Dew Jelly and more: A Cool Colorful Trio

Is dew jelly a gift from morning dew drops?

Dew jelly, black jelly, and green jelly are all derived from the natural flora of the sea, forests, and land. Distinct from agar cakes, these jellies are not inherently sweet and are traditionally served with syrup. Consequently, in Vietnamese cuisine, they are regarded as sweet soups (chè) rather than cakes (bánh).

Dew jelly – treasure from the sea

In 1744, the Vietnamese logographic manuscript “Thực vật tất khảo tường ký lục” meticulously documented close to 200 traditional Vietnamese dishes. Among them, the 76th entry, “Chè tháng sốt”—a sweet soup savored during the sunny months—features an exquisite blend of dew jelly, lotus seeds, bird’s nest, orange daylily leaves, and jujube, all harmoniously united by a sweet syrup. The esteemed translator Hoang Xuan Han elucidates that “dew jelly” refers to agar extracted from rong câu.

Rong câu, colloquially known as hook algae, is a distinctive seaweed characterized by its hook-like stems that anchor it to coastal rocks. Its slender branches, varying in hues of brown, purple, green, or white, are harvested by locals during serene, low-tide conditions. After meticulous cleansing to remove any moss, sand, and pebbles, the seaweed is laid out to bask and dry under the sun. This process gives rise to a delightfully straightforward yet distinctive dessert, referred to as xoa xoa in Quang Nam province, xu xoa or xu xa spanning from Quang Ngai to Binh Thuan, and as sương sa (dew jelly) in the southern regions.

Dried seaweed, once soaked in water, undergoes a transformation through cooking and filtration. The resulting dew jelly glistens with the sheen of morning dew, each serving enrobed in a luscious golden-brown syrup. The jelly’s texture is tender and refreshing, its subtle sweetness accentuated by a hint of aromatic ginger, offering a delightful respite from the summer’s sweltering heat.

Central and Southern Vietnam are home to a renowned sweet soup, chè sương sa hột lựu, where dew jelly takes center stage. This dessert showcases the translucent beauty of dew jelly, complemented by the soft hues of pomegranate seeds crafted from tapioca starch, the vibrant yellow of mung beans, the creamy whiteness of coconut milk, and the chill of ice cubes. In the South, an additional twist of fragrant pandan tapioca noodles enriches the medley. 

The interplay of textures—soft, crunchy, chewy—and the balance of flavors—rich, sweet, refreshing—make this sweet soup not just a treat for the palate but also a healthful indulgence. It’s a culinary breeze that gently stirs the fond memories of summer for many Vietnamese generations.

As the 21st century unfolded, it brought an innovative twist to the traditional dew jelly: dừa dầm (coconut mix). In the fast-paced life, where time is a valued commodity, agar powder has become the go-to ingredient for crafting thạch, the Northern dialect’s term for dew jelly made from powder. The classic tapioca pomegranate seeds give way to uncolored tapioca pearls. A rich blend of coconut milk, fresh milk, and condensed milk supplants the customary syrup, interlaced with tender strands of young coconut flesh. 

Each chilled cup of ‘dừa dầm’ is imbued with the creamy taste and fragrance of milk and coconut, presenting a modern twist on a traditional favorite. This refreshing concoction originated in North Vietnam and has gained particular acclaim in Hai Phong.

Mirroring the beloved sương sa, bông cỏ (grass flower) is a venerable dish from Central and South Vietnam that has nearly vanished from culinary memory. Crafted from the fruit seeds of buxifolia (vẩy ốc or “snail flakes” in Vietnamese) —a vine cherished for both its decorative beauty and medicinal properties in the South—bông cỏ embodies a blend of tradition and nature. 

The seeds are steeped overnight, then encased in a cloth bag and drenched with water and ripe bananas. After straining the mixture to remove any solids, water is added, and the concoction is left to set. Bông cỏ is traditionally savored with syrup, but for a twist, tapioca pomegranate seeds and coconut milk are introduced, creating the delectable chè bông cỏ hột lựu. A subtle, sweet aroma of ripe bananas infuses bông cỏ, a delightful nuance achieved with a touch of banana oil, distilled from banana peels.

The names of this dish’s creator may be shrouded in mystery, but the rationale behind its name bông cỏ is quite intuitive. In Vietnamese culinary tradition, dishes are often named after their key ingredients or the method used to prepare them. Opting for the tree’s Vietnamese name “snail flakes” might not have been the most appealing choice. Instead, the seeds’ round and firm nature, bearing a resemblance to grass flowers—those tiny weed seeds mingling with rice grains during harvest—inspired the ancient Vietnamese to bestow this disk with the same name as “grass flower”.

Let us delve into the bygone days, revisiting scenes adorned with the imagery of bông cỏ. 

