate. She put it in her mouth and
grimaced. I like slightly sour foods,
but Florence does not. Lemongrass chicken
arrives at the table sizzling with the aroma of chilies, garlic, and citrus in
the air. I like the out-of-the-ordinary
ingredients.
“They have a Buddha on their altar,” Florence remarked as
she finished her meal.
The altar held many things: incense sticks in a bowl full of
sand, cups that looked like egg holders which were full to the brim with a
clear liquid probably a rice wine, a stemmed platter of mangos stacked in a
pyramid, rose-colored silk tulips, two electric candles, a bowl of rice, and a
statue of long-haired, bearded Taoist Immortal.
On the way out after our meal, Florence bent down to look at
the altar that was on the floor while I picked up the take-out menu.
“Is the guy with a beard Buddha, too?” she asked.
“He’s a Taoist Immortal; someone who lives forever,” I said,
fending off trying to explain Taoism, which believers themselves claim is
unknowable.
“Did you know that people who believe in the Tao find doing
everyday things beautiful?” I said and smiled.
“What do you mean,” Florence asked.
“Doing stuff like buying groceries, doing the laundry,
cleaning the house, and going to school are all beautiful for someone who
believes in the Tao,” I said.
Florence looked at me and said, “Doing laundry isn’t
beautiful.”
“It is if you like clean clothes,” I responded.
Florence shook her head and said, “You’re weird, mom.”
“Weird and happy,” I retorted. “Can’t you think of one ordinary thing that
you could call beautiful?” I asked.
“I guess eating lunch,” Florence answered.
“Exactly like eating lunch,” I said as I pinched her
cheek. I liked having time to take my
daughter out to lunch.
By Ruth Paget - Author of Eating Soup with Chopsticks and Marrying France
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