Vietnamese Bun Noodles
"America's my home." —Mom
I contemplate the weight of what Mom said—America has always been my home, so that subtle shift of national identity isn't something I've experienced. Around age seven a grocery clerk asked me where I was from—I felt confused and didn't know how to answer. I knew I was Chinese by lineage, but I identified as American, so I replied, "I'm mixed, I'm Chinese and American!" Mom promptly corrected me and said, no, "She's full Chinese but born in America."
I've always considered myself an American because in every respect, I am one—despite J. Crew employees trying to convince me that I can fit into a size XXXS because it's designed specifically for Asians, sorry, I'm not that petite. I grew up singing "America the Beautiful," "God Bless America," "The Star Spangled Banner," etc. literally every day during elementary school. I owned an impressive collection of Old Navy flag shirts, and come time for the Olympics, I rooted for Team USA all the way.
Not so much for Mom. When I was growing up she always rooted for China. During the Sydney Olympics we were watching the women's USA vs. China volleyball match and when China won, I didn't talk to Mom for the rest of the night. I couldn't understand why she cheered on China, because we're Americans—we live in America. But at the time, she still saw China as her home. Fast forward to 2016, and I'm on the phone with Mom watching the women's USA vs. China volleyball match. She says, "I'm rooting for America."
The shift didn't happen overnight, but it can be tracked by the Olympic calendar because these games bring out national pride—you cheer for the team you identify with, the ones wearing your home country's color on their backs. And somewhere along the way, Mom started rooting for Team USA over China. She supposes it's because she's lived in America longer than she lived in China, and this country has given her so much that it doesn't seem right to root for any other country.
As the 2016 Rio Summer Olympics draw to a close, it's clear that Team USA dominated the Games—which pleased both Mom and me. I think it's partly because of the diverse nature of our team, representative of the diverse nature of our country. And to celebrate, I wanted to make a dish that reflects this belief, and nothing takes the cake like the Vietnamese bun noodle, because it melds together so many different ingredients—from the lemongrass pork, to the vermicelli noodles, to the cucumber, to the fish sauce—to create one amazing, unified gold medal of a dish.
Prep: 1 hour Assemble: 5 minutes
INGREDIENTS (FOR 2)
| 1/2 lb lemongrass pork | 1/4 cup unsalted peanuts |
| 1/4 pack vermicelli noodles | 2 Kirby cucumbers |
| 2 stalks scallion | Fried shallots to taste |
| 1 tbsp grapeseed oil | Thai basil to taste |
| 1/4 lb bean sprouts | Fish sauce to taste |
PREPARE
1. Make lemongrass pork.
2. While that's cooking, bring a pot of water to boil and toss in vermicelli noodles and cook for 10 minutes.
3. Chop the scallion and set aside. Heat up the grapeseed oil and toss in the scallion, stirring frequently to prevent burning. Doing this will bring out a smoky flavor in the scallion. Pour mixture into a bowl and set aside.
4. Check on the vermicelli noodles, and test them with a bite. If they're done, then drain like you would any normal pasta, run under cold water to stop the cooking process, and set aside.
5. Tear apart the leaf of the lettuce into rough fourths. Set aside.
6. Slice up the cucumbers and set aside.
ASSEMBLE
1. Start with the vermicelli noodles as your base.
2. Add the smoky scallion sauce.
3. Toss in the cucumber, pork, lettuce, and bean sprouts.
4. Top with peanuts and fried shallots.
5. Drizzle with Vietnamese fish dipping sauce.
EAT
Mix everything together and enjoy! Egg rolls usually make an appearance in traditional Vietnamese bun noodles, so feel free to add them to yours as well.
