CHẢ

Tet is coming. It’s time for Chả!

Of course, in Vietnam, it’s always time for chả.

Chả in your bánh mì, chả in your bún mọc, chả in your bánh cuốn, chả in your bánh dầy or chả with just about anything else if there’s room on your plate – breakfast, lunch or dinner.

BUT, at Tet, it’s really really time for chả.  Preparing chả with the family, eating chả with friends, gifting chả to friends and neighbors to welcome and celebrate the coming of a new year, and offering chả on the ancestral alter in the living room.

Now, I should probably pause here for a moment for those who are asking, “So, what is chả?” (Clearly you’ve never eaten in Vietnam).

Well, think pork baloney, meatloaf, sausage. You get the idea (details to follow below).

Not so long ago, Hai and I were given the ultimate Tet gift of chả by an 80-year-old woman in our neighborhood. She invited us to join her and her family in their home to witness and participate in the making of chả for the Tet holiday.

OMG! What a wonderful experience that would be! Thank you, thank you. We’d love to come and help. Where and when?

Tomorrow, 3:00 a.m.! Here in my house, she directed!  Well … hmmn, okay we will be here.  Hereinafter, we shall refer to this wonderful elderly woman as The Saigon Chả Lady.

You know, it’s dark at 3:00 a.m. in Saigon! And the streets are empty! YES, that’s right, empty streets in Saigon. Who knew? 🙂

Hai and I arrived on time hoping we wouldn’t wake someone as we knocked on the front door. Instead, we were swept into a factory-like production-line already churning in The Saigon Chả Lady’s large kitchen.

OK, camera out, “hand me that pan”, plastic gloves on, “watch – that’s hot”, take notes, “move out of the way”.  The Tet chả production was already well underway.

Everyone had their clear assignments. Sons, daughters-in-law, grand children, cousins … and The Saigon Chả Lady choreographed it all.

It seemed we would be producing three different kinds of chả this morning:

• Giò chả (also called chả lụa, giò lụa)
  
• Chả mỡ
• and Chả quế .

But, first things first. Time for Hai and I (or at least me) to take basic Chả 101.

Step 1 was to start with a pig! Not too young, not too old. About 50 kgs would be perfect, we were told.

And, of course, a dead pig is best. It should be bludgeoned on the head and immediately butchered. This would produce a slightly chewy–textured chả  (that’s good).  The best chả should be made from the pig’s thigh (rear thigh meat, not front leg).

So, this morning, we would be beginning with freshly-bludgeoned, just-butchered rear-thigh pork meat. Perfect!  Time to grind.

Now, historically, when chả first began “in the North”, we were advised,  the pork meat was “pounded” into the proper smooth consistency. This morning, we’d be using major machinery to accomplish this task.  While the family chả recipes were a bit proprietary, we would learn the basics.

Giò Chả

Giò chả was the “basic” chả recipe we would learn this morning.   Add to the blender the pork meat (ice-chilled), water, fish sauce, sugar, flour (tapioca), a natural coloring agent and some “secret ingredient”. It was explained that this “secret ingredient” would help make the chả more chewy, have a better smell, and serve as a preservative – apparently, a “miracle ingredient”?!  These would be the basic ingredients for all 3 forms of chả this morning.

The giò chả blend would now be removed from the blender, passed onto the next work station (sister-in-law and niece) to be carefully weighed and dropped into plastic bags. The plastic bags were then handed off again to another relative to be inserted into a metal cylinder to form the classic cylindrical-shaped chả.

Dozens of metal cylinders were next aligned inside the steam cooker … at 108C (225F).

At just the right moment, the cylinders were taken out of the steamer and dropped into a cooling water bath.  Cylinder caps were opened, the giò chả removed, and placed in a plastic bin ready to be delivered to the wrapping station (located in the family living room.)

Now traditionally, it was explained, there was no plastic involved in the entire production process.  The chả was wrapped and steamed directly in the banana leaves.  This had coloration and some flavoring implications.  However, convenience, mass production, and shelf-life issues had contributed over time to the practice of using plastic wrapping in combination with banana leaves.

 Chả Mỡ

Chả mỡ, my personal favorite, had a similar basic recipe, but with one important (and flavorful) difference – FAT!

FAT, as in the addition of pork fat to the blended pork meat.  And FAT, as in deep frying the steamed pork after it came out of the cooker. YUM! YUM!

Chả Quế 

Again, the chả quế  begins with the same basic recipe, but adds a healthy amount of cinnamon to the pork blend and, then after the basic steaming, gets grilled. Again, YUM!

The sun was beginning to rise … 5:30 a.m.!  The chả work day was almost finished.

It had been a productive and exciting morning for Hai and I. A truly wonderful experience.

I now have a much deeper appreciation for chả, for pork fat, and for Tet family cooking and eating traditions.  And, of course, for The Saigon Chả Lady.

The Saigon Chả Lady, by the way, has parented 10 children and used her chả recipes and business acumen to see that each one of her children has become a successful professional here in Saigon.

Chúc Mừng Năm Mới & Enjoy your Chả !