Alex J.
Yelp
They remove their cakes from the Styrofoam trays every night to refrigerate in the old plastic wrap overnight and rewrap in the used Styrofoam trays using new plastic wrap the next morning to give an illusion of freshness, since plastic wrap can give a different tactile experience once refrigerated and brought back to room temperature. Photos included, video to be uploaded.
Aside from sanitation?
"I never knew these two cakes could be this bland and unappealing, and I've been addicted to both since childhood."
My exact comment to my own mom, whose absolute disappointment in our shared orders of banh it tran and banh beo reflected my own completely. And this coming from two Vietnamese women who tend to prefer milder taste profiles.
My brain actively rebelled each new bite after the very first one, each additional chew. As in begging me to stop. She wasn't faring any better with the experience. It was that bad.
Bánh ít tran (literally "naked little cake" - yes, seriously) has long been a favorite of my mom's and mine, and bánh bèo ("water fern cake," so-named for its flat round shape) is a classic I ordered primarily for my Irishman to try. The two are created using different flour combinations resulting in vastly different textures, with a pleasant chew involved in sticky, glossy bánh ít tran dumplings and an al dente bite in bánh bèo disks. A shared trait: Both should carry a good whiff of coconut. Key word: Should. Zero hint of coconut to be found in either. The rice cakes were completely devoid of flavor.
Savory cakes lacking in flavor in their backdrop can at times hide that fact at least through their fillings or toppings. No such luck here.
Intricate Vietnamese cakes are delicacies stemming from Huê' in central Vietnam, home of the original imperial seat, where the cuisine evolved to include many variations on Vietnam's main core ingredients in catering to royalty. Bánh bèo relies on a simple savory topping of creamy mung bean paste, powdered dried shrimp, and a pinch of sautéed scallion with a drizzle of the sautée oil adding vibrant colors and flavors to play against tiny white saucers of rice and coconut nuances. Bánh ít tran takes this flavor profile and adds one additional element for good measure: Seasoned pork.
All the demanded ingredients were clearly present, and they seemed fresh enough. The yellow mung bean paste felt moist, as did the pork in our dumplings. The powdered shrimp served a bright orange dash of color across the top of the cakes, as it tends to be. The sautéed scallion added a touch of green.
Yet the taste from the very first bite was entirely lacking any taste of those ingredients, and the experience only went downhill exponentially from the very next bite. My mom: "I'll not need to order either of these again." Agreed 100%. In fact, I don't think I'll need to come back. Considering that these are their specialty items, I don't believe I have interest in trying out any more of their menu.
In looking through the eatery's Yelp photos prior to arriving, I'd noticed a tray of banh bot loc towards the end of the album. Glossy, savory little morsels comprised of sautéed shrimp and pork encased in super-chewy, translucent tapioca bites, bánh bot loc is a treat my mom and I could easily inhale, as quickly as our teeth and jaws could keep up, anyway. Upon arrival, I was informed that the little dumplings are a special-order item only. Within ten minutes of sitting down to eat our ready-made rice cakes instead, my mom turned to me: "Given this experience, ordering bánh bot loc won't be necessary." I nodded emphatically. That's okay - they're easy enough to make, and certainly worth the effort.
So what did my uninitiated Irishman think of the food, considering he didn't have a long history with royal Vietnamese treats? We've been on a Vietnamese binge lately, and of everything he's tried until now, the only dish he wasn't head over heels for and straight inhaling without a single pause was a chicken and rice dish that turned out to be a fusion take on the classic. It helped that we were relying on Yelp to make restaurant decisions as we traveled westward to meet with my mom. His reaction to his first Hue experience: He ate, but with none of his usual gusto or delight, just curiosity.
As we wrapped up the unpalatable morsels to head off, my poor Irishman making the sacrifice to finish them later, I watched as the two individuals manning the front area apparently returned to task of removing the great many remaining cakes from their Styrofoam trays and toss the trays in two piles off to the side. No gloves, right in the dining area, and trays were tossed aside even though they clearly were using them again.
I found myself wondering how sanitary the entire process kept everything given I was definitely witnessing a nightly process. Not planning on finding out.
UPDATE: Never mind, even my guy's decided to toss the leftovers out for critters. Wow.