Filipino Cuisine: Mysteriously Eluding the Mainstream

Given that fusion and global cuisine are so hot and are such a direct reflection of our national experience, it's hard to understand how one of the most fundamentally melting pot of food traditions seems to keep eluding mainstream popularity.

I'm talking, of course, about Filipino food, a cuisine that embraces Southeast Asian, Latin (Spanish and Mexican), Chinese, and native traditions. With a tropical climate, multiple languages, diverse geographical zones (including 7,000 islands), and over 120 ethnic groups, according to the wonderful blog Pleasure Palate, there's already going to be a tremendous variety of natural resources. Add to that Chinese trade with the Philippines that began around the 11th century, the arrival of the Spaniards several centuries later, who ruled for 377 years (1521 -- with the arrival of Ferdinand Magellan -- to 1898 with the U.S. defeat of the Spanish in the Spanish-American War), and then the influence of Americans (sadly, mostly around convenience foods) and you have a cuisine that embraces multiple cultures and ingredients to create a distinctive Filipino style of food. And, perhaps a style hard to define.

I can't pretend to be able to break it down myself. I'm still a novice to this food but I've been won over by a couple of bloggers and their recipes, as well as a local San Diego market that serves the Filipino community.

Seafood City is in the heart of Mira Mesa, just off the 15 freeway at Mira Mesa Blvd. With the Filipino bakery Red Ribbon just next door, it's the go-to shopping spot for the local Filipino community and has many of the unique products essential for creating traditional dishes.

When I was there, the produce department was bursting with fresh chiles--everything from skinny Thai chiles to long plump green Anaheims, petite serranos, and your basic jalapenos. There were sliced bamboo shoots, banana blossoms, and lemongrass. Long beans and bitter melons were alongside long, thin Chinese eggplants and shorter, plumper Filipino eggplants, a couple of which I bought to make an incredible dish called Tortang Talong. Essentially a multi-dimensional eggplant omelet, Tortang Talong is easy and fun to make thanks to very thorough recipe on the blog, Burnt Lumpia.

Back to the produce section: There was also a seductive selection of roots and tubers that seemed to be organized by color: taro, yucca, potatoes, and jicama among them.

I found myself drawn to a plantain relative--fresh "banana pears" or saba from Mexico. Their squared edges intrigued me.

Like plantains, you need to cook these before eating them and I found a terrific recipe for Saba Banana Caramel on Home Cooking and Baking. I loved the flavors and textures--perfect for topping ice cream. Of course, they're also delicious all by their lonesome.

In a refrigerated section near the produce were duck eggs--some raw and some preserved with salt and black tea. And further along that wall was a vast selection of packaged dried fish and bags of meat balls--from beef and pork to fish, scallop, cuttlefish and fried shrimp. Cuttlefish in particular are common in the Philippines, often sold by street vendors, who skewer and fry them, and serve them with a sweet-and-spicy sauce or a thick black sweet-and-sour sauce.

Among the products that caught my attention was the collection of frozen leaves that included bitter melon, jute, cassava, pepper, horseradish, and banana. I would love for someone to explain the uses of many of these. I gather some are traditionally for medicinal purposes, although many of us are familiar with the culinary uses of banana leaves as a wrapper for cooking dishes like pad thai and tamales or anything else for which you'd use parchment paper or foil.

On the other side of the freezer section from the leaves is a long line of various types of, what else, lumpia. These delicious egg rolls are probably the first dish that comes to mind -- other than pansit noodles -- when Filipino food is mentioned. Here you can find pork and shrimp, chicken and shrimp, and chicken varieties in small packages or enormous Costco-sized packages.

I loved the aisles with the sauces and vinegars. I bought some banana ketchup, which is quite sweet, but passed on the various fish sauces since I already had a couple of bottles. Since I couldn't decide which vinegar to buy, I got several and am still trying to work out the differences. Known as "suka" in the Philippines, they can come from palm, coconut, and cane and that's just for starters. But it doesn't end there. Some are clear, others are cloudy or even a deep amber. I'm sending you back to Burnt Lumpia for a good overview because why reinvent the wheel? I suggest you try several (they're very inexpensive) and find flavor profiles you enjoy.

