Seven years ago, South Bay diners faced Vietnamese menus that
read like this: Banh cuon Tay Ho DAKAO Gia Truyen van nhueng mon
an thuan tuy Viet Nam khac. And that was the cover page.
Vietnamese restaurants at the time served home-style cooking to
mostly Vietnamese patrons. If the menu offered English translations,
they were skimpy at best.
Suddenly Silicon Valley has fine dining, Vietnamese style,
bursting out all over. You can sit down to contemporary
California-Vietnamese fare at stylish restaurants from Palo Alto to
San Jose's Evergreen area to Los Gatos. In the past year, not a
great one for new restaurants, six upscale Vietnamese eateries have
opened.
Nearly a decade after the trade embargo with Vietnam was lifted,
enough travel has occurred to whet appetites for a new take on
Vietnamese food. And nowhere is it more obvious than in California,
with its access to fresh produce and reputation for culinary
envelope pushing.
``Sushi was very hot 10 years ago. Then it was Thai food. I think
this is just the next thing,'' said Anne Le, co-owner of Tamarine
restaurant in Palo Alto, which opened last year.
Emblematic of the change is Citronelle on San Jose's mercantile
Winchester Boulevard, where the signature dish is turmeric fish and
the California Culinary Academy-educated chef is working on a
lemongrass osso buco. Truc Dam and his sisters Mai Pham and Hong To
opened the restaurant in 1995, but back then it was called Pho
Saigon. An extensive remodel this year retained pho, the
classic meal in a noodle soup, but otherwise upped the ante.
``For Vietnamese fine dining, we used to have to go to San
Francisco,'' Dam said.
Even with the second-largest Vietnamese population outside
Vietnam, the South Bay had fallen behind.
``We wanted to change Pho Saigon for two years,'' Dam said.
``Green Papaya started the trend in Los Gatos'' in late 1999. ``But
we were late in San Jose. Seattle had upscale Vietnamese restaurants
much earlier. Even Sacramento did.''
In the postwar years, rather than trying to attract
non-Vietnamese diners, San Jose restaurants catered to the large
Vietnamese community.
``And they have certain expectations,'' Dam said. ``They know
what Vietnamese food looks like and tastes like.'' For the first
wave of Vietnamese immigration, eating out was just about the
convenience of not cooking. ``Now we want to dine,'' he said. ``The
success of Tamarine helped a lot.''
Nighly crowds
The toast of Palo Alto has set the bar very high. Tamarine took
over a jinxed location, hired a renowned restaurant design team and
showcased dishes like ginger chicken salad. Even in this sour
economy, it's packed night after night.
Proprietor Le has a marketing background. Her partner, aunt and
executive chef, Tammy Huynh, has her own restaurant, Tam, in
Milpitas. (Originally it was Pho Tam, but Huynh decided that name
was too restrictive.) Their family also runs the Vung Tau dynasty of
family-style Vietnamese restaurants in Fremont, Milpitas and San
Jose.
``Five years ago, at Vung Tau you wouldn't find many
non-Vietnamese,'' Le said. The family originally opened a 32-seat
Vung Tau on San Carlos Street in San Jose in 1985. Within two years,
they moved to the current location on Santa Clara Street,
quintupling the capacity.
It took a while to get over the Vietnam War's aftermath, she
said. Besides the daunting menus, there were Western misperceptions:
``No, we don't serve dog and cat.''
In Le's view, the most successful restaurants in the new wave of
fine Vietnamese dining have given a California spin to traditional
Vietnamese cuisine. Textures, especially, can stop Western palates
cold. The shrimp-stuffed rice cupcake called banh khot that's
served in Vietnam is gooey and slimy inside. Huynh modified the dish
by simply making it 3/4 of an inch deep instead of the traditional 1
1/2 inches. It still has sweet shrimp inside and crispy shrimp
flakes on top, but it's cooked through.
``At Tamarine, the flavors are very traditional,'' Le said,
listing essentials such as kaffir lime leaves, lemongrass, mint and
basil. ``And they are fresh and healthy. We don't want people to be
distracted by textures.''
But in trying to attract Western diners, restaurants run the risk
of offending traditionalists.
As Diana My Tran, author of ``The Vietnamese Cookbook'' said from
her shop in Washington, D.C.: ``It has to be right. In some cases,
food gets too Americanized.'' Some restaurants use scallions instead
of cilantro on the pho, or use plain lettuce instead of mint
with their spring rolls. ``People who don't know won't miss
it.''
Martin Yan, chef, author and TV personality, dismisses those in
the anti-fusion camp. He suspects that when Wolfgang Puck was
starting out, people harped about a classically trained Austrian
chef inventing pizzas. ``Some people are very provincial,'' said
Yan, whose next television series will be filmed in Vietnam. ``If
you adhere to the essence of a cuisine -- the basic spices and
techniques -- while learning to appreciate new ingredients, the more
the merrier.''
Yan's own childhood proves this out. Growing up in China, he
said, ``I never saw broccoli or asparagus. Now every Chinese
restaurant has them.'' Not to mention eggplant, snow peas,
watercress and chile, all introduced to China.
With 1,000 years of Chinese domination, Vietnam closely reflects
that giant neighbor's cooking techniques and eating methods, such as
the use of chopsticks. Many ingredients, including star anise, lotus
root and daikon radish, are shared. From 1883 until after World War
II, French rule left a tradition of culinary finesse.
``Vietnamese foods are lighter and more refreshing than many
Asian cuisines,'' Yan said. ``The fresh ingredients are more
acceptable to Western palates. The look of it is very
familiar.''
As Yan sees it, tourism to Thailand brought a boom in Thai
restaurants in the United States, and the same thing is now
happening with Vietnam.
Original fusion food
With all its neighbors and conquerors, Vietnamese cuisine may be
the original fusion food. Many of the flavors -- fish sauce,
galangal, palm sugar -- are similar to Cambodian, Malay and Thai
cuisines. The Portuguese introduced chile peppers. And, in the
south, many herbs and spices come from India.
Silicon Valley's newest contemporary Vietnamese restaurant,
Dragonfly, opened last month in San Jose's Evergreen area. Among the
features are a solid granite bar serving sake-based martinis and a
``rock 'n' roll'' version of the traditional seven courses of beef,
easy to share on one platter for $12.
As Dragonfly's executive chef Huey Hubris put it, ``I don't know
if it's a good time for a new restaurant, because of the economy.
But after two generations, it's time to bring California and
Vietnamese cuisines together.''