The Enchanting Roasted Rice Pork

Have you ever experienced the delight of Vietnamese roasted rice pork?

Vietnamese cuisine boasts two delightful types of pork patties (nem): the tangy, fermented pork (nem chua) made from raw meat, and the flavorful roasted rice pork (nem thính) crafted from cooked meat. Each region – North, Central, and South – brings its own unique spin to roasted rice pork, showcasing a variety of names and preparation methods. 

In the North, you’ll find nem Phùng, nem nắm, and nem tai, each with its distinct flair. Central Vietnam offers the savory tré, trưởi while the South tantalizes taste buds with nem bì. 

Northern Delights: Nem Phùng, Nem Nắm, Nem Tai

Nem Phùng has its roots in Phùng town, located in the Đan Phượng district, about 20 km from Hanoi. Around 1920, Mr. Bùi Ngọc Hạnh opened a quaint restaurant under an old banyan tree by the Phùng bus station. Among the rice-accompanied dishes, he introduced a slightly tweaked version of traditional roasted rice pork. The irresistible taste quickly gained popularity, attracting more and more customers.

By the early 1940s, the Bùi family began selling their roasted rice pork as a standalone delicacy. Soon, many locals in Phùng town started making and selling their own versions. Phùng’s roasted rice pork (nem Phùng) became so famous that it even inspired its own folk song:

“Nem Phùng with cluster fig leaves,

A taste that everyone forever perceives.”

What makes nem Phùng so unforgettable? According to Mr. Bùi Ngọc Hà, the fourth-generation custodian of the family recipe, the secret lies in the succulent meat and the aromatic roasted rice powder. The preparation begins with separating the pork into lean meat, fat, and skin, all of which are sliced and blanched separately in boiling water. The lean meat is cooked to perfection, the fat turns crispy, and the skin becomes tender.

Next, the magic happens: the roasted rice powder is mixed with the lean meat, fat, and skin, ensuring each piece is coated with a fragrant, light yellow layer of rice powder. The rhythmic sound of the knife on the cutting board fills the air as thin strands of lean meat, fat, and skin, no thicker than toothpicks, emerge.

The Bùi family’s secret lies in adding a touch of mung beans and soybeans alongside glutinous rice and regular rice, enhancing the rice powder’s rich, fragrant flavor. The grains dance and spin in the pan until they turn golden brown and release a delightful aroma. Once finely pounded or ground, the powder becomes a fresh dusting of magic, embellishing the beauty of nem Phùng.

Seasonings for nem Phùng include salt, pepper, and high-quality fish sauce. The roasted rice pork is wrapped in young cluster fig leaves, with guava leaves added during the colder seasons. It is then enveloped in banana leaves, forming a square bundle known as quả nem. In the past, nem Phùng was tied with red-pink strings, bunched together, and hung up. Nowadays, the strings have been replaced with rubber bands, and it is no longer hung.

Mr. Bùi Ngọc Thái, Bùi Ngọc Hà’s father, still laments two things: the absence of giant water bug oil, which was once used to season the roasted rice pork, and the fact that today’s pork cannot compare to the quality of the pork from the past.

Nem Phùng is made from cooked meat, allowing you to enjoy it right away. Simply wrap a few strands in a soft cluster fig leaf and savor the experience. You’ll first notice the slightly astringent taste of the fig leaf, followed by the rich flavor of the meat, the delicate fat, the chewy and crispy skin, the peppery spice, the earthiness of roasted rice powder, and the gentle scents of guava and banana leaves. It’s a perfect appetizer to start a meal, just as intended by the creator who refined and popularized it.

Although the Bùi family never explicitly stated how Mr. Bùi Ngọc Hạnh transformed traditional roasted rice pork into its current version, it seems likely he switched from using raw meat to cooked meat. 