 

One of the biggest reasons to visit Seafood City is, of course, the seafood. Like its Vietnamese  neighbor, Lucky Seafood, there's a huge selection of colorful fish, crabs, shrimp, and other ocean favorites.

 
You can pick up tiny wild freshwater crabs from Vietnam and perhaps a half dozen types of shrimp, including Mexican white shrimp, black tiger, and water prawns. On ice are milkfish, barracuda, carp, mullet, and rainbow-colored parrotfish.

Along with seafood is a large butcher shop section, where you can find chicken, beef, pork, and even goat. I bought chicken there, which I turned into what is probably considered the national dish of the Philippines, chicken adobo. It's easy to make and I chose my recipe from Jaden Hair's terrific book, The Steamy Kitchen Cookbook. The sauce is made with simple ingredients: vinegar, peppercorns, sugar, soy sauce, garlic, and bay leaves. And, it's done in one pot. Serve on rice and you're good.

 
You can also pick up that most Filipino of sausages, pork longonisa.

You can find different versions of them, some so pinkish red with food color they don't look quite real. Some look rather colorless, like bratwurst and some are a more natural red color.  They can be sweet or spicy and are reminiscent of Spanish chorizo, though they aren't as heavily spiced as chorizo. I bought a package of spicy longoniza, which I used to make the Tortang Talong.

Before leaving, I had to check out the breads. I love traditional pan de sal, which they carry. But I had to buy a big loaf of ube bread. This soft loaf has a swirl of sweet ube--a purple root vegetable--that is a wonderful surprise when you cut it open and then devour it. It's lovely toasted with just a schmear of cream cheese or butter.

There's a little take-out joint off to the side of the store that had some nice lumpia and selection of different noodle dishes. The prices are very reasonable and the food was good.

I hope those readers who are Filipino or are familiar with Filipino food will weigh in on some of the dishes they enjoy and ingredients they like to use. And, can you suggest some local restaurants that serve authentic Filipino cuisine?

Seafood City is located on 8955 Mira Mesa Blvd. and three other locations in San Diego as well as Los Angeles, Northern California, and La Vegas. You'll also find useful recipes on the site.


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In Stock and Ready to Go

For years my pantry always had containers and cans of ready-to-use chicken broth. I experimented with different brands, some organic, some fat-free and low-sodium. They were convenient. They are convenient. But that's really their strongest selling point.

When I finally bought my own house and built a garage, there was no question but that I was going to have a freezer out there. That freezer has enabled me to make and store my own homemade chicken stock. And what a difference that's made, especially recently when I was under the weather and wanted to easily and quickly make some nourishing chicken soup.

You can easily find endless numbers of recipes on how to make stock. I've tried several. But my last batch has been remarkable for the ease and lack of waste involved. And, of course, the flavor. I had been at Lucky Seafood in Mira Mesa and decided to get some chicken legs there for stock. I've always liked how the big bones in the legs yield rich marrow for the liquid. But they didn't have pre-cut legs. I looked around the case and saw big, five-pound block-like bags of frozen chicken bones. While I was pondering if this was something to pursue, a customer came up to order them and told me she buys them all the time to make soup for her family. Sold.

Now, at an Asian market, the produce choices are going to be different from conventional American supermarkets. Ordinarily, I'd have bought carrots, celery, onions, turnips, and garlic for my stock. I found carrots and onions, but there were no turnips. Or parsnips, for that matter. So, I bought a large pale daikon radish. Weird, I know, but stay with me; it was a nice addition.

