Banh Mi 11 at Berwick Street Market

The banh mi craze swept London last year and I found my favourite, Panda Panda in Deptford. Theirs were chock full of pickled vegetables, delicious pork and encased in a warm, rice flour baguette - what more could I want? I stopped looking. The one downside is, of course, that I don't work in Deptford, or anywhere near it. When I heard that Banh Mi 11, usually a fixture on Broadway Market, now had a pitch on Berwick Street, I couldn't get out of the office fast enough. I crashed into people rushing towards their stall.


And what of the baguette? Light bread was filled with Imperial BBQ pork, coriander, pickled Chinese turnip and was decently spicy. Petra of Eat St was next to me in line and she recommended the fish banh mi, but my eyes were only on the pork. At £5 it's more expensive than my favourite, and I'd have liked a little more (and varied) pickled veg but nonetheless this was an excellent lunch. No more fridge-cold sandwiches from Pret.

Banh Mi 11

Berwick Street Market - Mondays - Fridays 10am - 3pm

Pho Bo

I'm a huge fan of the Vietnamese noodle soup, pho (pronounced 'fur'). Recently, I stumbled upon the sawtooth leaf herb in New Loon Moon in Chinatown, and after spotting some Vietnamese basil, both prominent pho garnishes, I knew it had to be made.

Beef bones were procured from the butcher, and they barely fit in my stock pot. Unlike Chinese noodle soups, the onion and ginger to make the stock are charred to add smokiness.

After simmering for hours, filling the house up with heady smells of cinnamon and star anise, the broth is strained, meat sliced and the classic pho noodles are added. Herbs are served on the side for the diner to add as they wish.

Freshened with a squirt of lime juice, this home-made version was gorgeous (though perhaps Cafe East's version pips it to the post - but theirs is VERY good). The broth was deeply meaty, a thin layer of fat coating the surface and making it impossible to emerge from the table without a splattered t-shirt. I added only slices of brisket; in future, beef tendon and raw slices of steak will be going in for sure.


Pho Bo (Beef Noodle Soup)

Serves 4

For the soup:

1 kg beef bones - you want some with marrow in them. Alternatively, use half beef bones and half oxtail
2 onions
6 slices of ginger
4 star anise
1 stick of cassia bark or cinnamon
1 tsp fennel seeds
1 tsp black peppercorns
1 tsp coriander seeds
2 tsp sugar
400gr beef brisket, in one piece

Put the bones in a pot and cover with water. Bring to the boil and boil for 10 minutes - this helps keep the broth clear. Discard this water and wash the bones and the pot out thoroughly. Add the bones back in and just enough water to cover. In a griddle pan, cook the onion and the ginger without oil until they are charred. Add them to the stock pot. Toast the spices and also add to the pot. Simmer gently for 1.5 hours, then add the beef brisket and simmer for a further 2 hours.

Remove the beef and set to one side. Strain the stock.

400gr pho noodles - if dried, cook in boiling water for 3 minutes (until tender) and drain.
A handful of Vietnamese / sweet basil
A handful of sawtooth leaf
1 lime, quartered
2 tbsp coriander, chopped
Fish sauce, to taste
Chopped birds eye chillis
100gr beansprouts, blanched

Add the noodles to each bowl. Slice the brisket thinly and add to each bowl, then top with steaming hot broth. Serve with the herbs and condiments for each diner to add to their own taste.

Kimchi Summer Rolls

With summer comes an almost weekly procession of barbecues. I was never a bringer of sausages and burgers to a party; last week these fat, squat summer rolls, a hybrid of the Vietnamese and Korean cuisines, made an appearance instead.

Given my propensity for rolling cigarettes, you'd think I'd make a neater bundle. The first always turns out a shocker; the rest, vaguely passable.

For the filling, bouncy prawns and ponytail kimchi were used. This particular type of kimchi is made from the ponytail radish - so called, I suspect, because of its burst of green leaf. Called 'chonggak kimchi', it's peppery. Sliced into batons, it added a good amount of spicy, tangy crunch. Both ponytail radish kimchi and summer roll wrappers should be available at your local Asian supermarket.