In the 1930s, both traditional nem varieties in Hanoi featured raw meat. One type involved thinly sliced raw meat and shredded boiled skin, mixed with roasted rice powder, and wrapped in young guava leaves or cluster fig leaves, and banana leaves. The other, nem chua, differed in that the meat was pounded, tied tightly, and left to ferment until it turned sour before eating. (Source: Ẩm Thực Tu Tri, Vương Thị Thu Hương, Tân Dân Publishing House 1930, pp. 61-62)

Nem tai also uses cooked meat, similar to nem Phùng. Pig’s ears are boiled with salt, vinegar, and crushed ginger until fragrant. The thinly sliced pieces are seasoned with salt, pepper, garlic, and roasted rice powder. Chili slices and julienned lemon leaves are added for an extra burst of flavor. Nem tai is typically eaten with round rice noodles, rice paper, fresh herbs, and dipped in light fish sauce mixed with vinegar, sugar, garlic, and chili. It’s a refreshing dish, perfect for relieving the heat on hot summer days.

Northern Vietnam also boasts another favorite version, nem nắm Giao Thủy from Nam Định province. The meat is boiled until slightly rare, then sliced into thin strips. It’s tenderized by beating with the back of a knife until soft, and mixed with Sa Châu fish sauce, pepper, and crushed garlic. The roasted rice powder, made from fragrant rice from Hải Hậu, adds a gentle aroma.

The meat lovingly embraces and blends with the roasted rice powder, before being mixed with thin skin fibers that spread out like flower petals. The roasted rice pork is then shaped into round, attractive balls, each the size of an adult’s fist.

Roll some nem nắm in fig leaves and Ming aralia leaves, dip them in a bowl of Sa Châu fish sauce with lemon juice and spicy chili. As you savor it, you can immediately taste the rich, salty flavor of pure fish sauce, which enhances the quintessential sweetness of the meat, the earthiness of roasted rice powder, the slight pungency of garlic, and the mild spicy and astringent notes of the leaves. Nem nắm Giao Thủy is famous in the North, thanks to the special flavor of Sa Châu fish sauce and Hải Hậu rice powder.

Central Delicacies: Tré Huế, Trưởi Quảng Nam, Tré Rơm Bình Định

Before nem Phùng came into existence, roasted rice pork was already enjoyed in Huế under the unique name tré. The origin of this name remains a mystery to me, so if any readers know, please share your insights. The method for making tré Huế was detailed by Mrs. Trương Đăng Thị Bích in her book Thực Phổ Bách Thiên, published in 1915:

“The meat for tré is fried with skin, 

Slice old garlic and young galangal in. 

Add roasted rice powder, salt, sesame, and sweet, 

Wrap in guava leaves, covered with straw, neat.”

Compared to nem Phùng and nem nắm, the meat used to make tré is not boiled but fried until golden brown and then sliced into thin strands. Three new spices make their appearance in tré: young galangal, roasted sesame, and sugar. Unlike in the North’s nem, the garlic is sliced rather than crushed. Tré is wrapped in guava leaves to create a fragrant aroma, and the outer straw layer keeps it warm, allowing for quick fermentation.

Whereas nem Phùng and nem nắm are usually eaten immediately, tré must be left to ferment for at least two days, allowing the sugar to create a slightly sour taste. The robust flavors of galangal and garlic, combined with the sour, sweet, and salty notes, and the earthy taste of sesame, make tré a lively and powerful symphony full of Central Vietnam’s flavors, while Northern nem is more of a gentle and elegant song.

The Quảng Nam version has an unusual name that’s even harder to pronounce than Huế’s tré: trưởi! Let’s hear from a native of Quảng Nam: “In my hometown, the days before and after Tết are cold and drizzly. Apricot branches bloom with yellow buds, placed in a large vase. The elders gather around strong wine, and the trưởi package opens on its leaves, resting on a porcelain plate with light blue patterns. In the spring atmosphere, with stories and hearty laughter, everything is buzzing and warm.” (Nguyễn Long Chiến, Blog quynhon11)

Trưởi consists of boiled pig head, pig ears, and nose, thinly sliced and mixed with salt or a blend of fish sauce and sugar which is cooked until it thickens like honey. The mixture is combined with pepper, rice powder, garlic, galangal, and sesame. It is then wrapped in guava or tiger claw leaves, and banana leaves into small, pretty packages.