I'm not going to give you a formal recipe for this stock experiment, but this is what I did. I pulled out a huge pot, loaded it with the defrosted bones (primarily breast bones) after trimming away skin and fat, roughly cut carrots and the daikon, two quartered onions, and the unpeeled cloves of a big head of garlic. I had parsley from my garden so I threw some in. And, I finished it up with about a tablespoon of black peppercorns before filling the pot with water. I brought it all to a boil, skimmed the foam, reduced the temperature to low and let it simmer for about three hours. Then, using a ladle, I poured it through a chinois to get a clear broth and seasoned the rich liquid with salt. I filled perhaps a dozen different sized freezer containers, with labels showing the date.

But, we're not quite done. Once the liquid was removed I was left with cooked vegetables and bones. First, I pulled out the carrots and garlic cloves. Save those cloves. You've been given a lovely paste to spread on bread or add to pasta, sauces, and the like. I don't like cooked carrots much but my sweet dogs do. So, those were set aside with the residual meat I pulled off the chicken bones. There wasn't much -- hence my "lack of waste" comment above (usually, I'm left with lots of over-cooked, tasteless meat by the end) -- but just enough for a nice treat for the girls. Or so I thought. I packaged the carrots and chicken meat in little baggies for individual servings and put them in the freezer. Another benefit of using mostly bones and not meat is that my stock yield was easily doubled and the flavor was big. I tossed the cooked daikon.

Then I got sick. Well, not really sick, but my stomach was bothering me. I pulled out a favorite cookbook, Nina Simonds's A Spoonful of Ginger, looking for a chicken soup recipe that might go down easily but not require much fuss to make. I found several but, of course, I already had my stock. And, I had those frozen little packets of chicken and carrots. So, I riffed on various themes I saw in her book to come up with something of my own. The ginger and rice wine lift it from the traditional Jewish penicillin I'm used to, giving it a clean, delicious, and, yes, comforting flavor, which got even better each of the three progressive days I ate it.

Ginger Chicken Soup

8 cups of chicken stock
4 quarter-size slices of fresh ginger, smashed with the side of a heavy knife
1 cup rice wine (Symonds likes Shaoxing wine)
3 green onions, trimmed, cut in thirds

Combine all the ingredients in a large pot and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for about 20 minutes. At this point, remove the ginger and green onions and add other ingredients you may have on hand. I put in about half a cup of the chicken pieces and carrots, half a dozen sliced shitake mushrooms, and chopped baby bok choy. I let it simmer for another 20 minutes and it was ready.

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Playing with Fire? Nah, Just Dragon Fruit

On Mon., Oct. 5, I'll be on KPBS radio's "These Days" with Chef Trey Foshee of George's at the Cove talking about ethnic markets. He and I are big fans of these markets, loving them not just for the amazing products you find, but for the cultural experience of diving into another world.

I bring this up because people often remark on how uncomfortable they are at the idea of going to, say, 99 Ranch Market or Mitsuwa, Northgate Gonzalez or Lucky Seafood. They're worried that they won't know what to buy, that no one will understand them, or they're just intimidated by being someplace "foreign."

So, I tell you this story to underscore how completely non-intimidating these wonderful stores can be and how they have the potential to change the way you shop, cook, and eat.

Yesterday I decided to stop by several of my favorite places to pick up virtual "show and tell" items for the show. Listeners won't see them, but host Maureen Cavanaugh will and she likes to try new things. I walked around 99 Ranch picking up my favorite garlic peanuts, a package of sesame ball cookies, some packaged lily buds (great for hot and sour soup), and finally landed in the produce department. They had fresh water chestnuts, which I'd hoped for, and daikon, of course. Then I saw something unfamiliar. These brilliant fuschia dragon fruit (also known as Pitaya or Pitahaya Fruit).


I've heard of them, of course, but I don't actually recall having seen them--but here they are in a big bin and I've just got to have a couple. But, what do I do with them?

Well, I could just get some and go home and Google them, but there was a woman standing there, picking one up and turning it around in her hands, putting it down, and picking up another with apparent experience with the fruit. So, I asked her, "What do you do with them?" She and I got into a conversation about how you eat the fruit (she cuts off the ends, slices them lengthwise and peels the fruit like a banana), how you can add them to fruit salad, what a great deal they were because they're from Vietnam and not locally grown. Did I know they grow on cactus? It was terrific.