Kimchi Summer Rolls

Enough for 6 people

1 packet of summer roll wrapper (I use these)
1 small head of Little Gem lettuce, shredded
A handful of glass noodles, cooked
1 carrot, julienned
10 prawns, cooked and sliced lengthways in half
2 kimchi ponytail radishes, julienned
A small handful of coriander, chopped finely
Greens of 3 stalks of spring onion, shredded
A few stalks of mint, leaves picked
Half a lime

Mix the carrots, glass noodles, radishes, spring onions and lettuce in a bowl. Sprinkle with the juice of half a lime. Meanwhile, add some hand-hot water to a shallow dish. Lay out a clean tea towel. Place the roll wrapper in the water for 10 - 20 seconds, until it becomes soft, then lay on the tea towel. To make things pretty, add a mint leaf to the centre of the circle, then a prawn, sliced in half, below. Add a small bundle of veg etc. under that - roll like this. Or however you see fit.

Sauce:

4 tbsp fish sauce
1 tbsp water
1 tsp sugar
Juice of 1 lime
1 red chilli (hot)
1 clove of garlic

Mince the garlic and chop the chilli. Combine vigorously with the above to serve as a dipping sauce with the summer rolls.

Pork Roll in Banana Leaves

A new Asian supermarket has opened up down the road from my flat, on New Cross Road. When I first noticed it, I bounded inside to be greeted by empty shelves. I gave it a few weeks and returned; while it's still quite sparse, there's fresh tofu in the chiller, big bags of frozen seafood, a whole wall of shelf space dedicated to instant noodles and another wall with all the dried rice noodles you could want for.

There's a strong focus on Vietnamese products and I found this lump of pork in the fridge. Pork roll in banana leaves wasn't cheap coming in at £6, but I bought it anyway. I suspect the slightly clueless man serving me was unsure of pricing. Unwrapping it from its banana leaves revealed what I suspected; a rubbery luncheon meat. It may be off-putting for some, but I'm a huge fan of Spam so it didn't faze me at all.

Perfect for whacking on top of a noodle salad. I believe this is usually eaten cold, or dropped into noodle soups. I decided to fry them in a hot pan so that they crisped up on each side to give it a nice crust. Having tried a slice cold the banana leaves imparted more flavour than I thought it would; slightly vegetal, almost reminiscent of green tea. This salad worked really well; crispy hot salty pork freshened up with the herbs and nuoc cham sauce, with a hefty whack of lime and face-burning chilli. The noodles were properly chewty, flinging bits of dressing all over the place.

Vietnamese Pork & Noodle Salad

Serves 4

400gr dried vermicelli rice noodles
1 carrot
1/2 a cucumber
1 head of Little Gem lettuce
2 stalks of spring onion
1 carrot
1/2 a cucumber
1 Vietnamese pork roll, cut into 8 slices
A handful of coriander
Half a handful of mint
1 tbsp vegetable oil
5 tbsp rice vinegar
1 tsp sesame oil

For the nuoc cham dressing:
2 birds eye chillis
1 tsp sugar
1.5 limes
4 tbsp fish sauce
1 small clove of garlic

Cut the carrot into matchsticks. In a bowl combine the rice vinegar and sesame oil. Halve the cucumber down the middle and scrape out the seeds and pulp, slicing into matchsticks. Add the carrot and cucumber to the bowl and toss to coat.

Cook the rice noodles until soft and then drain, rinsing them under cold water for at least a minute.

In a small bowl, juice the limes and add the fish sauce and sugar. Slice the chillis and mince the garlic, adding them to the lime.

Shred the lettuce and the spring onion, setting to one side. Chop the coriander and the mint roughly. Heat the oil in a non-stick pan and fry the slices of pork on both sides until crispy.

To assemble, add the noodles to a bowl and top with some carrots and cucumber, the lettuce, spring onion and herbs, finally arranging the slices of pork on top. Dress the dish with the nuoc cham.

Panda Panda, Deptford

Like most of my corner of South East London, Deptford Broadway isn't much to look at. Derelict, boarded up shops litter the roads, dodgy old pubs reeking of old men and sweat line street corners. New build housing, all metal and glass gleam incongruously beside railway bridges, but a splash of colour lights up the drab grey, orange letters shining through the fug. Panda Panda, billed as an Oriental sandwich cafe opened here last month. A friend told me of it's existence and I was invited to dinner here. A mere 20 minute walk from my flat, I was excited at the prospect of bubble teas and Hong Kong-style desserts.