“The dish must be dry, with separate, crunchy pieces when chewed, a mild sour aroma, the fragrant scent of galangal, the earthy taste of sesame, and the distinct smell of tiger claw leaves and guava leaves… When eating, people in Quảng Nam do not open many packages at once, just one by one. Roasted rice paper serves as the perfect side dish.” (Nguyễn Long Chiến)

My mother was from Huế, and our family lived in Đà Nẵng for quite some time, so our family’s tré was a blend of tré Huế and trưởi Quảng. She used skinless pork, fried until golden brown, and cut it into strips. The meat was then mixed with a honey-thick blend of fish sauce and sugar, pepper, garlic, galangal, and rice powder – fragrant enough to make your mouth water. Each bunch of tré, the size of two fingers, was tightly wrapped in guava and banana leaves, secured with elastic bands.

What I feared most was using a sharp knife to peel the spine along the guava leaf before using it for tré. My mother insisted that we needed to peel the spine to prevent it from leaving a line on tré, which would ruin its beauty. If you weren’t careful, you could either cut your hand or make a hole in the leaf. But tré is so delicious that all my fears and laziness disappear every time I help make it.

My mother often served tré with pickled Chinese onions. Tré is honey-colored, with ivory-white fat mixed with golden-brown pork, fragrant with the smell of roasted rice powder and sweet fish sauce. There is a gentle sour aroma mixed with the warm scent of galangal and the spicy notes of garlic and pepper. Perhaps it is the braised fish sauce and sugar that give my family’s version of tré and trưởi their rich, flavorful taste. It’s no wonder many friends and acquaintances keep asking about it.

Bình Định’s tré is also made from pig’s head meat like trưởi, but with the addition of boiled pork belly, and is seasoned with salt like Huế’s tré, not fish sauce. Notably, Bình Định is the only place that still covers tré with straw. The sight of straw bundles of tré hanging in kitchens or stalls is a scene that Bình Định people far from home dearly miss every Tết.

Since the 2020s, tré trộn has emerged and has become popular among young people. The traditional tré, once likely to be forgotten, has now been revived with a new halo. Tré accompanies fermented pork and Vietnamese ham along with playful additions such as mango, April plum, cucumber, and Vietnamese coriander, decorated with garlic, chili, and calamansi juice. It’s a dish full of energy and flavors, truly suitable for young people.

Southern Specialties: Nem Bì 

Before Thực Phổ Bách Thiên, there was a cookbook published in Saigon that mentioned the Southern version of roasted rice pork. According to the author R. P. N., thịt bì was made from thinly sliced and beaten fresh pork and shredded pork skin, seasoned with salt, rice powder, garlic, and galangal, then wrapped and left to ferment before eating. (Source: Cookbook of An Nam Style, Tin Duc Thư Xã Publishing House, 1909, p. 28)

Nowadays, Southwestern people refer to their roasted rice pork as nem bì, and its preparation method has evolved a bit. The pork, marinated with shallots, garlic, salt, and pepper, is fried to a golden hue and cut into thin strips. The strips and shredded boiled pork skin are stir-fried again until they become sticky, then seasoned with sugar, salt, and pepper. Once the meat cools, it is mixed with rice powder and wrapped in tiger claw leaves and banana leaves. The packages are hung in the kitchen, adding to the bustling atmosphere of Tết. Nem bì, eaten with round rice noodles or rice paper, fresh herbs, and sweet and sour fish sauce, is a Southern favorite dish.

Can the flutter of excitement in one’s heart when savoring delicious roasted rice pork be likened to the thrill of holding a lover’s hand? And is the heady intoxication from a good wine any different from the giddy feeling of sitting side by side with a lover during a sweet, naive love affair of days gone by? Such poetic musings spring from a Southern folk song:

“Holding your hand, like nem bì divine, 

Side by side with you, like sipping fine wine.”

Eating roasted rice pork has a huge advantage over fermented pork – do you know what it is? It doesn’t have to be eaten with garlic to prevent bacteria, so there’s no awkwardness if you need to talk to your lover afterwards. Your breath stays as charming as your personality! Such a good reason to appreciate the enchantment of nem Phùng, nem nắm, nem tai, tré, trưởi and nem bì, right?

mlefood – Minh Lê