She showed me how to pick out nice ones (look for a bright color, no marks, firm but with a little give--"like kiwi," she said) and I started to move on. Then I saw another woman stop in front of the bin and ask her the same question. Then another. Soon there were about half a dozen Asian women and me, the lone Caucasian Jewish woman, standing around discussing the relative merits of dragon fruit. After about five minutes of animated discussion, everyone filled their carts and walked away satisfied.

This goes on all the time. Long ago I learned not to be shy in these situations from my mother, who often parks herself in front of an unfamiliar item and just waits for someone to come by so she can ask. And, she's gotten some great recipes out of that strategy.

So, really, there's nothing to fear when it comes to shopping at ethnic markets. Just be your friendly, inquisitive, polite self and ask someone for help. They'll probably love being considered an expert.

As for the dragon fruit, I took a couple home and still did my research. They're very nutritious (with carotene, calcium, B1, B2, B3, phosphorus, and Vitamin C) and are full of fiber. Interestingly, they aren't pollinated during the day by bees. Instead, they have huge aromatic flowers that bloom at night, with pollination performed by bats and moths.

How do you eat them? Sure, you can follow the lead of my new friend, but you can also just slice them in half lengthwise, slide a large spoon between the inedible skin and the flesh (which you'll see is studded with lots of itty bitty black edible seeds), and remove the flesh.


It's very dramatic looking, which is good, because, honestly, dragon fruit aren't a powerhouse of flavor in the same way mangos and papayas are (again, think kiwi). But, you can cut the fruit up and add it to a salad, eat it plain, juice it, or perhaps make it part of a tropical drink, like a daiquiri as @PaulaJohns suggested on Twitter. I'm also thinking smoothie or even a tropical homemade ice cream. Of course, you can also make it part of a sauce or even salsa. I found a couple of recipes on Your Produce Man's website for dragon fruit sauce, salsa, and chutney.

I hope you'll tune in on Monday. Trey and I have a lot of other great places and products to share in the hopes that you'll stop just driving by these stores and, instead, make a point of stopping in and trying something new.


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How Not to Shop for Food on an Empty Stomach or Great Little Dining Gems in the Markets

The experts say that you shouldn't go to the market when you're hungry and it's true. All sorts of caloric and financial havoc happens when your stomach is grumbling as you stroll down the aisles.

Fortunately, there are a number of markets in town that also have great little eateries attached to them. So, if you plan it right, you can grab a meal first, get that rumbling tummy sated and then grab a cart and pick up your groceries.

Here are some of my favorites:

• Balboa International Market at 5907 Balboa Ave. in Clairemont. I've raved about the lamb shank and rice with fava beans but they also have great stews and kabobs that come with a full helping of rice and salad. You can also pick up containers of tabouleh or other salads and a chunk of one of their many feta cheeses. And, of course, freshly made flat bread.

• Parsian International Market, another Middle Eastern market, in at 4020 Convoy in Kearny Mesa. They have delicious wraps and kabobs as well as Greek salads, soups and, well, just a tremendous selection of traditional Middle Eastern fare. Eat indoors or on their breezy patio on Convoy.
• Mitsuwa at 4240 Kearny Mesa Road in Kearny Mesa. I never know whether to indulge in their delicious steaming bowls of ramen (no, the real deal, not Top Ramen) or some udon. Or perhaps sushi, freshly made in the store. Mitsuwa's food court always seems packed with ravenous people.
  
• Northgate Gonzalez at 1410 S. 43rd St. in Southcrest. Hmmm. Butterflied roast chicken? Carnitas? Or perhaps a container of one of their amazing ceviches? The very long aisle of prepared foods invites happy confusion so bring some friends and order a bunch of dishes to try at one of the tables nearby.

