High class meets lemongrass at this upscale West County Vietnamese restaurant
By Dave Lowry
Photograph by Katherine Bish
Vietnam’s cuisine has become for this generation what Mexican food was for its parents. From improbably exotic, it’s gone mainstream. Like tacos and enchiladas, steaming bowls of pho noodles and plump goi cuon rolls have become popular because they’re a delicious and remarkable dining bargain. Unfortunately, just as with the food of Mexico, as Americans have embraced Vietnamese cooking it has largely been the cheaper dishes that have predominated.
Monsoon Vietnamese Bistro, the first Vietnamese restaurant in West County, is also the first in the area to feature some of the more upscale examples of the Vietnamese table. A must-try appetizer here, for instance, is the chao tom. Shrimp, shallots, garlic and sugar are blended into a delicious mousse that is wrapped around a stick of fresh sugar cane, then grilled and presented like a Popsicle, eaten stick and all ($9). Typical spring rolls—crispy fried cha gio filled with shrimp, pork and chopped vegetables—as well as the lighter, plump uncooked versions stuffed inside delicate rice paper as transparent as Céline Dion’s talent are both $4. But consider a more unusual appetizer of squid, crisp-fried with garlic and chiles, then drizzled with a light lime sauce and sitting on a bed of fried spinach and cilantro ($7). Sup nang cua is a simpler though polished version of the classic nam trang soup, a meaty chicken broth loaded with shredded crab, bamboo slices and stirred egg ($6).
Bo luc lac—“shaking beef,” named after the motion of the sauté pan used in cooking it—is simply superb. The marinade of garlic with fish and soy sauces adds a savory complement to the wonderfully tender chunks of meat ($10). Interestingly, Monsoon includes a vegetarian take on this dish, made with tofu ($7). Chilean sea bass appears a couple of times in the specialties menu, and both presentations are elegant. A bass fillet is grilled after being marinated in a mild but fragrant lemongrass bath and is served atop rice noodles with a scattering of cucumber slices, mint leaves and a drizzle of nuoc mam cham. The last is a light sauce of lime juice, sugar and garlic that says “home-cooking” in the Vietnamese kitchen the way Tabasco says “diner food” in Pittsburgh. It is a perfect ingredient to bring out the mild flavor of the fish ($16). Bass is also pan-seared, with lemongrass and chiles, dressed with the same lime sauce ($16).
Curries here are particularly delicious, and recommended to fans of that spice combination because Monsoon appears to use tuong cari, an oil-based curry that is much richer and more subtle than the powdered versions used in some other Vietnamese restaurants. The results are impressive. (That unique flavor you can’t quite place is coriander, a staple in Vietnamese curries.) A plate of curried squid arrived with a generous portion of the mollusk chopped into meaty rings, slathered in a sauce silky smooth with coconut milk, but with a decided fire that unfolds on the palate ($14). Cari ga, or curried chicken, was similarly satisfying, along with sides of sweet potato straws, slivered lemongrass and rice ($9). Note, by the way, that there is no notation on the menu to indicate which dishes are spicy. Those with a tender palate should ask when ordering.
Bun is often translated, as it is on the menu here, as “rice vermicelli.” It’s a misnomer. Bun are much finer than vermicelli, with a unique texture—or more accurately, textures. This restaurant makes an oft-overlooked distinction with bun. Rather than serving only one kind here, Monsoon matches different versions with various dishes, to good effect. In bun tom nuong, a plate generously heaped with char-grilled shrimp, it was “scattered” or bun roi noodles accompanying, along with cucumbers and sliced pickled carrots ($9). But bu tieu xao to bien, a stir-seared jumble of noodles, shrimp, scallops, squid and vegetables, appeared with a much thicker bun that soaked up the lusty juices of the seafood ($14). Bun cha Monsoon is the restaurant’s take on a Hanoi standard from the north of Vietnam, a departure from the majority of other offerings there that reflect a mostly southern approach to cuisine. Grilled pork is matched with mint leaves and other greens in a beefy broth with still another version of rice noodle. Try it, and take a moment to examine some distinctions that make this place’s version outstanding. The pork is grilled so bits of the lightly charred meat flavor the broth. The broth itself is balanced between sweet, salty and savory with a competent blend of salt, vinegar and fish sauce. This is a rare example of an ethnic restaurant presenting a classic dish with just the right spin that keeps it as good as the original but special as well ($8).
An assortment of chi-chi cocktails and several wines are available. Serious gourmets will stick with one of the beers, including the Saigon brand, if they want an appropriate alcoholic drink with dinner. Vietnamese coffee has many addicts. The version here is standard but satisfying.
A strip mall on Manchester Road doesn’t seem a likely location for this way-above-average restaurant. Once inside, however, the interior shines. Pergo floors, crisp linens and blond wood chairs have been carefully selected to achieve a breezy and hip atmosphere. A bold color scheme of lime, orange and deep scarlet adds to the effect. Open less than a year, Monsoon has already attracted a loyal following. Its menu is decidedly more expensive than most other Vietnamese eateries. Just as decidedly, the place is worth it.
