Page 18 - foodservice magazine September 2019
P. 18
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TPRAODFEILTEALK
TALK
UNPACKING AUSTRALIA’S MOST ICONIC SANDWICHES
FOODSERVICE TRAVELLED AROUND AUSTRALIA THIS MONTH TO FIND AND DECONSTRUCT THE COUNTRY’S MOST TRANSCENDENT SANDWICHES. IN EACH CITY, WE ASKED THE MAKERS OF THOSE SANDWICHES WHY THEIRS IS SO POPULAR, BEFORE COLLATING THE DATA ON WHAT GOES INTO THE PERFECT SANDWICH.
NHU LAN’S MIXED HAM BÁNH MÌ – MELBOURNE
By Aleksandra Bliszczyk
I
“hello” in 55 languages, and whale calls. Its creators hope that one day, unknown lifeforms will find these “Golden Records” and hear the sounds of life on Earth.
If we Melburnians were to record the sounds of our city, extraterrestrials would hear tram bells, coffee grinders, thumping bass, and the crackles of Vietnamese baguettes, shattering under teeth.
Melbourne’s most iconic sandwich can only be the bánh mì. Brought here by Vietnamese immigrants in the ‘70s and ’80s, the rolls procured almost immediate popularity among non-Vietnamese communities for their hot and cold meat fillings, pickled freshness, spice, and unique crunch, and have since only burrowed deeper into our culinary ether. Every Melburnian, Vietnamese or not,
n 1977, America’s Voyager spacecraft launched with no destination and little on board besides
two 12-inch records of Mozart, folk songs,
can participate in a hot debate over the city’s best bánh mì. One that will inevitably come up in conversation Nhu Lan’s – a Vietnamese bakery institution that has been serving customers of all backgrounds from its Richmond and Footscray (Melbourne’s two biggest Vietnamese hubs) outposts for more than 25 years. Owner Khanh Ziccardi says it’s the freshness and crispness of the bread that sets their bánh mìs apart.
“We actually start baking at 3:30am, then we open at 5am, and then we bake until 3pm, 4pm, 5pm in the evening depending on demand,” says Ziccardi. “That way, the customers come in and the rolls are hot.”
At each store the teams bake between 1000 and 1500 long rolls every day, half of which get filled and sold as a bánh mìs.
The most popular, Zaccardi says, is the mixed ham, reminiscent of those found
on the streets of Saigon, where it’s too
hot for street vendors to be grilling meats over coals. The roll is sliced open, then
each hemisphere is coated in a smear of housemade pate (a heavily guarded recipe) and housemade mayo. Next, in go the cold cuts, also housemade. There are thin slices of white pork luncheon loaf, barbequed fatty pork belly, and terrine made with pork loin and pigs’ ears for extra crunch. Then, it’s a handful of house-pickled shredded carrots, batons of fresh cucumber, coriander springs, fresh chilli, a squirt of soy sauce and salt and white pepper to finish.
Looking at the finished product, in mass it’s about 60:40 roll to filling. Biting down, the reverberant crunch will disturb anyone within a 5-metre radius.
25 years after these bánh mìs sold for $2 each, the gorgeous roll now rings in at just $5.50. Perhaps in another quarter-century they’ll finally be able to charge a tenner.
TRADE