Vietnam's history of being invaded or occupied by the Chinese, the Mongols, the Japanese, the French and the Americans has given it a distinctive cuisine. Some Vietnamese favorites seem pretty exotic: the meat of the bat, the dog, the cobra, the frog, the eel and a delicacy made from duck tongues. But its national mainstays, rice and noodles accompanied by broth and a bit of chicken or fish and vegetables, are not such a far leap for most of us.
You can sample some Vietnamese delights at a newly opened local eatery called The Noodle Lounge. Its fare is a fascinating cross of Vietnamese, Thai, Chinese and Japanese dishes, so artfully done that you feel you've gotten the best of all. Owned by Vietnamese native and respected local restaurateur B.T. Nguyen-Batley, who also operates Café B.T. and The Yellow Door, The Noodle Lounge brings the Far East right here to our doorstep.
The Noodle Lounge serves only lunch; its sister restaurant, Café B.T., located next door, does the honors at dinner with a different menu of Vietnamese-French cuisine and more formal setting and service. The Noodle Lounge is more casual, sporting a clean, minimalist interior, set with simple, modern furniture and contemplative, pale yellow walls.
Perhaps the most succulent of its dishes are B.T.'s assortment of homemade noodles: flat rice noodles, rice vermicelli, pan-seared wide noodles, glass noodles, every shape, color and texture, all laden with high-quality fresh produce and lavished with freshly-made stocks, sauces and vegetables.
We started with an appetizer called Monk's crispy spring rolls ($4.95), two rice paper wrappers stuffed with tofu, mushrooms, glass noodles, onions, carrots, spice and served with a side dish bearing a tangy, sweet chili and garlic dipping sauce. Its varied filling gave it an unusual, textural yin and yang, alternating between crunch and give, with the sauce contributing an intense smoothness, but not too much spicy heat.
We had trouble ordering an entrée because they all sounded good. Like the Lemongrass beef tenderloin ($9.95) set on rice vermicelli, lettuce, fresh herbs, cucumbers, bean sprouts and garnished with crushed peanuts, scallions and nuoc mam dressing, a condiment flavored with juice drained from fermented fish. Or the marinated chicken ($8.95) set on a bed of traditional Vietnamese shredded cabbage salad with ginger vinaigrette. Or seared salmon with soba noodles ($9.95), grilled fresh salmon brushed with ponzu (soy-based condiment), miso, sesame glaze, green onions and shiitake mushrooms.
We finally settled upon Hanoi Beef ($8.95) and chicken curry noodles and veggies ($6.95). We sat outside on the patio facing a parking lot full of big Mercedes and Ford Expeditions, which, when cranked to life, were too close to our table and pretty annoying.
We were tempted to move inside, away from the sun, the heat, the car noise and the bugs, but since our food had just made its way to us, we stayed where we were.
My companion's dish turned out to be sliced beef tenderloin atop wide, flat rice noodles with a number of other ingredients requiring days to prepare, according to the menu. It was served with basil, onions and bean sprouts in a steaming hot beef broth, set with lime wedges, basil, cilantro, chili hoisin sauce and shallots.
Its more than 20 ingredients sent out a captivatingly aromatic bouquet. Its thinly sliced meat was easy to grab with chopsticks, which inevitably snagged a fat noodle, too, or one of the many other items in the big bowl. It was yummy and filling.
Still, I think I got the best dish, for mine contained wide rice noodles, sugar snap peas, bamboo shoots and green onions set in a yellow curry, coconut and lemongrass sauce, garnished with fresh opal basil and roasted shallots. You could also order it topped with chicken (add $2), beef tenderloin (add $3) or prawns (add $4).
Accompanying my meal was an unusual homemade limeade ($2.50), served in a slim, straight, clear Parisian-style glass with a lime round perched on the edge. "Refreshing" isn't a strong enough word for this pale green, citrus-flavored antidote to the humidity. After all, Tampa's climate is not all that different from parts of Southeast Asia, where the populace is adept at mitigating climactic discomforts.
The day we were there, the Other Paper had just written a story about the restaurant and it was jammed with people. The service suffered as a result, since the poor waitresses were juggling a whole roomful of tables and people waiting in line at the door, in addition to tables outside on the patio.
The hoards apparently had snarfed down the most interesting desserts, like Che Chuoi ($4.95), a traditional Vietnamese dish made with banana, coconut and tapioca pudding and served hot. B.T.'s fabulous homemade dark chocolate mousse ($5.95), which I have enjoyed often and know to be consistently fabulous, also wasn't available. So, we settled for a piece of Key lime pie ($5.95), with a sharply satisfying filling that was rich, slick and smooth, but its limp Graham cracker crust left something to be desired.
Still, we enjoyed our meal there and would go back in a minute. It's a lot easier than flying to Hanoi.
Food Editor Sara Kennedy dines anonymously, and Weekly Planet pays for her meals. She can be reached at sara.kennedy@weeklyplanet.com or 813-248-8888 ext. 116.
This article appears in Jun 26 – Jul 2, 2003.