(gentle music)
Welcome to my world.
(upbeat electronic music)
Two Escargot, Pate, Frise.
Two green salads.
Lamb chops, steak frite.
Shouldn't you be
doing something?
Two smoked filet
and a pepper steak.
Come on,
make the dessert.
Chocolate tart please.
[Anthony] As a cook, tastes
and smells are my memories,
and now I'm in
search of new ones.
So I'm leaving New York
City and hope to have a few
epiphanies around the world,
and I'm willing to go to
some lengths to do that.
I am looking for extremes
of emotion and experience,
I'll try anything,
I'll risk everything,
I have nothing to lose.
(soft atmospheric music)
Vietnam, it's beautiful,
it's dreamlike, it's exotic.
It has a very sensuous nature.
It's an intoxicating
place to be.
You can see why generations
of Frenchmen and Americans
went insane here.
But frankly I've got the
whole insanity thing down.
I'm here to experience the
flavors and textures of.
Vietnamese cuisine,
from everyday fare
to the wildly exotic.
And maybe a little taste
of the French influence.
On first arrival it is
just sheer excitement.
Ho Chi Minh City is a
real throng of people.
People are in constant motion.
It's a little
intimidating at first.
It's amazing what people
can fit on two wheels.
Whole families all squeezed
on a tiny little motorbike.
I'd like it if New York
were more like this.
Basically taxis, scooters,
and little two
stroke motorcycles.
Traffic flows at
inexplicable and
wondrous patterns in space.
Walking here is a challenge,
you gotta be awake.
Off to the market,
look at some roots and snouts.
The markets are always
wonderful places to sample all
the local fare, and I'm on
the hunt for the ever popular
hot vin lon, fetal duck egg.
But first I've got to
make it across the road.
After the guy in
green, I'm gone.
Hang on,
what you like,
alright.
Dodging this traffic
makes running through
the defensive line of the
New York Giants look like
a stroll through the park.
It is suggested that
this road is one way,
watch your back.
Ben Thanh Market is the
central marketplace in Saigon,
the largest,
busiest in the city.
We enter the market through
the live poultry section.
Nothing like the smell of
poultry excrement and fear.
The smell of a lot
of live poultry,
a lot of food cooking
makes a rather heavy mix.
Actually it smells
better than the
live poultry market in
New York, a lot better.
Americans, we see our
poultry, we see our meat,
in neat plastic wrapped
packages in the supermarket.
We don't have to smell it,
we don't have to
look at its face.
Vietnamese understand
that this started out
as a live creature.
In fact it still is
a live creature until
just before dinnertime.
It seems like a panorama
of cruelty at first,
but is some ways it's more
honest than our system.
Somewhere in this maze of food
is the duck egg I'm looking for.
There are food stalls,
each food stall
specializing in different
aspects of Vietnamese
day to day working
class cuisine.
I'm getting hungry.
Bowls of Pho, which
are noodle soups,
some made with beef and
pork, others with seafood.
Some are spicy with
different kinds of stocks,
cilantro, chilis,
and other garnishes.
A little lime, there's
sprouts and greens.
Maybe we'll have a spring roll.
Places that specialize
in spring rolls, or beef,
or chicken on a stick.
Fruit juices,
sweet.
And in every case it's
spectacularly fresh,
smells good.
Very spicy.
Time and time again you're
struck how proud each
vendor is, they want
you to try their food.
Oh, that's great.
Thanks.
Here it is.
Hot vit lon, fetal duck egg.
One hot vit lon.
Sold and consumed on the
street and in stalls,
it's a popular Vietnamese
snack, especially for men
who believe it
enhances virility.
It's hot.
It's a duck embryo,
matured past half term,
then soft boiled, any takers?
It's a difficult
dining experience.
The vaguely feathery,
furry looking bits here are
actually not bad.
I don't think I'll be
having another though.
I think it's back to
croissant tomorrow.
I don't think I'll be making
that a breakfast staple,
I don't think I'll
be adding that to,
a little Special K with milk,
bacon and fetal duck egg.
Beaks and feathers first
thing in the morning
may have been a bit ambitious.
