How to make Vietnamese banh xeo

For those of us who entered adulthood in the ’80s and ’90s, the influence of Vietnamese restaurants can’t be overestimated.

A thing of beauty: banh xeo in Vietnam

I’ve waffled on before about the significance of Vietnamese immigration to those of us who entered adulthood in the ’80s and ’90s, particularly in Melbourne and Sydney. The proliferation of affordable Vietnamese restaurants when many of us were earning our first pay cheques is responsible for a million unquittable restaurant habits. In Melbourne’s Victoria Street, Footscray and Springvale and Sydney’s Cabramatta and Marrickville, we got used to eating out. It just happened to be spring rolls, pho, Vietnamese “coleslaw” and banh xeo.

When my wife came from Perth to live in Melbourne 11 years ago she was surprised by the frequency with which I proposed: “Vietnamese?” Having lived most of her adult life in the West and London the food of Vietnam simply wasn’t part of her cultural makeup.

I found myself nicking out for pho and rice paper rolls solo rather a lot, a private pleasure. But one thing at my favoured haunt in Victoria Street really took hold with both of us: banh xeo, the turmeric coloured/flavoured crisp-shelled “crepe” filled – in our case – with prawns and bean shoots, stir-fried onion and pork belly, but of course with a thousand variants. My wife just loves anything made with a batter, and flicks me the pork. I love anything with a hot nuoc cham dipping sauce and fresh herbs. Win win. For both of us, the appeal of the “crunch” achieved with rice flour is significant to the impact; a soft banh xeo is a failure.

Now, the diaspora of Vietnamese restaurateurs does not extend to regional WA – not in any sense that reminds me of Melbourne, anyway. And necessity is the mother of cookery experiments. My hoppers (last week) may be a work in progress but the banh xeo are proving a lot closer to something your average citizen of Hanoi could potentially recognise as lunch. They are less dependant on specific cooking equipment (a crepe pan is perfect, according to Vietnamese expert Mark Jensen at Red Lantern) and because the batter doesn’t ferment with yeast, the process is straightforward, the technique rather simple.

Throw 300g of fine rice flour (from an Asian grocer) and two heaped teaspoons of turmeric powder into a bowl; whisk in about 300ml of coconut milk and a similar quantity of water. Let it rest for at least two hours, and that’s your batter.

Start simple: stir-fry some onion with garlic, fish sauce and a bit of sugar and throw in fresh prawns at the end. Cook lightly. Swirl some batter around the entire surface of your favourite pan and cook for about three minutes before scattering the filling, including fresh bean shoots and spring onion, over half the crepe. Fold – like an omelet – and serve with iceberg lettuce, Vietnamese mint and dipping sauce. Dinner and nostalgia trip in one bite; if only I could buy Vietnamese mint out here.