The welcoming and friendly owner, Van, is a young Vietnamese man who had taken advantage of a banking redundancy to open Panda Panda. When we arrived, five teenagers lounged around on cafe-style chairs. They asked if they could watch the football and it emerged they had ordered a staggering twenty nine bánh mì to take away. The kitchen staff worked in a frenzy behind the counter to slice, toast and fill the Vietnamese sandwiches from fresh. We were happy to wait for ours with some snacks to share to stave the hunger pangs.

Made with mango and watermelon, my bubble tea was studded with fat chewy tapoica balls. I find something innately childish and fun about these drinks, and this didn't disappoint. Almost like a dessert, it was refreshing and thirst-quenching.

Served in a takeaway style carton, curry fishballs with chilli sauce has long been a Hong Kong street food favourite of mine. At £1.45 a skewer, these were textbook bouncy and chilli-spiked with the merest hint of curry. Summer rolls were crisp and packed with herbs, prawns and noodles served with a standard hoi sin dipping sauce.

A mammoth portion of grilled pork with noodles was priced at an absurdly good value of £3.45. Drenched with an accompanying pot of fish sauce, I felt it could have done with a little more chilli. Nevertheless, I felt smug in the apparent healthiness of all the lettuce, carrot and cucumber I was shovelling down messily. The pork was well marinaded and was satisfyingly juicy.

Half the menu is dominated with bánh mì, the Vietnamese baguette that seems to be taking London by storm. Banhmi11, a stall at Broadway Market is always busy and the short-lived Viet Baguette in Charlotte Street apparently closed to find bigger premises to cope with the demand. Van's aunt previously owned the bánh mì stall at Greenwich Market, which explained his dedication to the cause of finding good bread. Made with rice flour, bánh mì baguette should be crispy and airy, lighter than their French originals.

We tried a traditional baguette made with 'rolled pork & Viet ham'; smeared with pate, a dab of mayo and stuffed with slices of slightly gelatinous ham (this is a good thing), pickled carrot and radish, coriander and lightly scattered with scarlet-red chillis. From the first bite it was clear Van's efforts in sourcing decent bread were not in vain. Crispy but not enough to scrape the roof of your mouth to buggery, it gave way to soft pate and the crunch of the vegetables. The grilled chicken and pork variant was just as successful, though I preferred the livery hint the traditional had. They were polished off with ease.

I was pretty full by this point, but I wasn't about to leave without trying the 'Tofu-Fa', which I haven't seen much of in London. When I was a kid we had a favourite cafe we'd often go to in Hong Kong; right in the middle of a smelly market, they did the best potsticker dumplings which we almost always inevitably followed with this dessert. Served chilled (warm in winter), the wibbly wobbly tofu has the texture of just-set jelly and is sweetened with syrup. Mildly flavoured with soy, it's a cooling and light dessert and to me, is ultimately comforting and reminds me of childhood. I would come back for this alone.

So, another decent local addition. While it's not a place for a long lingering evening, it's perfect to grab a lunch or dinner on the cheap; none of the dishes or sandwiches are over £4.

Oh, and did I mention they make milkshakes with ice cream and a chocolate bar of your choice? I was, sadly, too full but I am already plotting when to get me a Ferrero Rocher milkshake.

Panda Panda

8 Deptford Broadway
London SE8 4PA

Tel: 020 8616 6922

Mien Tay, Battersea

Vietnamese food is quickly becoming an obsession of mine. Fresh clean flavours, some chilli kick, and often the comfort of deeply beefy noodle soups.

Mien Tay is a Vietnamese restaurant on Kingsland Road, part of the many that make up what is known as Pho Mile. Specialising in the cuisine of South Western Vietnam, they recently opened a branch in Battersea and invited me along to sample their dishes. Located on Lavender Hill, it's actually more convenient for me than Kingsland Road is - when timed right it's a mere 30 minute train ride away.

The menu is over-whelmingly long. I was pleased to see some unusual meats, like frogs legs, eel and goat. Whereas I knew exactly what I wanted for my main - how else do you test a Vietnamese place other than by its Pho? - I was more confused about what to have to start. I wanted several different dishes, so I asked our waitress what she would recommend. She told us she'd bring us a selection. Green papaya salad with dried chilli beef (top) was refreshing, light and the jerky-like strips of beef packed a punch. Next, the Banh Xeo came out - a crispy rice flour pancake coloured with turmeric and stuffed to bursting full of pork and beansprouts, with lettuce leaves and herbs for us to wrap and dip. It was deliciously messy business, and there wasn't a scrap left on the plate.

