Tôm Chiên Khoai Lang

This recipe will serve three to four people with above-average appetites.

Ingredients:

• 1 lb. shrimp

• 2 cups all-purpose flour

• 1 cup rice flour

• 1/2 tsp. salt

• 1/2 tsp. sugar

• 1/2 tsp. turmeric powder

• 1 tbsp. baking powder

• 3 cups water

• 2 tbsp. chives, chopped

• 1 sweet potato, julienned

• 2 small taro roots, julienned

• canola or vegetable oil for frying

• butter lettuce, herbs (shiso, Thai basil, mint, perilla), and nước mắm for serving

“Man, these guys sure do like to fry a lot…”

You don’t even know the half of it, bro— just wait till we get to frites week.

The Beta:

1. Combine all the dry ingredients in a mixing bowl, add water, and whisk until smooth. Next, mix in the chives, sweet potato, and taro, and your batter is ready for frying. It should be relatively thin—almost like pancake batter.

2. Heat oil in a a cast iron or your preferred frying vessel (any ol’ pan will do) until it reaches around 350 degrees. We typically do this by putting the burner on high for two or three minutes and then cutting back to medium high. Again, you don’t want your oil smoking—if it does, remove your pan from the heat and wait for the oil to cool.

3. With your shrimp peeled and de-veined, it’s time to start making your fritters. Prepare a baking pan with paper towels and set your oven to warm so that you have a place to store your fully-cooked fritters until time to serve. Our method for frying is to place a few shrimp in the batter and then grab them individually with tongs, making sure to gather some of the sweet potato and taro as well. Drop the batter in the oil and fry for three or four minutes on each side until golden brown. The tong method is admittedly messy, so you might want to swap for a spoon if you’re a neat freak like my wife.

4. We serve this as a build-your-own sort of meal—the same way most mom and pop restaurants in Vietnam do it. Ideally you’ll serve this with a large plate of herbs like shiso, perilla, mint, and Thai basil (we’ll soon be talking about how high yield an herb garden is), with an additional plate for butter lettuce or another lettuce you prefer. The beta: Grab a piece of lettuce, place a leaf or two of each herb on top, pin these down with a fritter, wrap, dunk in nước mắm, and freakin’ enjoy.

Le batter and le scrimpies waiting for le crunch.

Holy crap—the crunch!

We’ve done this at home twice now, and it’s gotta be one of the best things we’ve done in quarantine. Round one was fantastic—that satisfying first bite of something brand new that just makes you go limp in your chair. It took thirty years on this planet to find the bliss of a shrimp fritter, and I’m not turning back now.

On our second go, we made the fritters smaller, which allowed the oil to cook everything more thoroughly. The crunch on this batch was akin to a Cheeto Puff, and I say that in full sincerity with love and admiration for the puff life. Pro tip when frying anything (we’ll get to the best french fries of your life in a few short weeks): The oil starts bubbling when you introduce moisture, and as the moisture is cooked out of what you’re frying, in this case a dope fritter, the bubbling slows down. Of course, you don’t want to kill every bit of moisture, but to get a big-time crunch, you want most of it gone. Wait until the oil has calmed substantially before you pull the fritter—your patience will be rewarded with the best of mouth feels.

Shrimp Beta

If you have access to an Asian market, hit them up first. We buy our shrimp from H Mart, and if they have the peeled and de-veined shrimp available, it’s still usually cheaper per pound than other grocery stores. You’ll save a few bucks if you buy whole shrimp, and they will store longer in your refrigerator as well. However, if you’re planning a same-day dinner and you’re on a time crunch, getting them peeled and de-veined at $9.99 a pound is hard to beat. To put this in perspective, Central Market’s whole shrimp is closer to $17 a pound. Of course, if you’re a shrimp snob, that might be worth it to you. However, I don’t think my unrefined taste buds have what it takes to differentiate between a wild-caught versus a farm-grown crustacean, especially when they’re covered with delicious, fried batter.

Tommy in Huế — This is not tôm chiên khoia lang, but it’s a fine example of what a Vietnamese meal can look like.