I’m relatively new to the world of banh mi. Growing up in a small town in Nova Scotia meant that I had little exposure to all the exotic cuisines of the world. As a chubby eleven year old I liked to watch non-cable (we had no need of frivolities like cable, we had the great outdoors. Right?) cooking shows such as ‘Wok with Yen’ and James Barber’s classic ‘Urban Peasant’, so I did know that foods aside from the ubiquitous meat n’ potatoes or fish n’ chips did exist, I just hadn’t had much experience with them. The inaccessibility of these wondrous and delectable-sounding foods made them that much more appealing, of course. I began trying to cook some things on my own, but was usually over-zealous with seasonings (due to an inability to follow recipes that haunts me to this day), so had varying degrees of success.
I first experienced Vietnamese cuisine at the age of thirteen or fourteen when we visited my father’s friend in Ottawa for several days. Dad’s friend was married to a lovely Vietnamese woman named Lam, and I swear, everything this woman cooked turned to gold (edible gold, of course). I remember feeling in awe of Lam at dinnertime, and being even a little jealous of her two young kids and husband, who were able to eat her cooking everyday. And they didn’t even seem to be particularly thrilled about it! My brothers and I helped Lam a bit with food preparation (peeling vegetables, etc.) and I even accompanied her to the market in Chinatown one day. I was impressed by how powerful being able to cook can make one. My brothers and I still talk about Lam’s cooking occasionally, twelve years later. I was hooked.

When I finally did move to city life for the first time at twenty-one, I was thrilled to see all the cheap and wonderful choices available. A roommate introduced me to pho (soupe Tonkinoise in Montreal!) and five years later I’m helplessly devoted to the wonder that is banh mi. How can a simple hand-held meal be so tasty and so good? Why does anyone in an urban area continue to eat at Subway? (sorry, Subway) Crunchy baguette envelops your choice of meat (or other protein) and sweet and savoury sauces, with cilantro and fresh chili peppers for kick, and do chua for crunch. Do chua are those beautiful orange and white pickles that top banh mi and accompany other Vietnamese meals and snacks. They are carrot and daikon, quick-preserved in a simple sweet-sour brine. I have seen them range in size from very thin strands to very thick (blocks? logs?), and I like them all.

These do chua pickles use somewhat less sugar than usual, I think, and I cut my veggie pieces a bit finer, ’cause that’s how I like them. They are fantastically crunchy and are going very quickly; bigger batches might be in order. I haven’t as yet made my own banh mi (they are only $3.25 and really good just down the street from my house!) but will do soon. I like this pickle with just about any type of meal– we’ve had them with Japanese food, they are great in Korean kimbap, on the side with noodles or pasta, just about whatever you fancy.
Do Chua, Vietnamese carrot-daikon pickle
2 small carrots
1 small to medium sized daikon
2 tsp salt
1/3 cup sugar (I used palm, white is likely better)
1 cup white vinegar, rice vinegar, or a combination of the two
1 cup water
Julienne the carrots and daikon uniformly, to a size that pleases you. Rub the pieces with the salt and a little of the sugar for several minutes, until they wilt a bit. They will release their juices; pour this out. Squeeze them gently, and pour out as much of the liquid as you can. Transfer to a strainer, and rinse under cold water. Squeeze them out gently again. Mix remaining sugar with the vinegar and water, and stir until all the sugar has dissolved. I sterilized (by boiling) my jar and lid beforehand, as I am a germophobe, but it probably isn’t necessary, as it will be stored in the fridge. Transfer carrots and daikon to jar, and pour in the brine. Make sure all the veggies are covered with brine so they will properly pickle.
Enjoy!
These should keep for about a month in the fridge, but shouldn’t last that long.
Tags: pickles, Vietnamese

[...] sunflower sprouts, 1/3 of a sliced avocado (which I love in hot soup), and a few flower-shaped daikon and carrot pickles, which were mostly for [...]