Stalking the sizzling crepe

At my house, when the batter hits the hot skillet and makes the “sssssee-oh” sizzling sound, everyone stops and waits for the banh xeo.

Hot from the pan and fragrant from a touch of coconut milk, the crispy-chewy Vietnamese crepe -- filled with pork, shrimp, straw mushrooms and mung beans -- is delivered on a dinner plate. Chopsticks are abandoned for kitchen scissors.

The large, folded-over crepe is cut into manageable portions. A section is placed into a palm-size piece of soft lettuce, and in go some cucumber slices and a few herb leaves. Fingers bundle up the package, then dunk it into a bowl of fish sauce spiked with lime, garlic and chile.

For years I reveled with the rest of my family in our homemade banh xeo (sizzling crepe). Just the onomatopoeia -- of the batter hitting the pan -- was enough to make me forget all my other favorite foods. But last year on my first trip back to Vietnam, I experienced true sizzling crepe enlightenment.

At a market stall in Hoi An, a lovely historic town in central Vietnam, a banh xeo vendor was turning out crepes that were fantastic -- far superior to the versions I’d prepared or eaten stateside. What was the difference?

And so I began a banh xeo odyssey which led me from stalls in Vietnam to my own kitchen, where I finally unearthed a traditional and better way of cooking banh xeo. The secret, I discovered, is in the batter.

In Vietnam, banh xeo are typically made by professional cooks who specialize in crepes with perfect chewy-crisp textures. Those of us making banh xeo in the U.S. often rely on purchased mixes, made chiefly of rice flour, turmeric and cornstarch. The mix-made banh xeo seldom reach perfect crisp-chewiness and soften so quickly you have to rush to eat them.

The crepes I tasted in Hoi An were made to order. Nearly translucent (not opaque like the mix version), they were crispy in texture and toasty in flavor, with an alluring chewiness, like that of perfectly cooked rice.

When each was done, the vendor individually wrapped it in a piece of rice paper -- some purists claim this to be the ultimate way of eating a crepe -- and proudly handed it over.

While I savored her crepe, the vendor asked, “Sister, how is banh xeo made in America?”

I told her about the mixes, but she looked at me quizzically, and I thought my language skills had failed.

“Oh, I bet they make them big, like the ones in the south,” she said, referring to the big, flamboyant, bright yellow crepes made in Saigon (at Vietnamese restaurants in the States, sizzling crepes are often called “Saigon crepes”).

I realized that she understood my words, but couldn’t fathom why a packaged mix would be needed for banh xeo. It was an alien concept.

But this wasn’t just a matter of mixes. Back home I looked for clues on how to make great crepes in cookbooks published in the U.S. and Vietnam. All called for a batter made with rice flour. Through experimentation, I realized that rice-flour batter -- whether it comes from a mix or is concocted from scratch -- produces crepes that quickly lose their crispness. Using extra oil and/or batter during cooking helps, but the crepes may end up greasy or thick.

Rice-flour crepes may also crack at the spine when folded over. Adding an egg, milk or extra coconut milk enriches the batter with fat, but the resulting crepes can lack the crunch that makes them fun to eat.

I fooled around with the idea that the fillings may affect the texture, but varying the pork or kind of mung beans did nothing to the crepe’s texture.

I picked up the phone and called Mom.

“I bet they [the pros in Vietnam] grind their own rice with a stone wheel,” she said, zeroing in on the rice flour itself. “You can try it with a blender,” she suggested, but added, “Why bother? The mix isn’t bad.”

Of course the mix isn’t bad, but neither is it great. How could she, a proud and excellent cook, flagrantly disregard tradition? It was as though she’d thrown down a gauntlet.

Over the course of a week, I soaked and ground raw rice for several batches of batter. Surprisingly, grinding rice wasn’t difficult because the soaking softens the grains nicely. And my blender emulsified the batter to a marvelous silky consistency.

Still, no luck. My crepes were disappointing compared with those I’d had in Vietnam, and they weren’t much better than the rice-flour versions. I went back to the books. In a book on southern Vietnamese cooking that I’d bought in Saigon, I found what I was looking for.

“A delicious banh xeo must be crisp at the edge,” the authors wrote. “The secret, perhaps, is that during the grinding of the batter, some cooked rice and cooked mung beans are added to yield fragrance, flavor and the ideal chewy crunchy texture.”

Bingo. There it was. Starchy foods like rice and beans soften and thicken during cooking, so boosting the raw rice batter should give the crepe chewiness. And, like the bottom crust of paella, the riceand the beans would crisp up in the hot oil and contribute crunch.

There’s usually leftover rice in a Viet kitchen and cooked mung bean is a common filling ingredient. The concept was ingenious and convenient.

All I had to do was figure out how much cooked rice and mung beans to add to the ground rice of the batter. After a few delicious rounds of experimentation (the crepes always tasted good but I was going for texture), I got the right proportion to send the batter over the top.

What did it? A couple of tablespoons of cooked rice and a tablespoon of mung beans.

The results? Fabulous -- just like the ones in Vietnam.

**

Banh xeo (sizzling crepes)

Total time: 1 hour 30 minutes, plus 3 to 4 hours soaking time

Servings: 6

Note: You can use either regular or jasmine rice to yield the perfect crispy-chewy texture. Traditionally, the shrimp is left unpeeled to contribute fragrance and crunch, so white shrimp, which have thin shells, are ideal. But if you’re not into chewing on shells, peel the shrimp first. Tia to, a purple and green herb with a shiso-like flavor, is available at Vietnamese or Chinese markets, but if you can’t find it, use cilantro and mint alone. Chicken breast or thigh may substitute for the pork. If straw mushrooms are unavailable, substitute one-third pound sliced white mushrooms, sauteed and drained. The batter, filling ingredients and dipping sauce may be prepared 3 to 4 hours ahead.

