Behind the simplicity

I have returned from two bookshops after an intensive search of cook books, dessert recipe books in particular. I was swallowed by all photos of desserts prepared and photographed just to make people get mouth watered. Being drown in that ocean of exotic food, I have just asked myself where I am. The question may be answered with my zero baking ability, and also with my culture. The former answer is evident, and that's the reason of my search of dessert recipe books. The latter answer is taking me a lot of time indeed.

It is quite understandable why this kind of photo is never found in any cook books in bookshops (at least which I have been to).

That is a kind of dessert in my home country, exactly in my home town. Chè bông cau, roughly translated as areca flower sweet soup is found both rustic and royal in Hue, my home town. Materials are only steamed mung bean in light sweet boiled water, but the dessert has a firm position both in everyday rustic life and solemn occasions. I have no idea of the origin of this dessert, but am very able to feel and create the connection of its simplicity and the aroma of areca flowers, which smells soft and enchanting. Those who have sensed areca flowers would agree with me the flower is a quiet beauty. It's like a girl one comes to know and decides to live with in one's whole life. Yes, it is the simplicity that earns the dessert's position in solemn occasions.
When I delve into the thought about what simplicity is, like when I sense chè bông cau with all my senses, there arises in me a connection between this food and people and their land behind. That I am not a foreigner to this food makes the meaning of simplicity held by me grows a distinct way.

Habits blind a cook's eyes

When it comes to Hue food, I found myself conservative. I believed good food must be original and authentic. I enjoy the fact that I have to work really hard to make my food authentic and truly Hue-styled. The enjoyment indeed comes from my hard seeking for authentic materials, choosing servingware, styling food, and adorably gazing the product.

When it comes to cookery cultivation, I have found myself in the line of openness. I want to be and am open to acquiring this art to my fullest. It is this 'wanting' many times moves me forward and backward in cooking and evaluating food. Chè bắp Huế (Hue styled sweet corn sweet soup) can be a brilliant example for this point.


Due to its being starchy, Hue sweet corn is often made to give (slightly) thick sweet soup. This version used to grow my tastebud up and embrace my enjoyment, at least until I encountered another breed of sweet corn in NZ. It is not starchy at all. Each slice comes on its own. It is something quite different from its 'name sake' in Hue. It is therefore a puzzle for me. Whether to keep my embraced version or to change? Why do i have to keep the authenticity while I cannot bring about a real one? Honestly, I did try by putting some flour in my soup, and it turned out not to be worthy to dive my tastebud in. Why can't corn sweet soup be as light as other kinds of sweet soups?


I now hold the belief that the light version can be something worthy to appreciate new dimensions in gastronomy.