Vietnamese Sandwich Number Four

Vietnamese Sandwich Number Four

Best Baguette, Powell Blvd. near 82nd Ave., Portland, Oregon.

Whenever I feel squeezed for time—my definition of “squeezed” is probably a bit more leisurely than yours—I use that atypical state as an excuse to grab a Number Four at the nearby Best Baguette Vietnamese sandwich shop. My repeated visits to Best Baguette have been my only experience of “fast food” in decades: situated next door to a Fast Food Power Center (KFC/A&W at one corner versus Carl’s Junior at the other, Taco Bell and Burger King a few blocks down), Best Baguette—complete with drive-thru service—seems to fit right in. Once inside however, and confronted by not only the sandwich menu on the wall, but also racks of sweet pastries, a bubble tea menu, frozen yogurt, and various baked goods, I always breathe a sigh of relief that I’m here rather than next door or across the street smelling grease-and-dough encrusted protein pellets.

Number Four is the Grilled Pork Vietnamese Sandwich. In case you’ve never encountered a Vietnamese Sandwich or “Banh Mi,” it’s basically a baguette cut lenthwise (like a sub sandwich) with stuff inside: a bit of meat and some shredded vegetables with Vietnamese seasoning, the styles of which vary from shop to shop. Best Baguette has a little packet of veggies they sprinkle on top of the meat: mostly shredded carrot. On top of that, they usually throw on a pile of cilantro and some sliced jalapeno pepper. My Number Four is always ordered “with no cilantro,” of course, but I have accepted the jalapeno as a challenge.

This evening, as I drove down 82nd Ave. toward my destination, I was contemplating my sandwich choices. I could order the Number Four as usual, or I could try something different. I knew there were quite a few other meat choices and several people have made recommendations. But each of them have pitfalls. There’s the Best Baguette Special: “Classic combination of pate, premium ham, pork roll and head.” No way: the paté I’m sure has organ meats and I can’t even imagine what “head” might be. Okay, it’s probably the head of something. Then there’s Pork Roll, “traditional Southeast Asian deli style pork slices.” Um no. This is definitely not going to be any kind of deli style I’m familiar with. Okay, there’s the Grilled Chicken (Number Three). That’s what I used to get, before I tried Number Four. It’s good, but not quite as good as Number Four. Moving on. Meatball: “Vietnamese style meatballs slowly simmered in broth.” That might be okay, but still,  a meatball has lots of room for unknown icky things. Well, here’s an idea: Saigon Bacon. Sounds good, except they call it “Cured fatty bacon slices made famous in the capitol city.” Fatty. I’ll try that some other time. Paté. I already covered that. “No way paté.” That leaves only a few more: Shredded Pork with Pork Skin, Sardine—and various combinations of all of the above. The last time I tried sardines they were on a gourmet pizza, which would have been allright, except for the sardines. Pork with Pork skin? Well, again, room for grossness. Then there’s the “French Sandwiches” menu. These are your normal American sandwiches, despite the “French.” Needless to say, I’m not here for roast beef.

Tonight’s Number Four was the first I’d had in quite a while, maybe a few years. The bread didn’t seem quite as fresh as I remember it. They bake the baguettes on the premises and usually they’re perfect. This time, not quite perfect. The pork was tasty as usual, and they seem to have really piled on the jalapeno in an effort to fill in the space usually reserved for cilantro. (I removed most of the jalapeno, but retained one slice for each third of the sandwich.) The sandwich was tasty and satisfying with a little extra throat burning for added excitement. As expected, I loved my Number Four. Even so, I think it’s possible that some day I really may try one of the other sandwiches. If I do, I’ll tell you all about it.

African Peanut Bowl

African Peanut Bowl

Lunch at Harlow on Hawthorne, Portland, Oregon

These days eating out in Portland is often a choice between a vegan soy-free kale quinoa bowl and a bacon burger on a syrup-encrusted donut; beverages are a choice between a wheatgrass smoothie and a hand-roasted double espresso (or alternatively, a craft brewed anise infused IPA); desserts are a choice between an organic gluten-free amaranth scone or a tiramisu triple-chocolate mousse cake. Restaurants, with the exception of high-end and ethnic venues, veer towards one extreme or the other. Either it’s a meat place whose menu contains meat, meat with grease, meat with another kind of meat, and mac n cheese for your vegetarian friend; or it’s a piously socially conscious vegetarian/vegan place serving raw greens, protein-like substance, sesame dip and whole wheat sunflower seed “bagels.” I’m not against eating healthy or eating delicious. I’m not even against eating meat and I’m definitely not against eating gluten. What I am against is food as doctrine.