In the heart of Can Tho city, nestled in South Vietnam, a nostalgic memory surfaces: “Amidst my youthful pursuits, I was so engrossed that I scarcely noticed how Nam deftly handled his đàn kìm (a traditional Vietnamese musical instrument). Yet occasionally, the instrument’s case would chime, reminiscent of the bell that once heralded the approach of the Chinese bông cỏ vendor.” (Phi Van, The Countryside – Awarded First Prize in the 1943 Literature Contest by Can Tho’s Study Promotion Association, published by Đất nước Publishing House in 1950, page 6)

Ms. Bếp Lọ Lem vividly recounts the artistry of Mrs. Bay at Nha Trang’s Xom Moi Market in the late 70s: “With a large aluminum spoon, broad and flat akin to one used for tofu pudding, she gracefully skimmed the jelly’s surface. The bông cỏ, delicate and diaphanous, danced within the large aluminum vessel that took center stage at her stall.” (“Bông cỏ“, March 14, 2009)

I wonder if the poet Han Mac Tu ever encountered a bông cỏ maiden in Saigon, Quy Nhon, or Phan Thiet. Charmed by her presence, he crafted the playful verses of “Teasing the bông cỏ maiden”, beginning with:

“Your wares are curious, a sight to behold,

Would you strike a pose, oh lady so bold?

To me, you declare, ‘Yes, it’s a delight!’

To another, you whisper, ‘Oh, it’s sweet as the night.’

Black jelly – whisper from the forest

The Chinese mesona tree, named thạch đen in the North and sương sáo in Central and South Vietnam, is abundant in the hilly and mountainous regions. The preparation begins with drying its leaves and stems, which are then simmered until tender. Tapioca starch is added along with a touch of ash water—a clear liquid obtained by mixing and settling ash from straw or charcoal with water. In the South, dried coconut shells are often used in place of wood to create this ash water.

The jelly itself is a deep, lustrous black, resembling a polished quartz block. It’s smooth to the touch, refreshingly cool, and has a satisfyingly firm texture. To enjoy it on its own, one simply cuts the jelly into bite-sized pieces, drizzles syrup over the top, and relishes the chewy texture. As you savor each piece, the jelly glides smoothly down, providing a cooling sensation that is both delightful and fulfilling. 

Once a common sight, the black jelly vendor was a beacon of joy for city children on sweltering summer days. In the Southwestern region, the call of ‘Black jelly to exchange for rice…’ would send children scurrying to trade scoops of rice for this treat from the vendors’ boats meandering down the canals.

Hoi An, a historic trading port, boasts a unique dish known as lường phảnh—a Chinese-style black jelly infused with Chinese herbal medicine and accompanied by a zesty ginger syrup. Alongside chí mà phù (black sesame sweet soup) and lục tàu xá (mung bean sweet soup), lường phảnh arrived with Chinese settlers between the 16th and 17th centuries, enriching Hoi An’s culinary tapestry ever since.

Black jelly’s versatility surpasses that of dew jelly, likely owing to its intriguing black hue and a hint of bitterness that accentuates the colors and flavors of accompanying ingredients. It forms a harmonious union with a variety of companions: sweet basil seeds, pandan tapioca noodles, saps of Java olive and Java cotton, mung beans, black-eyed beans, and notably, red beans. The combination of red beans’ sweet, floury essence with the sleek black jelly, creamy coconut meat, and the aromatic touch of Java olive’s sap creates a timeless concoction, a beverage steeped in magic and enduring allure.

Green jelly – the earth’s essence

“My home rests close to hers,

Bound by a verdant fence of green jelly plants.”

I extend my gratitude to the esteemed poet Nguyen Binh for lending his enchanting verses, which I have adapted to introduce the Tiliacora triandra vine or sương sâm in Vietnamese – the source of green jelly. Commonly cultivated along fences in Central and South Vietnam, the vine’s verdant leaves rustle in the gentle breeze, bearing a resemblance to the lush malabar spinach depicted in Nguyen Binh’s poem “The neighbor”. The scene is nearly complete as in his verse, only awaiting “the white butterfly that flutters eagerly to her house”.

The preparation of sương sâm (green jelly) is a delicate process where the leaves are crushed raw in water, eschewing the need for heat. Once thoroughly macerated, the mixture is filtered, and a hint of cuttlebone powder is added to expedite the setting process. 

Of the trio of jellies, green jelly is the most tender, boasting a vibrant mossy hue and a fresh, leafy taste. It pairs beautifully with the milder flavors of pandan tapioca noodles and sweet basil seeds. The noodles, slightly chewy and tinged with the green of pandan, along with the dual-toned basil seeds, and green jelly create a symphony of textures. Completing this culinary ensemble is the fragrant coconut milk and sweet syrup, which envelopes all elements in a loving embrace.

In North Vietnam, a dish akin to green jelly is known as thạch găng (Indigobelly jelly). The Indigobelly tree, recognized by its robust, spiky stems, offers leaves that are typically air-dried for a day prior to being pulverized. Reflecting regional culinary practices, while Central Vietnam incorporates cuttlebone powder, the North prefers the addition of clear lime water—the same lime traditionally used with betel nut. Thạch găng is often savored with soy milk. Alternatively, it’s served drizzled with jasmine-scented syrup, complemented by the crunch of coconut flesh and the toasty notes of roasted peanuts.

Dew jelly, black jelly, and green jelly are indeed nature’s bounties – treasure from the sea, whisper of the forest, and the earth’s own essence – bestowed upon humanity. In homage to these delights, I’ve endeavored to craft a short verse, with the aspiration that it will bring a smile to the reader’s face and impart a sense of refreshment akin to the experience of savoring the jellies themselves.

Dew jelly, black jelly, green jelly too,

Each unique in taste, all equally true.

Let the sun blaze on, its fervor we’ll flee,

For in three jellies’ coolness, we find our glee.

mlefood