Dipping sauce (nuoc cham)

1/4 cup lime juice

2 tablespoons rice vinegar

2 1/2 tablespoons sugar

2/3 cup water

4 to 5 tablespoons fish sauce

1 clove garlic, finely chopped

1 to 2 Thai bird, dragon or seeded serrano chiles, thinly sliced

1. Place the lime juice, rice vinegar, sugar and water in a bowl and stir to dissolve. Add the fish sauce, starting with 4 tablespoons. Taste and adjust the flavors. Aim for a balance of tart, sweet and salty. Add the garlic and chiles and place in a serving bowl. Makes about 1 1/3 cups.

Batter

1 cup long-grain or jasmine rice

2 tablespoons cooked rice, firmly packed

1 tablespoon steamed, ground mung beans, firmly packed

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon turmeric

1/4 cup coconut milk

1 3/4 cups plus 2 tablespoons

water

1 green onion, sliced into thin rings ( 1/4 cup)

1. Place the raw rice in a bowl and add enough water to cover by 1 inch. Let soak for 3 to 4 hours. Drain.

2. Place the soaked rice in a blender with the cooked rice, mung beans, salt, turmeric, coconut milk and water. Blend until very smooth and lemony yellow, about 3 minutes.

3. Pour the batter through a fine mesh strainer into a bowl and discard the solids. Stir in the green onion. Set aside. As the batter sits, it will thicken to a consistency like that of heavy cream. Makes 3 cups of batter.

Assembly

1/2 cup canola oil, divided

1 1/2 cups thinly sliced yellow onion

3/4 pound ground pork or boneless pork butt or shoulder, thinly sliced

1 (15-ounce) can whole or broken straw mushrooms, drained, cut lengthwise if whole

1/2 pound small (51 to 60 count) or medium (41 to 50 count) white shrimp, trimmed of legs and tails, deveined

1 recipe batter

1 recipe steamed, ground mung beans

6 ounces bean sprouts (about 2 cups)

Leaves from 2 heads butter lettuce or 1 large head red leaf lettuce

1/2 small English cucumber, halved lengthwise, seeded and thinly sliced (1 1/4 cups)

1/4 cup cilantro leaves

1/4 cup mint leaves

1/4 cup torn tia to leaves, optional

1 recipe dipping sauce

1. For each crepe, heat 2 to 3 teaspoons oil in a 10-inch nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. When the oil is hot enough to gently sizzle a slice of onion on contact, add one-fourth cup onion, one-fourth cup pork, one-fourth cup straw mushrooms and 4 medium or 6 small shrimp. Saute quickly, breaking up the meat and letting the ingredients sear and aromatize, about 1 minute. Visualize a line down the skillet’s middle and roughly arrange the ingredients in the two halves. Anything arranged in the middle will make it hard to neatly fold the crepe.

2. Give the batter a good stir with the ladle. Pour about one-half cup batter into the skillet, swirling the skillet to cover the bottom; a bit going up the side forms a lovely lacy edge. The batter should dramatically sizzle (making that “xeo” noise!) and bubble. When it settles down, scatter 2 tablespoons mung beans over the crepe surface and place a one-third cup bean sprouts on one side. Turn the heat down to medium-low, cover and cook until the bean sprouts have slightly wilted, about 3 minutes.

3. Remove the lid and drizzle about 1 teaspoon oil around the edge of the crepe. Continue cooking, uncovered, to crisp the pancake. After about 3 to 4 minutes, the edges should have pulled away from the skillet and turned golden brown. At this point, use a spatula to check underneath. From the center to the edge, the crepe should gradually go from being soft to crispy. Lower the heat if you need to cook further. When you are satisfied, use a spatula to fold one half over the other. Either lift the crepe with a spatula or slide it onto a serving dish. Repeat the cooking process. If there’s leftover batter, make the poor man’s crepe without the goodies.

4. To eat, tear a piece of lettuce roughly the size of your palm and place a piece of the crepe inside (use kitchen scissors or chopsticks to cut the crepe). Add cucumber slices and a few herb leaves. Use your fingers to bundle it up, then dunk it into the dipping sauce.

Each serving: 925 calories; 46 grams protein; 85 grams carbohydrates; 11 grams fiber; 46 grams fat; 10 grams saturated fat; 143 mg. cholesterol; 2,329 mg. sodium.

**

Steamed, ground mung beans

Total time: 15 minutes, plus 2 hours soaking time

Servings: Makes 1 1/4 cups, enough for 8 (10-inch) crepes

Note: Yellow skinned and split mung beans are available dried at Asian and health food markets. The best tool for cooking them is a stainless steel Chinese steamer because it’s easy to manage and clean. If the steamer tray holes are wider than three-sixteenths of an inch, line the tray with parchment to avoid losing beans to the water below.

1/2 cup dried yellow mung beans

1. Place the mung beans in a bowl and add enough water to cover by 2 inches. Let soak 2 hours.

2. Drain the beans and place in the steamer basket, spreading them out to an even layer. Fill the steamer bottom halfway with water and bring it to a rolling boil over high heat. Steam the mung beans until tender, about 8 minutes. Remove the basket from the steamer bottom and set aside to cool.

3. Grind the cooled beans in a mini-chopper or food processor to a fluffy consistency. The texture should resemble fine cornmeal, but you’ll be able to pinch together a bit between your fingers. Steamed, ground mung beans may be frozen and defrosted when needed.

Each serving: 90 calories; 6 grams protein; 16 grams carbohydrates; 4 grams fiber; 0 fat; 0 saturated fat; 0 cholesterol; 4 mg. sodium.