• Foodland Mercado at 1099 E. Main St. in El Cajon. I love the sopes in their taqueria--it's a thick, tart-like tortilla filled with beans and carne asada or chicken, then topped with crema, cheese and salsa. They also have a wonderful grilled whole chicken, tacos, tortas and burritos.

• Mercado 2000 International at 1415 3rd Ave., in Chula Vista. This place was a happenstance discovery I made with my friend chef Deborah Schneider while we were hunting for someplace else. But we were rewarded by our curiosity. Around the corner of the store in the parking lot, they have a little taco shop. Truly, it's nothing to look at but the food is delicious: tacos, tortas, tamales. I had what's called a mulita, basically a thick tortilla sandwich with grilled chicken, cilantro, scallions, avocado and cheese. Plus a taco made with lingua (tongue).

• Lucky Seafood on 9326 Mira Mesa Blvd. in Mira Mesa. I had my first banh mi sandwich here and it set me off on a course of true love. It's a warm, crispy French baguette encasing a little pate, pork or other meat, jalapeno pepper slices, sprigs of cilantro and shredded carrots. It's a wonderful mouth experience. And that's just at the express counter. Attached to the shop is a little restaurant where you can get the most amazing pho. Large, steaming bowls of soup filled with different meats and accompanied by herbal condiments make for a hearty meal.

And what about the farmers markets? My choices for dining and then shopping are the Hillcrest, Little Italy and La Jolla markets. At the Hillcrest market, try the trio of tacos for $5. Or the empanadas.


And get a cup of coffee with coconut-flavored whipped cream from my friend David at the orange truck that is Joe's on the Nose (he's also at the Little Italy Mercato on Saturdays). At the La Jolla market are crepes and kabobs, waffles and a full complement of Mexican food. In Little Italy and Hillcrest, the terrific Rey Knight of Knight Salumi is now grilling sausages and making sandwiches.

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Lucky Seafood: Where Vietnam Meets Mira Mesa

I have to admit, as much as I love Vietnamese food, I’m almost always quietly sunk in confusion when I look at a menu. I’m never quite sure what I’m ordering, probably because I don’t eat Vietnamese food regularly enough–but, of course, that’s because I hate being embarrassed by my own ignorance.

At some point, this silliness just had to stop. So, I recently bought myself a reference book, the wonderful Vietnamese cookbook by Andrea Nguyen, “Into the Vietnamese Kitchen” (Ten Speed Press, 2006), and decided to explore Lucky Seafood on Mira Mesa Blvd. at Black Mountain Road in Mira Mesa.

The first thing to know about Lucky Seafood is that it is practically mandatory that you go there not just to shop, but to eat. A lot. Choose between the restaurant attached to it, Pho Lucky, where you can get the most amazing Pho (noodle soup) or the takeout counter in the store itself, which offers a variety of Chinese and Vietnamese dishes with noodles on the side and—my favorite—traditional sandwiches on toasted French rolls.

The first time I went to Lucky Seafood, I was with my parents and we decided to try the restaurant.

It was a Sunday afternoon and Pho Lucky was hopping with families and lots of 20-somethings diving into their dishes with the restaurant’s vibrant green chopsticks in hand. I ordered the Tai, Nam, Gau, Gan, Sack Pho (noodle soup with thin slices of rare steak, well-done flank steak, brisket, tendon and “stripe” – tripe). My mom ordered Bun Tom Thit Nuong (rice vermicelli with fried shrimp and chewy sticks of cane sugar) while my dad ordered Bun Cha Gio Thit Nuong (rice vermicelli topped with egg rolls and slices of luscious BBQ pork).

What we got were enormous steaming white bowls filled with meals for two, along with condiments. Their dishes came with bowls of vinegar and chili oil with shredded carrots. Mine came with bean sprouts, lime wedges, sprigs of basil and slices of jalapeño peppers. I also ordered the Thai iced tea with tapioca. We all laughed when it arrived—it looked like a peach frappe topped with whipped cream. Something a 14-year-old girl would order. But, it was sensational, and I love the chewy black balls of tapioca.