Harlow is solidly in the vegan gluten-free kale and quinoa party and normally I would choose an ethnic hole-in-the-wall over a trendy health food destination. But I was meeting my friend Kirsten, who eats 100% vegetarian and is a fellow picky eater; she preferred Harlow, since it’s all-vegetarian, and gives her more food choices than some of the other places I had mentioned. Moreover, we had met there once before and both of us liked the food.

This time, before setting out on my bike, I spent a significant length of time studying the online menu. Last time, I had chosen the “Urban Bowl” with peanut sauce, which was fine, but it lacked a certain something. It was pretty much all vegetables, which was what I wanted, but there wasn’t enough flavor present to compensate for the lack of grains. Most of the other choices would involve much the same thing as the Urban Bowl, only with added grains, so I decided to go wild with the African Peanut Bowl (with rice instead of quinoa, whose texture I find abhorrent, and minus the cilantro, needless to say).

I’m glad I did! I mean, there’s no going wrong with peanuts. And the dish was packed with KALE, which normally I would avoid—in favor of more reasonable greens such as spinach or chard. But the strong peanut sauce flavor overwhelmed the potential nastiness of the kale to a sufficient degree. The brown rice was a satisfying counterbalance to the greens and the peanut sauce. A pleasant foundation for a congenial chat with a friend.

Yes, it was vegan. Yes, it was gluten-free. And it would be nice if more restaurants focused on the health basics rather than scientifically questionable fads. But until then, I’ll be getting my greens, fruits, whole grains and legumes where I can find them, and I can undoubtedly find them at Harlow. 

Asian Tacos

Jade District Night Market, Portland, OR (Saturday, August 30)

Asian Food Cart

Asian Tacos (Chicken)

Anticipating exciting new Asian “street food” carts, I walked briskly with my husband, from my house in Foster-Powell to the nearby “Jade District Night Market” in the Fubonn parking lot on 82nd Avenue in Southeast Portland. Still, I wasn’t quite sure if I would be able to find something to eat there. It might be too crowded or too expensive. But as soon as I saw the words “Best Asian Tacos” I knew I had to squeeze myself into the line forming in front of the “Asian Food” cart. I had read about some kind of Asian tacos, probably in my friend Cecelia’s Korean Food blog. These fabled tacos were in LA of course—probably they were “Korean” rather than “Asian”—and I wished they might travel north to my town so I could sample some. Apparently the culinary gods had heard my plea.

I knew I just wanted the tacos, but as I waited in line, I noticed there were other choices. One of them involved squid. I think I tried squid once, in a weak moment, coaxed into trying something nobody else was recoiling from. It was chewy and had a nasty flavor, as I had originally thought it would. My status as a picky eater, with no hopes of culinary sophistication were once again confirmed. But that was back in the 1980s. Now, well past midlife, I knew what I liked, and even more importantly, I knew what I didn’t like.  

Finally I found myself face-to-face with the roundish, affable Asian fellow in the Asian Food Cart, asking about Asian tacos. I knew there was a choice between chicken or pork, and I wanted to try both, so I opted for the two tacos for five dollars deal. But alas. Asian cook guy who could be seen slaving over a smoky grill in the back, was out of pork. A slight setback. Chicken? Pork? I didn’t much care. They were grilled and they were inside an Asian Taco. I ordered my two, handed over my five-dollar bill. My name was affixed to my food order slip, held down by a rock, in line behind three previous food order slips. I got ready to wait.

But tonight, it seems, the culinary gods were on my side, and in just a few minutes, my tacos appeared in a little rectangular box as Asian food truck guy uttered my name.

Now there was a slight panic. I wanted to find a table where I might park my dinner while it was still hot. I urgently pushed my way over to my waiting husband, but had no problem finding a stand-up style table nearby. I gazed at my dinner. The tacos looked just like any other tacos: grilled meat and shredded vegetables, topped with a sauce, stuffed into a folded corn tortilla. Ah, but the taste!

Having no qualifications as either foodie or a restaurant critic, I really have no idea what flavors or ingredients were in this dish. They tasted Asian, perhaps, even Korean. The sauce was whitish and creamy. The vegetables were cabbage-like. There may have been a hint of cilantro (which I normally hate) in the sauce. Whatever it was, it had easily left my plate and entered my digestive system in less than five minutes.

Best tacos I’ve had in years. I will be going back next week. Will I get the Asian Tacos again? Or will I try something new? Stay tuned.