Did you know that boba tea originated from Taiwan in the mid-80s and that it took another 15 years for it to arrive in Australia? In my view, it arrived on time. I was ready for comforting, chewy balls of starch, a staple treat fueling my pre-teen bullshit era, where my worries were tied to whether I could keep my Neopets alive. FYI I owned and nurtured a rainbow Chomby - a flex in my eyes because it was kind of a big deal.
(Rainbow Chomby. Photo credit: Jelly Neo’s Wardrobe)
When I was too young to catch public transport alone, I used to “study” at my school library while waiting for my mum to pick me up. This is where I’d play heaps of Neopets, except for when my piggy bank had reached the minimum threshold required for a bubble tea run. My primary school friend Joanna and I would make our way down to Easy Way in Burwood. Although we thought it was a bit of a walk for a couple of unsupervised nine year olds, the rich sounds of silver clinking in our pockets would get us so excited, each jingle telling the world that these bichs were about to live it up.
(Easy Way in Burwood Westfield. Photo credit: The Easy Way Burwood Facebook Page)
I’d get myself a honeydew melon boba tea. Tantalisingly served in a clear cup that showcased its vibrant light green colour. Absolute vibez. The tapioca balls would settle at the bottom, peeking through the misty melon-infused, dew-kissed liquid. Again, vibez. It was one of the few times I felt I could go out to get something familiar to me, that every single one of my friends loved. Even to the uninitiated, where I had to confusingly describe for them boba as either pearls, sticky balls, or bubbles in milky or fruity tea. Imagine hearing that for the first time lol. I prefer sticky balls btw.
Honestly, I was just happy they were keen to try it. 20 and a bit years later, I’m thrilled to see that the sticky balls revolution has paid off, with bichs lapping up old, new and evolving forms of bubble tea left, right and centre. If you’re concerned about the bubble tea choices I make today, I can assure you I’ve graduated from honeydew melon tea, and haven’t deviated from lychee oolong tea for a while. I get half ice with no sugar + aloe, basil seeds and rainbow jellies xx.
(Boba in the weirdest forms. Photo credit: Campus Magazine Singapore)
Reflecting on this memory reminded me how much more receptive the Western world is to Eastern goods these days. Hooray for culcha, and also, thank fuck. It’s so great to see glutinous goods being enjoyed because, as we can all agree, texture is such a core component to your perception of flavour, making a dish dynamic, and showcasing creativity, freshness and quality. And when it comes to texture, it’s hard to get anything better than that bouncy, sticky, elastic chew. Think: mochi, tang yuan, Daifuku, tapioca/ cassava pudding or cake, the chewy outside of fried manchurian sweet and sour pork, and chè trôi nước. OOOOOFT right!? And respectfully, to those who are sensitive to chewy goodness, grow up lmaoooo u lil bich. Jk I can fix you. Anyway, given my personality trait for the month is I’ve been to Vietnam, let me introduce you to bánh ram ít.
(Poster of some of my fave chewy treats lmaooooooo - are you as proficient in MS Powerpoint as I am? Photo Credit: Me)
Bánh ram ít
Imagine biting through a crispy exterior and into a soft, chewy centre that explodes with the umami of pork and shrimp, the green sweetness and bite of spring onion, and the distinct saltiness of premium Vietnamese fish sauce. FFFFFF. This isn’t just a dish. It’s a demonstration of the artistry, thoughtfulness, flavour and textures that Vietnamese cuisine is celebrated for. What makes Bánh ram ít - it - is how well each component highlights the harmonious interplay between all the textures and flavours.
I’ll never forget that hot, sunny day sitting on the plastic chairs of Bánh bèo Bà Bé in Da Nang. Here I bit through the opening crunch of the ram (crispy rice cake), into the soft harmony brought by the ít (sticky rice dumpling), which was followed by the burst of the rich, complex and melodic filling as a grand finale. What a SENSORY experience. And what an idea by our friends from Central Vietnam. So obvious too. I mean, like HELLO, why not perch a perfectly steamed glutinous rice shell that houses a heartwarming filling atop a fried-until-golden, crackling crisp rice cake!? Not surprised if this was designed to please the many royal palates of the Nguyen Dynasty. 100% satisfaction guaranteed.
(The Bánh ram ít Carlos and I enjoyed. Photo credit: Carlos)
If you get a chance to visit Central Vietnam - Hue, Da Nang or Hoi An - I really encourage you to look out for Bánh ram ít. In Da Nang, Bánh bèo Bà Bé is where many locals eat. It’s 20k VND (~$1.20 AUD) for a plate. The Aunties that run the joint were so sweet and so helpful. They even sauced up our various bánhs for us. It was served with the Central Vietnam sweet and spicy fish sauce for dipping, which complemented the savoury mixture and balanced the dish’s overall profile. I don’t recall their variation having mung beans in the filling, but it definitely had prawn and pork. Great execuse for me to find more of this so if you know where I can get something close in Sydney, PLEASE TELL ME ASAP. I don’t even care if it doesn’t come close. Just feed me pls, OKKKKK. XOXOXOXO.