Forking around with fusion

Though I firmly stand against colonialism, it's undeniable that it has produced some incredible fusion cuisine. My absolute favorite fusion comes from the Indochine era, when the French colonized Vietnam. 

You've tasted the spoils of this fusion. Banh mi is a common sandwich these days, featuring the charbroiled meats, fresh herbs, and pickled vegetables of Vietnamese cuisine. But they are encapsulated within a French baguette, crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside, and smeared with creamy pate. It's undeniably sublime.

Where would we be today if Marco Polo hadn't traveled the Silk Road to Asia, where he brought back noodles to the Italians? Italian pasta dishes as we know them wouldn't exist, and we'd be eating Bolognese over...rice? Nowadays, inventive chefs create fusion dishes from pure heart and curiosity, without the need for Silk Road voyages or pillaging foreign lands. Modern chefs brought us Korean BBQ tacos (pictured above), Thai pizza, and so much more. Korean bakeries these days rival the buttery, flaky output from Europe. 

And yet Indochine cuisine is still my favorite. I love the fresh, bold flavors of Vietnamese dishes, and the creamy comfort of French food. When my husband and I visit the D.C. area, we always stop at a chaotically beautiful mecca called Eden Center. It's a shopping center with live music in the parking lot, mall-like corridors hidden between the stores, and packed with all things Vietnamese.

While the Vietnamese community owns the businesses in the shopping center, customers extend far beyond those from their native country. Revelers come to nurse their hangovers with steaming bowls of pho Thai and Vietnamese coffee (a perfect cure). Families grocery shop, teens hang out in Boba cafes. We frequent Eden Center for lunch and shopping, where we always enforce this rule when shopping in an international market: Buy something new every time. Over the years of trial and error, you will have a wonderful grasp on what different countries have to offer.  

In one Vietnamese bakery, I decided to try a flaky pastry called pate chaud. It translates to hot pate, though the interior wasn't a classic pate. It was firmer and textured, and still delicious. But what was I eating? I couldn't tell. I was so excited that I brought a pastry home to my sister, who could not eat it. "I don't do well with mystery meat," she said. But this is why we have the internet, no? Turns out, pate chaud is made mainly from pork, but has chopped woodear mushrooms diced in, which gives it an aromatic umami punch. But tossed in with the meat mixture, those who aren't in the know might be curious.

This rare treat is expensive, and I can't seem to find it in the Richmond area. So naturally, I do what all food lovers do. I figured out how to make it myself. Turns out? Woodear mushrooms are common in Asian grocery stores, but if you're not looking for them, you'd never know. All of the other ingredients are very common: pork, pastry dough, eggs, etc. 

If you love the flaky, buttery crusts of French pastry, and the umami-driven meats of Vietnamese dishes, whipping up a batch of pate chaud is as easy as making the filling in a big bowl, putting it into pre-made pastry dough, and baking it. It looks gourmet and tastes sophisticated, but the actual labor is laughably minute. 

I used a recipe similar to this, only I added a dash of wine to make the filling feel even more French. Another tip: You needn't just use the egg yolks to glaze the pastries. I did that the first time (pictured above) but had leftover egg whites. The second time, I used the whole beaten egg. The end result? Still golden, only shinier! If you make this while entertaining, you will be sure to wow your guests, and have them wondering how you pulled it off. 

And whether it's pate chaud or another fusion, I'll say what I always say. Use what you have. Play around. Take some chances. People who experiment have brought us gems like Vindaloo (Portuguese and Indian), Spam musubi (American and Japanese) and Tex-Mex. Have fun!