Cooking Fortune
Be adventurous when sampling the exotic
Vietnamese dishes at 9 ROSES.
By Sara Roahen
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At 9 ROSES, waitress Phuong Nguyen (center) and owners Anna and Jeff
Nguyen provide diners with all the distinct flavors of Vietnamese cuisine.
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WHAT: 9 Roses
CUISNE: Vietnamese and Chinese
WHEN: Breakfast, lunch and dinner Thursday through Tuesday
WHERE: 1100 Stephens St., Gretna 366-7665
CARDS: Major
The fortune cookie I cracked open after a recent dinner at 9 Roses restaurant
read, "You will soon be involved in many gatherings, parties and
communications." Retroactively, this was true; the cookie was the final morsel
I could squeeze into a stomach filled with an impressive amount of authentic
Vietnamese cooking. At a table surrounded by fellow fans of the distinct
Southeast Asian cuisine, I had spent the evening in gastronomically foreign
lands, laughing, swapping straws, bumping elbows and clanging chopsticks over
sizzling skillets, simmering bowls, bubbling tureens and smoking hot plates of
what the Vietnamese term "party food."
My suggestion for newcomers to Vietnamese cooking, for diners who
stick to the only menu item they know, or to parties of more than one person
who are game for a playful and enlightening experience, is to share a selection
of party-type dishes.
Unlike their Chinese neighbors, the Vietnamese employ loads of
uncooked vegetables. Salads are an integral part of most meals and always
commence a dinner party. 9 Roses' chicken salad (goi ga) is a perfect example
of such simple and fresh ingredients: boiled and pulled chicken, and a julienne
of mint and shredded cabbage tossed with a heavy hand in a vinaigrette of rice
vinegar, sesame oil, red chili and fish sauce. Fish sauce (nuoc mam) is to the
Vietnamese what soy sauce is to the Chinese and is much tastier than its name
implies. Fresh anchovies are layered in wooden barrels to ferment with salt for
six months, producing a sauce redolent of the sea but not overly fishy.
Move on to thin slices of beef (bo nuong vi) marinated in garlic,
sesame seeds, oyster sauce and five spice powders (Szechuan pepper, cinnamon,
cloves, fennel seeds and star anise). They arrive raw alongside a plate heaping
with red leaf lettuce, fresh mint, pickled carrots and cucumber slices. On a
flame-heated hot plate, saute the beef to your taste. Then, roll the slices
like a miniature burrito in rice paper with the vegetables; before eating, dip
it in a thick fish sauce swimming with dices of pineapple. Like many Vietnamese
concoctions, the experience is at once meaty, crispy, salty, fruity and
aromatic with garlic and ginger.
Vietnamese fondues operate under a similarly interactive principle.
We briefly submerged raw squid, shrimp and beef (bo, tom, muc, nhung dam) into
a pot of sugary, simmering rice vinegar floating with ginger and lemon grass.
Fishing everything out quickly, we then rolled it like the hot plate beef
above.
Another dish reserved for special occasions is the hot pot. Ours
(lau do bien), in a charcoal-heated tureen, featured catfish, mussels,
scallops, shrimp and housemade fish patties and meatballs in a broth flavored
with pineapple juice and tamarind (a pod enclosing large, smooth seeds and a
meat particularly sour, yet fruity like a prune). We added raw okra, bean
sprouts, onion and tomato to the tureen for a light but substantial soup ladled
into small bowls over vermicelli noodles.
Consider ordering one of the whole steamed fish plates, a common
meal in Vietnamese homes. Ours came sizzling on a heated plate, seasoned with
soy sauce and topped with wok-fried scallions and ginger. The same garnish
accompanied two unbelievably tender and naturally buttery whole lobsters that
had been taken live out of a tank in the restaurant, lightly battered and
fried, and chopped into small pieces.
Vietnamese beverages and desserts at 9 Roses are bizarre
combinations for the Western palate but worth the risk. Salty lemon and pickled
plum drinks cut through spicy food like the salty lime of a margarita, while a
shake made with durian (a fruit found fresh almost only in Southeast Asia) has
a nauseating smell but sweet flavor and custardy texture. The most unlikely but
best desserts are mung and red beans cooked in sugared water, served with
sweetened coconut milk over ice chips.
9 Roses long has been the leader of a growing pack of family-run
Vietnamese restaurants on the West Bank. It welcomes with a laughing Buddha at
the entrance, red and gold hues, and Chinese tabletops of bright flowers and
birds. Anna Nguyen's parents opened the original 9 Roses in Harvey in 1990,
just six years after immigrating to the United States. Today, Anna and her
husband, Jeff, build on the recipes her mother learned growing up in South
Vietnam. The Nguyens recently sold the smaller fast-food version of 9 Roses in
the CBD.
With brief descriptions and nuances between dishes only
distinguishable by a seasoned eye, the seven-page menu can be befuddling.
Fortunately, the all-Vietnamese waitstaff is approachable and sympathetic. With
patience for the sometimes-frustrating language barrier and uncommon culinary
terms, and a taste for the unordinary, your fortune at 9 Roses will be as
exquisite as mine.
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