Without knowing any more than that there was a Vietnamese restaurant on the main street of Old Town, Alexandria, Virginia, where my sister's friend had had the best meal of her life, my sister, Sharon, and I set out to eat there, too. We didn't know exactly where Old Town was, and even after we found it we weren't sure which street was the main street or which way to turn on it if we found it. Finally, we stopped at the Amtrak station to find a telephone book. [NB: This was way back then, before cell phones.]
"But what are you going to look up?" I asked Sharon. "We don't even know the name of the restaurant."
"Vietnamese. Under 'restaurants,'" she answered smartly, and there they were (as they were not in the Grants Pass phone book), restaurants listed by national cuisine—but no Vietnamese restaurant in Old Town Alexandria.
"I'm going to ask the station master," I said, in an effort to try the more familiar, Grants Pass, method of seeking information.
"Ask him what?" Sharon retorted, but what I asked was what the main street was called. He told me it was King Street; what was I looking for? I said, "A very fine Vietnamese restaurant," and he said, "Oh. The Sang Dong. It's only four block from here."
Feeling pretty smart for having found the restaurant where Ann had had the best meal of her life, we drove the four blocks, parked the car, and walked in, were seated and given menus. Aghast, we looked at each other. This was Thai food. We were very hungry and wondered briefly if we should just eat here. Together we folded our napkins on the table and walked out.
"I can't imagine anyone I'd rather be dong this with," Sharon said warmly as we got in the car and continued down King Street, reading the name and, more importantly, the nationality of each restaurant we passed.
"There it is!" Sharon cried and swung around the corner. There were no parking places, and we were hungry, so she parked in a taxicab stand.
Vietnamese cuisine, according to the explanation of the menu, combines the gourmet quality of French cooking with the cutting techniques and rapid cooking of the Chinese culinary art. It is, as indicated by this restaurant, utterly delectable. I had marinated shrimp and scallops, skewered. Sharon had braised fish in a ginger sauce. We shared a bottle of Chardonnay. Was it the best meal we had ever had? We ruminated on the question. Sharon said she had once eaten a simple omelet and salad in a tiny restaurant in the south of France that would be hard to beat.
"What about the dinner you and I had together in the Greek restaurant in Atlanta?" I reminded her.
"Yes, that was very good," she agreed.
But is it the food or the company and the occasion that make a meal exceptional? I doubt that Ann ate here alone when she had the best meal of her life or that she was mad at her husband that evening. Sharon and I laughed as much in the Greek restaurant as we were doing here in the Vietnamese restaurant. It was true that this Vietnamese dinner with its accompanying French wine was particularly exquisite, but it was also true that the company was delightful. Finally, replete, we pushed our plates aside and asked for a cappuccino. When it came, it came with a brandy, on the house. Was it because we were so obviously having such a good time that the management treated us to a brandy? We left agreeing that maybe it was the best meal we had ever eaten. Even a parking ticket didn't dispel our bliss.
Marvelous restaurant, the best meal of your life. The East Wind Restaurant. On King Street in Alexandria, Virginia. Old Town. You can find it.
Next week: "Literary potluck"
Recipes from this post:
(Although I don't have recipes for the exact foods Sharon and I ate that night in the East Wind restaurant, I offer the following three recipes as examples of Vietnamese cuisine.)
Beef with shrimp sauce and lemon grass
Braised fish in caramel
Ginger sauces
BEEF WITH SHRIMP SAUCE AND LEMON GRASS
serves 4
Ingredients
4 stalks fresh lemon grass, or 4 tablespoons dried lemon grass
4 shallots
4 cloves garlic
2 red chili peppers, seeded and minced
3 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 pounds lean ground beef
2 1/2 tablespoons shrimp sauce
freshly ground black pepper
1 cucumber
Coriander sprigs, for garnish
Preparation
If you are using fresh lemon grass, discard the outer leaves and upper half of the stalk. Slice the lemon grass thinly and chop it finely. Otherwise, soak the dried lemon grass in warm water for 1 hour. Drain it, and chop it finely. Thinly slice the shallots and mince the garlic. Seed and mince the chili peppers. Peel, halve, and slice the cucumber into 1/4-inch slices.
To make
In a mortar or blender, pound or grind the lemon grass, shallots, garlic, chilis, and 1 teaspoon of the sugar to a fine paste. Heat the oil in a wok or large skillet over moderately high heat. Add the paste and stir-fry until fragrance arises, about 1 minute. Add the ground beef and stir to break up the lumps. Cook until the beef is browned, about 5 minutes. Add the remaining 2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons sugar. Reduce the heat to low and keep stirring for 5 minutes, or until the beef is lightly caramelized. Add the shrimp sauce and stir for 3 minutes longer.
To serve
Transfer everything to a serving platter and sprinkle with black pepper. Serve over rice with the cucumber slices, garnishing with coriander.
BRAISED FISH IN CARAMEL
serves 4
Ingredients
1 - 1 1/2 pounds mackerel or eel, bone-in, about 1-inch-thick steaks (I've used catfish, and it was delicious.)
Coarse sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon thick soy sauce
3 tablespoons fish sauce
6 ounces daikon
2 large cloves garlic
2 scallions, trimmed
3 dried red chilis
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
3 ounces fresh ginger
Preparation
Peel the daikon and slice it into thin rounds. Peel and lightly crush the garlic. Trim the scallions and cut them into 1 1/2-inch-long pieces, quartered lengthwise. Peel and julienne the ginger.
To make
Season the fish steaks with salt and pepper on both sides. Make a caramel by combining the sugar and 2 tablespoons water in a large pot over medium-low heat. Let the sugar melt without stirring it (though you might swirl the pan every once in a while). When the sugar turns golden, in about 10 minutes, remove the pot from the heat and stir in 1/3 cup water, the thick soy sauce, and the fish sauce. Reduce the heat to low and add the daikon, garlic, scallions, chilis, and fish steaks. Cover and simmer until the fish is cooked through, about 20 minutes. Meanwhile, heat the oil in a saucepan over high heat and stir-fry the ginger until golden crisp, about 2 minutes.
To serve
Remove chili peppers. Transfer the braised fish to a serving platter and scatter the ginger over it. Serve with rice on the side.
GINGER SAUCES
1. Ginger dipping sauce
yield: 1/2 cup
Ingredients
2 cloves garlic
1 - 1 1/2 tablespoons sugar
1 fresh red chili pepper
1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger root
1 lime or lemon
3 1/2 tablespoons Vietnamese fish sauce
Preparation
Crush the garlic cloves. Seed and mince the chili pepper. Grate the ginger root. Squeeze the lemon or lime to yield 2 tablespoons fresh juice.
To make
Combine the garlic, sugar, chili, and ginger in a small bowl or mortar. Crush the mixture to a paste. Add the lime juice and fish sauce and stir to blend.
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| This might be the same sauce as in the photo above. And either could be from either recipe |
2. Ginger fish sauce
yield: 1/4 cup
Ingredients
2 teaspoons small pieces fresh ginger root
1 fresh red chili pepper
1 clove garlic
2 teaspoons granulated sugar
5 teaspoons fish sauce
1 tablespoon water
1/8 fresh lime
To make
Put the ginger into a mortar with the red chili pepper, garlic, sugar, and fish sauce. Pound everything to a paste with a pestle. Squeeze the juice of the lime into the mortar, then remove the pulp of the lime section with a small knife and add it to the paste. Add the water. Mix well. Serve with fish.
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