Our eyes widened when this platter was brought out to us. Prawn paste wrapped around sugar cane, spiced pork patties, chargrilled quail with honey and spices, summer rolls, spring rolls... I looked on in glee while my dining companion had a vague look of fear about him.

I don't often bother with quail as I find it fiddly but these were enough to make me change my mind. Slightly sweet, sticky and meaty, they were worth the fiddle. Dipped in a dish of salt and pepper mixed with lime juice, I couldn't help but to pick the bones dry. Prawn paste wrapped the sugarcane, and gnawing on it was a pleasure; sweet juices mixed with garlicky, bouncy prawn flesh. Summer rolls and spring rolls were adequately made and stuffed with fresh vegetables, but were neglected in favour of the spiced meats.

At this point my friend fretted that he was already full. I patted my belly; still some room left. By this point the dining room was busy and full of chatter. Service started to suffer a bit; I'd heard our neighbouring table complaining that they hadn't received their starters before their mains. Wrong dishes were placed at our table and then whisked away. While mildly irritating, I wasn't particularly bothered; service was so sweet and apologetic I almost wanted to give them a hug.

The above steaming bowl of Pho was placed before me. I'd ordered the Special, which contained a combination of beef balls, brisket and tender, rare slices of beef. I had a sip of the soup stock before garnishing it with the beansprouts, herbs and lime - I almost didn't want to add them. The stock was beautifully flavoured. The noodles retained some bite and were pleasingly elastic. Easily the best Pho I've had in London.

My companion ordered the goat stir-fried with galangal. I wasn't sure if this was a particularly Vietnamese dish, as I usually associate galangal with Thai food. The dish was heavily spiced, almost like a curry and the meat was slightly chewy which is what I'd expected of goat, with a hint of gaminess. The dish was rather one dimensional in flavour - there was an initial smack of the galangal, but not a whole lot else. By this point, my friend declared himself overstuffed. Our lovely hosts were kind enough to pack up the rest of the goat dish to be enjoyed later.

All in all, it was a fantastic meal. None of the dishes passed the £6 mark, and being a BYO place means it is a place to have a meal of great value. I think the menu could do with being simpled down; there were a lot of Chinese-sounding dishes and I think they should stick to what they're obviously good at - Vietnamese food. As well as the salad, the pancake and the quail, the Pho was fantastic, and my friend who'd tried some of mine said it was amazing. A gem in South London - though I wish they'd opened south east way.

Mien Tay

180 Lavender Hill
Battersea
London SW11 5TQ

Tel: 0207 350 0721

Cafe East - A Vietnamese Feast

There has been much talk between Helen and I about Vietnamese food. I've seen many posts about the Vietnamese restaurants on Kingsland Road, and neither of us had visited a single one of them. I crave the freshness of summer rolls, the comforting Pho noodle soups. I've visited Pho, a chain of Vietnamese restauarants before, and I found that while convenient, they lacked a certain punch and were rather insipid.

While chatting about it on Twitter, Cafe East was recommended. Even better; it's situated close to home, in Surrey Quays. A simple journey (although not so simple for some!) brought us right on it's doorstep.

Upon arrival, it looked closed. The blue neon sign shone brightly, but the doors were locked. We paced around it maddeningly, until we discovered a large entrance and a patio round the back.

We were greeted warmly to a large and simple dining area, packed with Oriental diners. A good sign. Laminate menus with photos consisted of two pages. I knew what we had to have; summer rolls. We also chose banh cuon, which was like the Chinese dim sum dish, cheung fun - rice noodle pastry except stuffed with minced meat, topped with shallots and bean sprouts, served with nuoc cham, a fish sauce, garlic, chilli and lime juice sauce. This was my favourite dish. The rice noodle pastry was light and warm, topped with slices of mystery-meat ham and those lovely fried shallots. It was light yet comforting with just the right balance of spicy tang from the nuoc cham.

Summer rolls were tightly packed full of goodies. Shredded lettuce and vermicelli noodles provided a great crunch, with a few mint leaves strewn in there for freshness. The prawns were sweet and juicy, and the accompanying spicy peanut dipping sauce providing a messy yet welcome dip.