When I went back to shop on my own the following week, I decided to try one of the sandwiches and ordered their French sandwich. You can bring the takeout dishes into the restaurant to eat, so I found a little table in the back and was intoxicated by the smells when I unwrapped the sandwich.

I’m not exactly sure just what was inside, but between the crispy toasted slices of French roll were delicate slices of meat and pate, sweet vinegared vegetables—shredded carrots, cucumbers, maybe jicama), sprigs of cilantro and slices of jalapeño. In one bite, you get cool and hot, sweet and tangy, and a quick punch of fire from the pepper slices. Quite simply, it’s one of the best sandwiches I’ve ever eaten.

All that, and I hadn’t even gone shopping yet! So, let’s take a quick turn around the market, understanding that as hard as I tried, many of the products there still elude me.

And, that would include those in the produce department. It’s filled with wonderful mysteries. Unfortunately, a lot of the products are anonymous. The store does a lot of the same kind of packaging that 99 Ranch does, bundling up produce in plastic wrap instead of selling it loose. But, they don’t label the packages and frequently don’t label the bins they sit in. So, I saw a lot of interesting things that I simply can’t tell you about.

What I could identify, however, was intriguing. There were banana blossoms, firmly sealed in plastic, yet still alluring. These are actually buds, not blossoms, and should feel firm and solid to the touch. Slice in half lengthwise, take out the core and cut the rest into half circles to then soak in vinegar water before including it in a salad with dried shrimp and pork or chicken.

There were gorgeous whole green papayas and a bin filled with it already shredded. It’s commonly treated as a vegetable in Vietnam, and can be pickled, added to soup or featured in a salad.

I've been curious about green papaya for years so I bought about a quarter of a pound of the shredded papaya and made a salad from a recipe from Gourmet magazine. I augmented it with small cooked shrimp, chopped peanuts and chopped cilantro.

It was the perfect dish for a hot summer night. Yes, it is very spicy, but as a cold dish it's also very refreshing. The green papaya is sweet and crunchy, and pairs well with shrimp. The peanuts and cilantro round out the flavors and texture. It's really a delightful salad.

I bought several Japanese cucumbers, which on a hot day I enjoy thinly sliced and marinated in rice vinegar, a little sesame oil and red pepper flakes, topped with toasted sesame seeds just before eating.

The various herbs caught my attention, particularly Tia to and kinh gioi, which are in the mint family. I bought a bunch of the kinh gioi, with its lovely purple and green leaves.

Last night, using a recipe I adapted from epicurious.com I steamed a sea bass fillet with tiny baby bok choy and plump shitake mushrooms in sake, vegetable broth, smashed garlic, minced ginger and Maggi seasoning sauce. Once everything was cooked, I added chopped cilantro and kinh gioi to the remaining broth, which had thickened, and poured it over rice and the fish and veggies. The kinh gioi added another layer of flavor to an already complex sauce.

Then, there was the green, nubby jack fruit. The store sells it whole (easily enough to feed a dozen people), and they also have it packaged in small cut sections, which display its unusual yellow fruit with bulging seeds and fibrous meat.

Jack fruit is the largest fruit on earth—one can top 100 pounds—and is in the same family as breadfruits and figs. I bought one of the small pieces and found it sweet, but not overly so, kind of the same unusual quality as a papaya. And, don’t toss the big seeds. You can boil them, then roast them and I’m told they taste like chestnuts.

Another unusual fruit—sold frozen not fresh at Lucky Seafood—is durian.

Instead of green nubs, it has a big brown spiny rind, here partly hidden by the yellow webbing of the packaging. They also are huge—and, fresh, have a reputation for being quite stinky. But, this is worth a try. Lucky Seafood sells small pieces of the pulp, frozen and easily defrosted in the microwave. What you end up with is a cream-colored, custard-like texture with overtones of vanilla. Eat it in a bowl with a spoon, add it to a tropical smoothie or to a fruit salad with other tropical fruits.

