Stop And Get Me On The Ride Up

Roadside Mystery Meat Roll
I’d been unceremoniously ejected from a cab when the initial price negotiated went south and I found myself stranded on a random street corner in Saigon. Irritated as I was I soon found a distraction in the shape of a banh mi cart. I’d come to love the snack that embodies the French legacy in Indochina. A crunchy white roll, slathered with pate, topped with meat and salad and doused in a salty, tangy sauce. But my first banh mi was the most memorable as it was my first interaction with the vendors who provide the dizzying array of street food for which South East Asia is famous. It was early morning and I’d not long arrived in Siem Riep. The cart was on the side of the road with an old man behind it and the fixings for the rolls inside. Not knowing much more than Hello, Please and Thank You in Khmer I resorted to that hybrid of local and sign language. Hello. [Holds up 1 finger] Please. How much? The man replied but all the numbers I’d diligently learnt flew from my head. After much repetition from the vendor and a blank face from me he too resorted to sign. 1 finger, then 1 finger folded in half. Ah! $1.50! Thank you! In reality this took several minutes with plenty of good natured smiling on both sides. I was aware of banh mi’s more mysterious elements (I’d later affectionately dub them mystery meat rolls) so there was a voice in my head questioning its potential effect on my system. Luckily these fears were for naught and I explored the town, scattering crumbs like some backpacking Hansel and Gretel. More mystery meat rolls followed. One with Laughing Cow cheese in Phnom Penh, grilled pork in Savannakhet and one with the lot in Hoi An. And of course the one served on that street corner in Saigon assembled by a man with a cigarette in his mouth, slathering on mayonnaise that looked like it had been out in the sun for several days. But like all the rolls that had come before I survived complete in my surrender to the mystery of the roll.