I'm in need of something
to settle my stomach.
I hook up with a cyclo
driver who assures me
he has just the remedy.
Now most of the cyclo
drivers, they're very proud or
very happy about wherever
it is they take you.
They're all too eager to
take you to their favorite
restaurant, the best bowl
of pho, run you around,
and show you the sights.
But everyone seems to
stare at you when you're
sitting in this thing.
You feel like a bit of rube.
Here's comes Lord Jim,
let's shake him
down for some Dong.
So it's fun if you want
to feel like a posh,
or a visiting dignitary.
Hello, hey!
[Anthony] I feel a
little silly actually,
but I guess it's
something everybody
should do at least once.
Squid soup, so this is what
the cyclo driver had in mind?
Chao Muc? Squid soup?
Vietnamese have a distinctive
culinary approach.
Each dish balances considerable
style of the regional
flavor quartet.
Hot, sour, salty, and sweet.
Eaten together in
perfect harmony.
Smells fabulous, it's good.
Now I'm drinking squid,
what looks like cut
up baguette actually,
the crouton, cilantro,
this is like a pork blood.
It's a cake made of
coagulated, actually what
we're going to see in Portugal.
Like you see it a lot in Europe,
I guess it's just a little
pan cooked, emulsified
blood, it's fabulous.
So I sit there and
eat my squid soup
and watch people go
by on their motos.
Doing the everyday things
they were doing 200 years ago,
and will probably be
doing 200 years from now.
There is a cheerful stoicism
and generosity here,
despite an almost
overwhelming history.
It comes home to you,
even when eating the
simplest bowl of squid soup.
It's remarkable,
look at this place.
As night falls, every street
in Saigon seems to be like.
Sunset Strip.
You got the same type of
low rider, cruise mentality.
And the streets just
completely fill up.
Tonight's destination
is a one of a kind,
family style restaurant,
Com Nieu Saigon.
The first thing you
notice is the sound of
smashing crockery,
typically not a good sign.
My most memorable host in
Vietnam is the inimitable.
Madam Gao.
Welcome everybody.
(laughter)
Oh thank you, you're
so nice, thank you.
It's great to see you again.
I'm happy to see you.
Me too.
This woman is a force of
nature, she's generous.
I'm very happy to have you.
[Anthony] Almost
smotheringly friendly.
I love everybody
come from New York.
[Anthony] She's a mix
of yenta, Jewish mother,
and six-cylinder
Gambino family hoodlum.
The operation she
runs is spectacular.
She thought about this
place for a long time before
she opened it, and it shows.
You look at the tiny little
details, the sort of things
a lifer cook like me notices,
a lifer in the
restaurant business,
there's not a corner
in this restaurant,
not one part that isn't
completely squared away
like a naval vessel.
This is a smooth operation,
this is the way to
run a restaurant.
And of course the clean up
job at the end of this night
must be unbelievable.
In a very western way,
she's figured out a gimmick.
She's researched traditional
Vietnamese cuisine,
and found references to
a way of backing rice
in clay pots.
Then smashing them
open to serve a sort of
crispy rice pilaf.
The waiters keep
sending me sizzling hot
rice cakes sailing through
the air at high speeds.
They're received by a
waiter on the other side
of the room, give a
little bit of English,
flipped up in the
air, cut into pieces,
sauced with fish sauce,
guacnamon scallions,
and deposited on your plate.
It's crispy on the outside,
fluffy in the middle,
and totally delicious.
People love it.
It's a lot of fun.
Of all the meals
I have in Vietnam,
Madam Gao consistently
bowls me over.
I always take care
good my customer.
[Anthony] This stuff
is not only fresh,
it's brilliantly presented.
(rock music)
It's a full on
assault, you know,
attack of brilliant colors.
Lobster, grilled and bathed
in a sweet paprika sauce.
Crab, stir-fried
with sweet basil.
Steamed tiger prawns.
The ingredients she using
are really creative,
and really cute.
Oh it's a Genet flower.
Yeah, it's flower.
Lovely.