Of course, you can't go to a Vietnamese restaurant without trying out some sort of noodle soup. I was immediately drawn to the Bun Bo Hue, the noodle soup with prawns, chicken and beef. We were asked if we wanted the beef rare or well done (rare, of course) and spicy or not. We went for full-on spice.

This came with a plate of chopped chillis, halved lemons, beansprouts and herbs which we added as we saw fit (i.e. we chucked it all in). You can't tell from the picture, but te beef was indeed perfectly rare. We slurped this down greedily, enthusiastically enough to splatter our clothing with it. It was a generous portion.

All this was washed down with an eye-wateringly strong Vietnamese iced coffee which will keep me up till the early hours. Service was sweet and efficient, and even after we finished I couldn't help gazing at other peoples' dishes. I can't wait to return, and given that I live 15 mins away by bus, it shan't be long before I do. £30 for 2 starters, 2 mains and 2 drinks. Can't argue with that, can we?

Cafe East

100 Redriff Road

London, SE16 7LH

Tel: 020 8691 7777

Vietnamese Spicy Pork & Aubergine

Aubergines are my favourite vegetable, although Wikipedia tells me they're actually classed as a berry. I claimed I didn't like them when I was a child, as in Hong Kong (where I grew up) they were often called eggplants and I wasn't overly fond of eggs. It made sense to me at the time, but clearly I missed out and have been making up for it ever since.

Texturally they are really pleasing; I find twice cooking them is the best way to get them meltingly tender rather than spongy and squeaky. It's also unnecessary to salt them to get rid of their bitterness, as modern technology means it's been bred out of them. I have found that salting them means that they soak up less oil, if you're trying to be health conscious.

Pork and aubergine is a great combination. Already, Fish Fragrant Aubergines is one of my favourite dishes and so I'm always keen to try this combination with different flavourings. Originally this recipe instructed to prick the aubergine and roast it for 45 minutes until collapsed, then to peel it and scrape the flesh out to spread the mince over. Either way is as good, but this is a little quicker.

Vietnamese Spicy Pork & Aubergine

Serves 2

1 large aubergine, chopped into large chunks
250gr minced pork
3 cloves of garlic, minced
3 red birds eye chillis, deseeded and chopped
2 stalks of spring onion, sliced finely
3 tbsp fish sauce
1 tbsp sugar
1 lime
Small bunch of coriander and mint, finely chopped.

In a non stick pan, fry the aubergine chunks in oil until it's browned on both sides. Remove and set to one side. Heat some oil up in a wok or a non-stick pan and fry the garlic and chilli until fragrant. Add the pork mince and fry until browned, then add the aubergine chunks back in. Stir fry on a high heat and add the spring onions. Add the fish sauce and the sugar. When the aubergines are completely cooked, take off the heat and add the herbs and the lime juice. Serve with rice.

This a great recipe; the fish sauce imparts a really great savoury depth to it, whilst the mint and the lime juice really makes it taste very fresh. The chilli isn't too overpowering; I often add more when just cooking for myself as I like it rather fiery.

Deep-Fried Delights

Much to the dismay of my waistline, I've gone from a mild dislike of deep-frying - some may have even called it a fear - to something of a compulsion. The Agedashi Tofu turned me. Prior to this recipe I'd regarded deep-frying as something beyond my realm. My first deep-frying attempt saw me try to make falafels. I'd gone as far as soaking the chickpeas, blending them up with parsley, lemon, garlic, all those aromatics. When it came to cooking them, I was excited. The oil heated up and I waited patiently - I even tossed a breadcrumb in to see if the oil was hot enough.

Alas, it was not to be. The falafels fell apart into a million little pieces, all fizzing away furiously in the oil. My (now ex) housemate snorted: "Well, you f*cked that up, didn't you?". He has a way with words. Well, due to the success (with just minor burns) of the tofu, it was time to move on. Time for deep-fried meaty things... like spring rolls.

Vietnamese Spring Rolls

Makes 8 - 10

200gr minced pork
1 tbsp dark soy sauce
A handful of woodear mushrooms, rehydrated and sliced finely
2 spring onion, sliced into shreds
1 clove of garlic, minced
2" piece of ginger, grated
1/2 bag of stir-fry vegetables
A handful of rice vermicelli or (preferably) glass noodles, soaked in boiling water for about 10 minutes
Rice paper
About 250ml vegetable oil for deep frying

Nuoc Cham Dipping Sauce

3 tbsp fish sauce
3 tbsp lime juice
1 tsp sugar
1 clove of garlic, finely chopped
1 red chilli, chopped finely
A little diced carrot

Marinate the pork in the ginger, woodear mushrooms, garlic and the dark soy. Meanwhile, once the noodles are soft cut into 3" strands. Add to the vegetable ingredients. I used a packet of bog-standard Tesco beansprout stir-fry packet, to save on the chopping. Prepare a bowl of hot water to dip the rice paper sheets in.

