I’m officially the Curry lady. It’s an identity I’m embracing even though banh mi used to be my calling card. As a pop-up chef, I’ve made 300-400 bowls of curry in the last six months, more than the total banh mis I’ve made in the last four years.
Curry ( cà ri in Vietnamese) emerged as the answer to a simple question- what’s one thing I can make that feeds many? It had to be tasty, nutritious, and flex my cultural sensibilities. Lemongrass, turmeric and other curry spices, coconut milk, a can of cooked chickpeas. Voilà, the lunch special was born at Phoenix Cafe at Esperanza Health Center. Customers often chose it over banh mi. Those who ordered it previous weeks kept coming back for more or sometimes brought along a friend. I was curious how far I could go with it.
I usually have a hard time sticking to one thing. Maybe it’s out of boredom or the same instinct that drew me to travel to places unknown, like Texas. I always had a different view out of the van window, a new path to walk with my dog every morning, and meals that never tasted the same twice. There’s so much to see and do and I tend to have FOMO (fear of missing out). But with this curry dish, I gave myself permission to be consistent. Exploration can feel endless at times. It’s hard to know when to stop and instead, look deeper, right where I am.
No curry ever tasted the same, though. Some weeks I used red kidney beans, other weeks black beans. I experimented with different veggies, like the sweet potato. White sweet potato, then purple sweet potato, which made the curry the color of mud. Finally, I went with the orange sweet potato because it popped against the sea of turmeric yellow.
Out of the pot and into the bowl, I continued to build on it. I garnished it with fresh shredded cabbage for crunch like the Japanese curry. (Fun fact: Cabbage can stay fresh for as long as a month in the fridge!) In the Vietnamese tradition, I’d add chilli, salt, and lime for brightness and balance. Among the possible options of carbs, rice noodles were the unanimous crowd-pleaser, best for slurping up the sumptuous broth.
Then, I had a big break: a catering order for a 200-person retreat. I’ve never catered for that large of a group, but I knew I had to keep currying.
It was a puzzle: how do I transport it? who can help me ? how is it served? how do I ensure it will taste the same for 200 as it does for the 15 people I make it for daily? As someone who doesn’t write down recipes, now seemed like a good time to start. So I made a pot of curry, using a bowl and scale at each step of the process, noting the weights and measurements. I couldn’t believe how easy it was to “math” the process without sacrificing flavor and fun. To date, it’s one of the most savored batches of curry that I made (3 pots to be exact). I guess with enough focus all poured in one dish, I learned what I was made of. I can be systematic, even though I’m good at being spontaneous. I can be organized even if I’m also a beautiful mess. One thing’s for sure, I can trust myself to create a labor of love for more people than I’m comfortable with, given enough preparation and a desire to share.
A week or so after that event, someone stopped by the cafe, leaned in and whispered, “did you make that curry for the retreat? ” with wide eyes. “Yes, it was me,” I smirked.
I’ve taken a few breaks from making curry, but never for long. The golden glow just made my eyes smile. The aromas of lemongrass, ginger and onion filled the hallways of the health center and announced lunch time! And the velvety richness of coconut milk demanded sharing, especially for the unassuming new customer who could be anyone; a neighbor, a doctor, a zumba instructor, or a visitor simply passing by.
Want to try our curry? Book us for a 45-minute cooking demo with sampling or our banh mi & curry lunch catering here
Below: Loan is sharing her passion for curry with a cooking demo for Seniors at Esperanza Health Center
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