[Anthony] Zucchini blossoms
stuffed with ground pork,
dipped in batter,
and deep fried.
So good.
Fish soups, I've had
a lot of fish soups,
but this it the
little cockles, Tofu,
and dill in a fish broth,
is really imaginative
and powerful.
Cuts of pork with tea
marinated hard cooked eggs,
sounds like a strange
mix? It's not.
Everything is so fresh
here, it's crisp.
Really strong, really powerful,
really seductive flavors.
This is the sort of food that
westerners who go to Vietnam
time and time again
come back raving about.
It's mind blowing.
It's the best example of what
the Vietnamese do so well.
Apparently every night
it's like a holiday meal,
ugh, look at this.
A palette cleanser of chilled
mango and custard apple.
If you look around at how
happy people are here,
the expressions
on people's faces.
This makes me wish I
had a bigger family,
so I could bring them all here.
You see new arrivals
coming in on motorcycles
and motor scooters,
they roll right through
the dining room.
Madam Gao is a terrifying
attentive host.
Are you happy? Every
time you come to Vietnam,
you have to come
to my restaurant.
Good bye, thank you so much.
Don't forget me, I
will never forget you.
No, no.
[Anthony] But a word of
advice, if you're thinking
about copying her rice
and crockery gimmick,
think again.
I would not want to make
an enemy of Madam Gao.
Modern Vietnam wouldn't
be the same without
the French influence
of yesteryear.
I'm on my way to La Bibliotech,
a little piece of France
in the heart of Saigon.
A restaurant that
embodies the past.
Madam Dai is a throwback
to the early colonial
days of French occupation.
Bonsoir madam.
This is a women who
speaks French fluently,
educated and largely
raised in France.
Vietnam's fist female lawyer.
I love film.
[Anthony] When in
1975 when the Communists
took over South Vietnam,
turned her offices into a cafe.
Cheers everyone.
Which quickly a meeting place
for visiting dignitaries,
ambassadors, and maybe
a couple of spies.
Oh, incredible.
The victor at Dien
Bien Phu right here.
That's amazing, just incredible.
The Pope, that's extraordinary.
You have some
extraordinary friends.
Even after all these years,
there's a whiff of
aristocrat about her.
Her kitchen speaks
of days gone by.
People that work with her,
she mentioned that one was a
nanny for her children.
I suspect these women have
been with her for decades.
We're having a little
grilled, this is pork,
a little beef wrapped in leaf.
[Dai] It is a
kind of grape leaf.
Ah, grape leaves, oh fabulous.
And this is rice noodles,
looks, ah buddy.
And spring rolls, thank you.
So wonderful, that's
exactly what we need,
we were walking
around in the heat,
overeating all day,
this is so perfect.
These are typical Vietnamese
appetizers and entrees,
presented in a little
corner of France.
This dessert is a
classic creme caramel.
Strictly French.
Now this is a taste
of my childhood.
That's creme caramel.
[Anthony] Guess I brought
that Speedo along for nothing.
(laughter)
You'll be carrying
me out on the gurney.
And of course at
the end of the meal,
she decides to hit us with
this special blend
of snake wine.
A special preparation.
[Anthony] I didn't expect
her to come out with this
big jar of snakes right
after my creme caramel.
Merci.
And like so many
things in Vietnam,
if you drink it, it
will make you strong.
It's good, fear not.
I get real strong in the next
few weeks, let me tell you.
Please come back soon.
[Anthony] There's Madam
Dai in her black dress
and her hair pinned up,
still speaking French,
still in her parlor with
her books, and photographs,
and her memories.
It's yet one of many
really remarkable places
where you can reconnect
with the past in Saigon.
I'm starving, I
could eat a snake,
in fact I could eat a
palpitating snake heart,
in fact that's exactly
what I'm going to do.
One continually hears about
the mythological stamina
giving quality of
certain foods in Vietnam.
And cobra heart is one of them.
Huang Rung restaurant
literally translates to
flavors of the forest,
and you get flavors
of the forest alright.
Roasted field mouse,
lizard, chameleon, mint bat.
What's a teal?
