Emma's UH culinary workshop starts next week and she's already packing her knife roll like she's deploying overseas. The Victorinox, two paring knives, her favorite peeler, a thermometer. She asked me if she should bring her own apron. I said, "They'll give you one." She said, "But mine has my name on it." She's bringing her own apron.
Meanwhile, Lily discovered something this week that may change the trajectory of her life: she watched a YouTube video of a Vietnamese street food vendor making banh mi in Saigon — the speed, the economy of motion, the way the vendor assembled twenty sandwiches in five minutes — and she was transfixed. She watched it four times. Then she came to me and said, "Dad, I want to make banh mi that fast."
She can't. Nobody can, not without years of practice. But I set her up at the counter with a baguette and the fillings and told her to make one as fast as she could. She timed herself: four minutes and twelve seconds. The banh mi was messy — pate on the outside, pickled vegetables falling out, jalapeño in the wrong spot. But she ate it and said, "Three minutes next time."
She practiced five more times. Her best time: three minutes twenty-two seconds. Her worst: six minutes (the baguette split). She's twelve years old and she's speedrunning sandwich assembly like it's a video game. I have no idea where this intensity comes from. Actually, I do. It comes from me. The same obsessiveness that keeps me at a smoker for fourteen hours runs in her blood, just pointed at a different target.
Saturday pho at Ma's. I told her about Lily's banh mi speedrunning. Ma said, "Good. She should also learn to make them properly before she makes them fast." Ma is always right and always brutal about it.
Work: installed Thuy's third restaurant kitchen. The chain is expanding. She's now the biggest Vietnamese restaurant operator in Houston and I've equipped three of her four locations. The commission checks are good. The retirement fund is growing. I'm forty-three and I finally feel like I'm building something instead of just surviving.
Smoked a tri-tip this weekend — not a Texas cut (it's a California thing) but it's perfect on the smoker. Rubbed with garlic, salt, pepper, and a little fish sauce powder (yes, that exists — dehydrated fish sauce, crumbled, mixed into a rub). Smoked at 250 for three hours, sliced thin against the grain. Served it with chimichurri because sometimes you cross borders and the food is better for it.
The tri-tip got all the attention — fourteen hours at the smoker will do that — but what actually tied the plate together was the simple citrus dressing I threw over the arugula I served alongside it. Something about the acid cutting through the smoke and the richness of the fish sauce rub just worked. I’ve been making some version of this dressing for years, and it keeps showing up at the right moment: next to grilled meats, on top of leftover rice, drizzled over whatever’s in the fridge on a Sunday night. If you’re making the tri-tip, make this too — it’ll earn its spot on the table.
Citrus Salad Dressing
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 1/4 cup fresh orange juice (about 1 large orange)
- 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
- 1 teaspoon orange zest
- 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
- 1 small clove garlic, finely minced
- 1 teaspoon honey
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper
- 1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
- 1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
Instructions
- Combine the citrus. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the orange juice, lemon juice, lime juice, and orange zest until combined.
- Build the base. Add the Dijon mustard, minced garlic, honey, salt, and black pepper. Whisk vigorously until the mixture is well incorporated and the honey is fully dissolved.
- Emulsify with oil. While whisking constantly, slowly drizzle in the olive oil in a thin, steady stream. Continue whisking until the dressing is emulsified and slightly thickened. Add the white wine vinegar and whisk once more to combine.
- Taste and adjust. Taste the dressing and adjust seasoning as needed — more honey for sweetness, more lemon for brightness, more salt if it needs lift.
- Rest and serve. Let the dressing sit for at least 5 minutes before serving to allow the flavors to meld. Shake or whisk again just before dressing your salad. Store in a sealed jar in the refrigerator for up to 5 days; shake well before each use.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 95 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 115mg
About the cook who shared this
Bobby Tran
Week 118 of Bobby’s 30-year story
· Houston, Texas
Bobby Tran was born in a refugee camp in Arkansas to parents who fled Saigon with nothing. He grew up in Houston straddling two worlds — Vietnamese at home, Texan everywhere else — and learned to cook from his mother's pho and a neighbor's BBQ smoker. He's a former shrimper, a recovering alcoholic, a divorced dad of three, and the guy who marinates brisket in fish sauce and lemongrass because he doesn't believe in borders, especially when it comes to flavor.