Down-home Vietnamese Cuisine

I wonder, what is that strange, crystaline structure on my chicken?

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It seems that there are 2 kinds of Vietnamese restaurants in my city: The ones that cater to Americans, and the ones that cater to the Vietnamese.

Saigon 39 or Vietnam Cafe is where you want to be if you're American.

I find myself most often at the little unpronouncable restaurant on Independence Ave. They cater to the Vietnamese. Why do I go there? Because I am ADVENTURE GIRL!!! If we go there on a weekend, there's lots of smoke and music and conversation. Kids are running circles around the tables. Strangers start conversations with us about chop sticks. A big group is playing dominoes and drinking the house's only variety of beer.

The most recent time I went there, I was with my friend Pam. She is a fellow adventurer and has lived in some 3rd world countries before. She is not afraid of many things. That's why I took her to the little restaurant. She's a fan of Vietnamese food, too.

I asked for fish sauce but, "Not hot, Please. Not hot." I got multiple OK OK OK OK's. I also got hot fish sauce. It was good anyway.

I was having some problems with the chicken, though. It was hard to politely nibble around splintered bones and gristle. I think they just randomly hacked that bird up with a meat cleaver.

Also, there was something that I assumed was a spice of some kind. It added a crystaline structure to the chicken skin.

Pam commented on my chicken between her compliments on the lunch. Casually she said, "They didn't take all the feathers off your chicken. They probably pluck them right here, to save money."

I kept eating, to save money.

Kept the leftovers.

Fed them to Jeremy.