What I'm going for
is the famous, live,
palpitating cobra heart.
Come on, let's go.
This is one of those things
that you just got to do right?
I want the heart
still beating right?
It's one of those
cocktail party stories
that sure to turn mom green.
I don't like that the
waitresses are afraid of this.
I want a cobra heart.
This was a destination for me.
Cool, let's eat.
Essentially they're all
too happy to bring out
a squirming, hissing,
menacing looking cobra.
Let's do the nasty.
They don't seem to have
their mise en place together.
We have our mise
en place together
when I'm making steak frite,
It seems to me, you know,
when you're making live cobra,
you should have your
operating stuff laid out.
Where's the cutting
board, the knife?
Scissors?
You notice the
band-aid on our waiter?
My cobra handler has a
large bandage on his hand,
which leads me to believe
that maybe he was a little
sloppy with the last cobra.
So cobra heart, they
zip that guy open
right in front of you.
They put the beating heart
right into a little dish,
and it's pumping away like
right out of a horror movie.
Hey, come on man, hey, hey,
let's do, while it's fresh,
I want it beating.
Cheers folks.
It feels warm.
It kinda pumps on
it's way down too.
It's still ticking.
Don't think this cobra
is going to waste,
it's about to become
a five course meal.
Snake eating has long
been a valued part
of the medicinal
repertoire of Vietnam.
It makes you strong.
Good, cook that up for me.
Cut it in chunks, sear
in pan, slow braised.
Now this is impressive,
I'm told that every part
of the snake is going to be
prepared into a different
dish for me.
Guy, let's have a shot.
Cheers, looking at you.
Cobra heart makes you strong,
cobra blood makes you stronger.
It kind of tastes
like a bull shot,
a Bloody Mary made
with beef broth.
Come on Emeril, right
here, kick this up a notch.
(reggae music)
They seemed to have
drained some sort of
dark, viscous fluid in here.
It's sort of a worse case
scenario, this is the bile.
I figured I'd be tasting
plenty of that later,
at my hotel.
Yeah, I don't like
this that much.
Now, I thought bile
was a bad thing,
well in Vietnam it
makes you strong,
like everything else does.
Apparently bile makes you
really, really, really strong.
My wife tells me
I'm bilious enough.
Let's eat.
Bones.
Oh, the bones.
Fried cobra bones, they're
crunchy and delicious,
kind of like potato
chips, only sharper.
Not bad, you know, Yankee
game, 7th inning stretch.
I'm not crazy about
the meat that much.
Tastes like chicken.
The skin is a little rubbery.
It's like sushi.
But the tripes was like eating
condoms still in the package.
No that I've done that.
You can chew that all
day, you're not getting
anywhere with it.
I swallowed it all.
And of course the
obligatory cobra soup.
Looks like it's got
some Curry in it.
Tastes like,
Mulligatawny soup.
It's terrific.
How will I ever go back to like
grilled cheese
sandwich and cheerios?
What next?
They brought this
out very proudly.
What the hell is that?
An oversized tree grub squirming
around in all it's glory.
Alright, it's pretty, what
are we going to with him.
You know, I've already
been gargling cobra bile,
and they bring this
along as course two.
Great, there's my grub.
You know the cobra
guts aren't enough,
I gotta do this for the cause.
Thanks.
It's kind of crunchy
on the outside
and creamy in the middle.
Imagine a deep friend
Twinkie, only smaller.
I don't think I'll be
taking a batch home.
It kind of looks like
alien seven, the revenge.
I wouldn't call cobra or tree
grub everyday local fare.
Do they sell this at
D'Agostino, not yet.
Eating them is like
some western food that
the sophisticated
eat without thinking.
The raw oysters,
caviar, foie gras.
Maybe eating snakes and worms
only seems more outrageous
because it's a
different culture.
There are four of five touchstones
of my Asian adventures.
The palpitating cobra
heart is a must do,
I'm not disappointed.
It's exactly as exotic an
experience as I hoped for.
Even a little scarier,
and strangely enough,
I am feeling strong.
(rock music)
(down tempo jazz)
(Vietnamese music)
