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St. Louis Magazine - July, 2007
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Frugal Foodie - Ba Le Bakery & Café

By Rose Martelli
Photograph by Katherine Bish

Don’t dare call Ba Le fusion food. Yes, its signature item is the banh mi, which is a sandwich of traditionally Vietnamese foodstuffs (shrimp balls, pork belly, lemongrass, cilantro) placed between two halves of a baguette, that most classic of French provisions. But with the French occupation of Vietnam long over, this isn’t some newfangled gastronomic trickery, as most fancy-schmancy fusion food today is. At this point in time, banh mi is as traditionally Vietnamese as it gets.

And don’t dare call Ba Le fast food, either. Yes, it is housed in a former Long John Silver’s hut, with that chain’s signature blue roof intact. (The drive-through order board remains outside, too, though at this point in a rather disassembled fashion.) And, yes, Ba Le technically is part of a larger franchise operation; there are about 30 of them dotting 12 states. But most everything here is made in-house and to order, from the banh mi to the noodle bowls to the milk tea drinks.

What Ba Le is, first and foremost, is good, quick and cheap: quite filling for the gullet and quite intriguing for the palate, too. I thoroughly enjoyed most all of the banh mi that I tried. My favorite was the shrimp ball–and–egg banh mi; I loved the slightly candied taste of the breaded, deep-fried shrimp balls (more like patties, really) and the way the yolks in the fried-egg pieces had just enough runniness to them to serve as a kind of gooey condiment. (Most of the sandwiches are assembled with one of the aforementioned meats and then a neatly compacted tangle of veggies and greens: mint, cilantro, basil, onion, radish and so on. There aren’t any spreads or condiments to bring the whole thing together, so the banh mi can tend toward the dry side.)


A single banh mi, none of which costs more than four bucks, is more than a meal unto itself. The same goes for the noodle bowls, identified on Ba Le’s menu under “vermicelli,” named after the long, thin, spaghetti-like noodles swimming in the dish. (A caveat: Ba Le’s menu is notoriously frustrating, because the plastic placards hanging behind the order counter do not entirely jibe with the laminated menus placed on top of the counter. The online menu and the paper take-away menus seem to differ as well. Make sure to just point to what you want.) A large vermicelli bowl is accompanied by a plate of bean sprouts, cilantro sprigs, jalapeño slices and basil leaves, so you can garnish your meal to your own tastes. It was fun to slurp my way through my noodle bowl, which I ordered with shredded pork. If I’d had a cold at the time, the hot, spicy broth—with its strange but delicious floral top note—would have cured it.

I strongly suggest perusing the contents of the deli and beverage cases for something unique as you wait for your order to be filled. There are canned juices of aloe vera and tamarind, plus a “white gourd drink” and a “chrysanthemum tea drink.” There are house-made plastic containers of flan and deli-style packages of head cheese. I hope these last inclusions don’t mean that Vietnamese cuisine will next partner with Mexican or Scottish fare; no need to get that fusion-crazy. After all, the folks at Ba Le already offer croissant sandwiches, which is a bit worrisome. Let’s keep the fast-food contraptions at bay and just let the folks at Ba Le do what they do best.