Flip side of the recipe

In the past month, I've learned to make three dishes directly from Auntie.  And they're good. I don't know if it's because all the ingredients are organic and the animals have been slaughtered just hours before – or if Auntie is that good.  It's probably a combination of both.

• Pate - Raw ingredients: a red slab of liver, milky pork skin, pork shoulder and spices. Grind all that up into a mishmash and then steam it for a couple of hours, about the same amount of time that it would take you to check your email, work-out, and watch American Idol. I've smeared this home-made stuff on fresh baguettes on many gray mornings. Great with coffee.
• Bun cha (Grilled pork noodles) - Fresh herbs, lettuce, cucumbers, carrots and radish. Tender pork slices and patties, marinated to perfection, drizzling fat over an hot coals.  Served with a clear nuoc mam dipping sauce and hand-made vermicelli.
• Pho (oxtail noodle soup) - Not the canned stock copycat crap found in restaurants. No, this is the real thing straight from the master. Chunks of fist-sized cow bones, simmering in a stock of ginger, star-anise and beef juices for at least a day – all the marrow and fat and meat gushed into the soul of the dish – the broth.  Fresh herbs, lemon, and peppers. Thin slices of sirloin paired up with chunks of cooked beef, ready to release their flavors. Hand made noodles, soft enough to melt in your mouth, white enough to balance out the bright colors of the garnish and the dark meats.When all the ingredients are in a bowl and the broth is finally poured over – sangri-la.

Of course, part of the lesson is to go to the market, bargain with the vendors, and pick out the best ingredients from the stalls.  The best time is early in the morning, when the fresh seafood, meats, and vegetables have just been delivered to the vendors – before the crush of the buyers and visitors and decent bargains can be found.

When I say "I learned" I really mean "Yuppienomad learned" from Auntie.  I wake up just late enough to smell the aromas swirling around in the kitchen.  Poor girl.  In Confucian communities, there are understood roles for women and men.  Apparently, Vietnamese women cook, clean, and, in this modern age, contribute to half the household's income.  Vietnamese men take siestas, congregate at the local bars for lunchtime drinks, and taste their wives' cooking -- in between newspaper reading, TV watching, self-pity sessions and so on.

Suffice to say, I've been doted on, stuffed with food, and have gained untold admiration whenever I offer to help around the house.  Yuppienomad, meanwhile, has endured:

"Dear, watch the meat, or it's going to burn.  You have to watch closely, now."
"Do you want to stay back as Uncle and jfisher take tea in the living room? We can clear the table and clean up a bit. Oh, let's cut up that papaya there.  Do you know how to cut fruit?"
"Here, hold the bottom of the pot like so; pour a little water in -- is it hot? Good, then tip it slightly.  Good -- that's the proper way to pour tea!"
"j.fisher is ladling the broth! Look how great he is. Amazing!"
"Has j.fisher awaken yet? Did you give him the fruit we bought for him at the market?"

And so on.

I am enjoying my days here, very much so.