Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
Driving—or more likely crawling—down Dorsett just east of I-270 at five o’clock weekdays, one is daily transported from the inevitable and sclerotic snarl of traffic by the bells of Zion Lutheran Church, which right at that time peal out with a spectacular rendition of A Mighty Fortress.
It’s a lovely respite, one that lasted only long enough the other day for us, eastbound, to catch the sign in the strip mall a little further down on the opposite side of Dorsett proclaiming in no uncertain terms, DD Mau.
"Same to you, pal," was our first thought. It’s the Vietnamese equivalent of “Get lost!” (Colloquially, it's a little stronger than that.)
Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
Owner Julie Truong
Curiosity being what it is, we had to turn in to the parking lot. Up close, the rest of the window signage was less insulting.
“Banh Mi. Cui Guon, Wholesome Vietnamese Food Fast.”
“We’re using the expression to mean you can ‘come in and get out quickly,’” explained the owner of the new place when we went in to investigate. “It’s another way of saying ‘fast food.’”
DD Mau (11982 Dorsett) isn’t, however, what you might be expecting for a lunch or quick, take-out pickup.
The offerings of Vietnamese cuisine in St. Louis have been largely confined to restaurant fare like pho and the gossamer-wrapped cui guon spring rolls. This is a first for the area: a sit-down place that also operates like an informal chain-type eatery. On a recent visit, there was an equal number of visitors dining in and taking out.
It’s spacious, transformed from the earlier Rice House location here, with lots of tables and blessedly, none of the ersatz “Oriental” décor that trivializes the atmosphere of too many Asian restaurants. (There are some painful culinary pun-pictures on the walls.) It’s unpretentious; the idea is to serve healthy, reasonably authentic Vietnamese food that’s easy to eat and affordably priced.
The menu’s not all that large. Still, even if you’re familiar with Vietnamese food, it can be a little confusing. Here’s what you need to know:
“Snacks” here are egg rolls, or cha gio, the crispy, golden stubby rolls that crunch, filled with pork, shrimp, noodles, or vegetables, with a vinaigrette on the side that’s salty-sweet, with just a hint of chili. They’re fine as a starter but they lack a lot of the subtle sophistication that marks good Vietnamese fare; and while they might be familiar, this is a place to branch out a bit.
Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
Spring rolls (pictured above) are fatter and. unlike the fried egg rolls, the wrapping is a papery, translucent sheet made of rice flour, holding shredded lettuce, cabbage, sliced cucumber, and straw-thin noodles. They’re spongy in texture, perfect for dipping in the accompanying sauces.
Good Vietnamese food usually features a combination of ngu vi, five elements, salty, sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy. These goi cuon are superior to many served in town and they offer a glimpse into those combinations, the salty-spice of the fish-sauced based dip, the sweetness of the shredded carrots, the bitter of cucumber, and that faint hint of sour from the cabbage.
Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
A little more substantial are bao sliders. Bao—think of them as like little taco shells if taco shells were light, fluffy bread folded over steak, shrimp, chicken, pork slices, or tofu, along with daikon radish and carrot pickles, bright cilantro, and jalapeno slices. Bao buns can make or break these sliders; if the bread’s not right it doesn’t matter how good the ingredients.
At DD Mau, they’re using—we asked before ordering; it’s that important—bao from a wholesaler, and they are decidedly superior, Taiwanese-style, which means they’re even fluffier than what you might have had elsewhere. They’re only a couple of big bites each; even so, the combination of textures, the airy cushion of the bun plays against the solid ingredients.
Speaking of suppliers, we also asked about the bread for the banh mi sandwiches (pictured below). A crusty French loaf is as vital to banh mi as those round, Italian-style loaves are to a New Orleans muffuletta.
“They’re from La Bonne Bouchee,” the owner told us—all we needed to hear. That great bakery must supply about 95 percent of the Vietnamese restaurants in town, and they’ve got it down perfectly. (Notice the baguettes here look superficially like a normal French version. They’re different, though, with a more delicate crust and a larger “bead,” the holes in the bread that give it less substance and heft, more elegant tenderness. Vietnamese bread for banh mi should have some rice flour mixed in with the wheat to get this texture; DD Mau’s certainly tastes and feels as if it does.)
The banh mi we ordered was packed with lightly charred steak nibbles, pickled vegetables, cilantro, and a smooth, creamy house-made mayonnaise. It’s more than a foot long, a very fine lunch.
Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
Not to delve too deeply into things, but before taking a bite of that sandwich, it’s worthwhile to take a look at it. Not only are the five elements of taste a hallmark of Vietnamese cuisine, there’s an emphasis on ngu sac, five colors, that play to the eyes. Banh mi aren’t just thrown together when they’re made like these. You can see the white, green, yellow, red, and black combination in this sandwich, layered, inviting.
Photography by Kevin A. Roberts
Bowls are the biggest items on the menu, filled with rice or salad greens or the classic bun thit nuong: threads of rice noodles. All can be fortified with steak, shrimp, chicken, pork, or tofu, all are hearty but light enough you’re not going to feel stuffed.
Given the importance of contrast in so much of Vietnam’s cuisine, the lack of hot foods—specifically pho—at this place tilted things, however slightly, out of balance. That’s why it was nice to see, on another visit just last week, those steaming bowls of noodle-rich satisfaction added to the menu.
Pho here is creditable, with the usual options: brisket, meatballs, even a tofu offering. What’s notable is a superior broth that’s essential for the dish—and a particularly generous portion of thread-like rice noodles. It’s a substantial lunch or dinner.
DD Mau is a canny addition to the West County food scene, cleverly located in the midst of numerous offices and businesses to take advantage of a big lunch crowd. It’s conveniently located close enough to I-270 to be accessible to stop by for a quick dinner or a leisurely meal or to get take-out. (Ordering online makes this even more attractive.)
The banh mi, bowls, and sliders are a real alternative to heavier foods, with a touch of the exotic that should appeal to diners tired of the same old thing.
Just don’t take the name personally.
