By Dominic Ngo Horton
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Đường Xuồng (pronounced like “durng soong” in a British accent, or “deux-ng soong” with the deux from French) is a small village of around two thousand people in the province of An Giang (“an(g) yang”), in southern Vietnam. My mother hails from that village; most of this story, though, is about her grandmother — my great-grandmother. I went to Vietnam and visited her and the family when I was one and a half years old.

My memory of her is hazy, as memories tend to be at that age. Born into a family of farmers, my great-grandmother was a formidable, hardworking woman. Most relevant to this story, she also happened to be a great cook. My mother says she was the “head chef” of the village. Everyone in the village, even outside of the family, learned how to cook from her. People would ask her for help cooking food for their weddings and parties. My father describes her as something like “Gordon Ramsey if he [were] a senior citizen” as well as swearing less, speaking Vietnamese, and being a woman. She was very exact, and had a passion for cooking, believing everyone should know how.

Thịt kho tàu*, or thịt kho (“tit caw”*) for short, is a classic Vietnamese braised pork dish. It’s indispensable for the Lunar New Year or Tết. You cook it the day before (tradition states that you’re not supposed to cook or clean on New Year’s Day) and put some of it on the family altar for your ancestors as with other foods. It’s also eaten on normal days, but it can be expensive to prepare because of the meat, making it an infrequent treat. One interesting thing about it is that the fish sauce makes it so salty that it kind of preserves itself. This was helpful when my mom was younger — back then, growing up in a rural, less-wealthy family, refrigerators were not common. It also lasts a long time as leftovers.

My great-grandma taught my mom how to cook it when she was ten years old, and later, when my dad visited, she showed it to him and the rest of his family who came on the trip with him from Canada. (He says that thịt kho is one of his favourite Vietnamese dishes). She shared the dish with me and my sister back in Canada, and now I’m learning how to cook it. Unfortunately, my great-grandmother has passed away since the time I visited her, but it makes me glad to help her memory live on by sharing her recipe with you, the reader.

*Note:
(“tit chaw” where the ch is pronounced like in Bach or Chanukah would be more accurate to Southern Vietnamese, but the English pronunciation is a close enough approximation even if it has kind of a northern accent).

​Recipe

Ingredients: 
  • 1 kg raw pork belly
  • 5 chicken eggs (size doesn’t matter that much)
  • 2 L coconut water
  • ½ L normal water
  • 5 Thai chili peppers
  • 2 goat horn chili peppers
  • 1 bulb of garlic
  • Half a lime (for juicing)
  • 5-6 tbsp sugar
  • 20-25 tbsp fish sauce
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 2 tsp bouillon powder (my mom uses Lean Flavor brand vegetarian bouillon, but chicken bouillon works just as well)
 
  • Jasmine rice (to serve)
Takes about 4 hours to cook
Feeds 6 or 7 (this is not a joke)
Tools:
  • Mortar and pestle
  • Two large pots for the meat and coconut water
  • One pot (can be smaller) for the eggs
  • Spoon to stir

Instructions:
  1. Rinse the pork belly in a pot of hot salt water and cut it into handful-sized (3-inch) chunks. Put the pieces in a large pot.
  2. Peel the garlic and smash it with the pestle along with all the chili peppers. Try not to squish the juice out of the garlic. Once it’s finely ground, add it to the meat.
  3. Add the fish sauce, bouillon powder, salt, and sugar to the meat. Squeeze the lime juice in as well, then stir for about five minutes, until everything is evenly coated.
  4. Put a lid over the pot and let it sit for one hour. While you’re waiting, boil the eggs.
  5. Another thing to do while you’re waiting: get your coconut water and regular water, and mix them together in a large pot.
  6. After an hour has passed, bring your diluted coconut water to a boil. Once it’s boiling, add the meat to the pot and cook on medium low. Remove the foam with a ladle. This isn’t necessary for it to be edible, but it’ll look a lot uglier if you don’t.
  7. After removing the foam, partially (not fully) cover the top with a lid and cook it on low for about three hours.
  8. Shell the eggs and add them to the meat pot about one hour in.
  9. After three hours have passed, turn off your stove. The colour of the stew should have become more of an orange-ish brown. Taste the stew and adjust sugar and salt if needed. After that, it’s ready to serve! Thịt kho is served with white jasmine rice.