Bep is this Vietnamese joint that has only four things on the menu: Vermicelli, pho, spring rolls, and bahn mi.
Another bahn mi option in downtown?
The gauntlet, good sirs and madames, has been thrown.
I get there and the place is tiny - I mean tiny, like the size of the original Lu’s - and there’s naturally not a person of Asian descent anywhere behind the counter. (The lone Asian diner seemed to be enjoying herself. In fact, she’d remind you of Women Laughing Alone With Salad.) The set up, though, I immediately identified as the one piloted by Subway, championed by Chipotle, and ball jocked by Naf Naf: Ladies and gentlemen, I’m in a “fast cazh” Vietnamese joint. They better not offer me asiago herb bread.
Ordering my banh mi the way I’d order my Chipotle wasn’t that daunting, and I saw the meat options on the menu - chicken, pork, steak, and tofu: $7.95; shrimp add a dollar - and I told the very friendly lady behind the counter I wanted a steak banh mi to go. She left her bowl of vermicelli pasta (rather than her tortilla press) and grabbed a bun, squeezed some pate into it, and filled it up full of cubed medium rare (the pink kind) steak, and handed it off to a dude who was really happy to see me and asked me what all I wanted on my banh mi. Again, I read the menu. Basically, if you want a normal banh mi, you have to ask for the works. (Though, instead of straight cilantro, they offer an “Asian herb mix" of Thai basil, mint, perilla, and cilantro.) I asked for the works and this dude was even happier. I think he was high. He handed this off to another dude who asked if I wanted crushed peanuts and I thought that was fucked up but, shit, sure, why not? Top them shits off with crushed peanuts. And then he asked me if I wanted any vinaigrette or hot sauce and I was all, “Nah, I’m good on that.” I mean, vinaigrette on a banh mi? What chicanery is this?
I get the sandwich back to the mail room and take a picture so I can ‘gram it later because I’m a basic bitch like that and then set to eating it.
OK, first of all? Bread? Perfect. Flaky outside, airy inside. Absorbed the pate like it was au jous. Got them juices from the pickled carrots and daikons trapped, rudeboy. Meat game? On point. I’ve had beef banh mi but steak banh mi? Medium rare steak banh mi? Holy shit, a revelation. Pickled carrots and daikons, On point. Cucumber? I don’t know how you could fuck up a cucumber so I’m not giving them points for just putting cucumber on it. Peanuts? Couldn’t taste them. I will, however, give them points for seeding their jalapeño, though. I saw these big honkin’ jalapeño slices and I was all, “UUUhhh…” and while I did get a little mouth burn, it wasn’t a raging inferno because they seeded their damned jalapeños like civilized westerners.
What’s that? Oh, now’s the wrong moment in history to go for the xenophobic joke you don’t realize is xenophobic until I point it out? OK, sorry. Won’t happen again.
I mean, I’m lying to you and it totally will happen again, it’s only a matter of time.
Anyhoo, I have to deduct big points for the Asian herb mix. Like really, some of those herbs, we don’t know anything about them and we need to detain them for the security of our sandwich.
What!? I told you I was lying to you, it was only a matter of time before - Oh, that’s not xenophobic in and of itself? That’s actually just a reference to xenophobic and disastrous foreign policy implemented by a tax- and draft-dodging game show host with zero governing or diplomatic experience as instructed by a gin blossomed wife-beating Nazi propagandist and shrugged off by a spineless Ayn Rand devotee? Oh, OK.
Anyway, the Asian herb mix? Let’s be real. All a banh mi needs is cilantro. The mint has to go. And perilla? I had to look that shit up. It’s part of the mint family. I want a goddamned steak banh mi, not a motherfucking Tic Tac. Thai basil? I always like basil and basil plays nicely with cilantro. Basil can stay but the mint and perilla seriously altered the flavor profile. You know how people complain about cilantro tasting like soap (it doesn’t), well, you add mint and perilla to cilantro and you’re going to taste some fucking soap, boy. For real. Not enough to turn me off but enough to where I keep eating this goddamned thing and wonder every few bites, “What the fuck is that? Is that - What the fuck is that?” It wasn’t unpleasant but it was there and I don’t need to “notice shit being off” when all I want to do is eat a sandwich.
So, OK, bottom line? Big banh mi, typical downtown price ($7.95), bread game is on point (all banh mi shops in MPLS are on notice for that alone), meat and veg are done right, pate is done right, I can’t testify to their Vietnamese vinaigrette, citrus soy, or peanut chili sauces because I didn’t get them, but goddamn that Asian herb mix. Maybe it works in the other dishes but it aint jiving on the banh mi. Maybe I’ll just skip that part next time.
Comments
Post a Comment