Mix all the ingredients for the dipping sauce and set to one side.

Lay out a clean tea towel in front of you. Dip the rice paper discs into the hot water until they soften. When they have done, place carefully on the tea towel and dab dry. Cut the discs in half. With the straight edge facing you, place a little of the pork mixture in the centre on the edge. Add some vegetables and noodles, taking care not to add too much (it's trial and error). Fold the round edges in to seal the sides, and then start rolling it up from the flat edge. You should end up with a 3 or 4" long roll. Once these are all done, heat the oil up in a wok. Once hot enough (add a breadcrumb; it should sizzle) carefully place the rolls in, ensuring they don't touch each other. Fry until browned, about 5 - 6 mins in total.

To serve, I separated the leaves of a head of Little Gem, so that you can use the leaves as a wrapper to pick up the roll and to dip into the nuoc cham.

This was quite a fiddly process for my oafish fingers, but with some practice (and a helper) it shoudn't be too time consuming. It's delicious; the crunch of the rice paper wrapper is really complemented by the crunch of the beansprouts and vegetables, whilst the dipping sauce really lifts it. This only goes to confirm my new-found love of deep-frying.

Steam Boat

Steam boat or hot pot is one of my favourite ways to eat. You get a big pot of stock, sometimes divided into different sections to have different flavoured stocks, and it sits on either a gas fire or an electric hob to keep it bubbling. Raw meats, seafood and vegetables are then lowered into the stock with a small wire basket (like the one you can see on top of the veg) to cook at your leisure. It's a fun and sociable way to eat, and it allows you to cook the food just how you like it. At the end, you usually have noodles to throw in to eat with the well flavoured stock to eat as a noodle soup.

We had ours at this Vietnamese restaurant in the Wing Yip complex in Croydon. We chose seafood (£39.95 for four). It was delicious - it was all very fresh, although a bit cheeky of them to give us the 'crab'stick. We chose a tom yum stock, and this was obviously made fresh and not from a cube. It was both spicy and sour, like a good tom yum should.

Rice Paper Rolls

Flush with success with being (just) dextrous enough to make the potsticker dumplings, I decided to try my hand at making rice paper rolls. I love spring rolls, but dislike deep-frying. My flat has possibly the most sensitive smoke alarm in all of the land; anything fried or grilled sets it off. In fact, sometimes even the oven sets it off it you open the door for more than a peek inside, so deep-frying is no friend of mine.

I had a quick google around for a general idea of how to make them and what kind of sauce to serve them with. Carrots, peppers, a behemoth bunch of coriander and spring onions dominated my otherwise bare vegetable drawer.

Rice Paper Rolls with Peanut Dipping Sauce

Makes 10 - 12 rolls

Packet of rice paper sheets (I got a Vietnamese brand from Chinatown)

Filling:

1 carrot, cut into matchsticks

1/2 red and 1/2 yellow pepper, cut into matchsticks

2 spring onions, shredded

1/2 bunch rice vermicelli, soaked in boiling water and drained

Small handful of coriander, chopped finely

A few whole mint leaves

For the dipping sauce, mix together 3 tbsp hoi sin sauce, 1 tbsp peanut butter and a squeeze of lime juice. I used chunky peanut butter but I think either smooth or chunky would be fine.

Dip a dried rice paper sheet in a bowl of hot water. Leave for 30 secs, then remove and place on a clean tea towel and pat dry. Place the mint leaf in the upper part of the sheet, and some of the filling at the bottom half. Fold over the filling from the bottom, then fold the sides over, and then carry on rolling. Lay on a plate seam side down. The mint leaf should show through the rice paper quite clearly.

These were quite time consuming to make (so perhaps better for a weekend... or get a helper), and for some reason I steadily got worse at the rolling as time went on. I think I became impatient with hunger. The wait was worth it though; the rolls were crunchy, fresh, and reminiscent of summer. The singular mint leaf in each roll provided just the right amount of tingle without being overpowering.