Right now, also take a look for the boxes of sweet plums near the registers. These truly live up to their name.

Of course, if you’re going to shop at a Vietnamese market, you have to buy noodles. There’s an entire aisle dedicated to dried noodles—rice sticks, broad bean threads, tapioca sticks, coiled dried egg noodles and more. And, you will find packages of tortilla-shaped rice paper for making spring rolls. Try to avoid those made with “tapioca flour” instead of rice flour. They don’t have the same taste or consistency. The Red Rose brand is the one to look for, according to vietworldkitchen.com, which, it turns out is Andrea Nguyen's site.

As for the noodles, I opted for fresh over dried and picked up a package of flat rice noodles for soup and something that looked so intriguing I got it and just hoped for the best. These were banh cuon, or rice rolled noodles.

There’s actually an amusing youtube video that shows how they’re made—amusing because the woman is wearing only one glove. But, you can see that this starts out as a batter, becomes a very thin, crepe-like noodle onto which some filling—probably green onion, ground pork or shrimp, mushrooms and fish sauce—is placed, then rolled up. Traditionally, they are served warm with a nuoc cham (basic dipping sauce) and herbs. Since I bought them pre-made, I heated them briefly in the microwave and made nuoc cham, using the recipe from Andrea's “Into the Vietnamese Kitchen.” It’s very easy and very tasty:

1/3 cup fresh lime juice (2 or 3 limes)

1 tablespoon unseasoned Japanese rice vinegar (optional)

3 tablespoons sugar

2/3 cup lukewarm water

5 to 6 tablespoons fish sauce

2 or 3 Thai or Serrano chiles, thinly sliced

2 cloves garlic, minced (optional)

1. In a small bowl, combine the lime juice, vinegar, sugar and water and stir to dissolve the sugar. Taste and adjust the flavors to balance the sweet and sour as needed.
2. Add the fish sauce, starting out with 5 tablespoons and then adding more as your palate dictates, balancing the sour, sweet, and salty. Aim for a light honey or amber color and a bold, forward finish. When you’re satisfied, add the chiles and garlic.

The noodles are pure comfort food, deliciously soft and chewy, with the flecks of green onion and dried shrimp adding a subtle flavor. The nuoc cham completes it. It's a wonderfully versatile sauce I am using for steamed veggies as well.

Obviously, if you are at Lucky Seafood, you have to check out the seafood. Indeed, the entire back of the store is the meat/poultry/seafood counter. You’ll find everything from ox tails and pork feet to braided beef gut and duck legs, along with the usual cuts of meat and poultry. And, of course, the fish—whole, fillets, steaks. Crawfish and clams. Fish paste, fish balls and cooked octopus. There were some amazing looking sea creatures, including the rainbow-colored parrot fish.

I came this close to buying the small blue crabs a young woman was determinedly wrangling from their tank.

Above and nearby were tanks filled with masses of catfish, tilapia, carp, lobster and Canada crab.

Finally, check out the aisle with all the sauces.

You can not only buy any number of varieties of fish sauce, you’ll find black vinegar and coconut vinegar and spiced vinegar, mirin, red chile paste—and its variations, such as with mustard, garlic or pepper—shrimp roe soy sauce and Maggi seasoning sauce.

This last sauce is unusual both in its taste and history. While made out of pure vegetable protein, it actually has a rather meaty flavor. It was invented in Switzerland in the late 19^th-century, and probably brought to Vietnam by French colonialists, according to Nguyen. It’s great as a dipping sauce or added to marinades, sprinkled in sandwiches or on noodles.

Lucky Seafood is located at 9326 Mira Mesa Blvd. at Black Mountain Road.

Have some thoughts about Lucky Seafood or other ethnic markets in San Diego? Do you have a favorite neighborhood market or shop that carries unique or unusual foodstuff? Let me know or add to the conversation by clicking on comments below:

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