Pastry Passport Week ⓸: Bánh Bò Nướng with Doris Hồ-Kane of Bạn Bè
Hello there!
Much like people working in most other industries, bakers — the same as athletes, artists, writers, you name it — have titans of the baking world who they look up to. I have a few that I think about often, people whose newsletters I read religiously, whose Instagram posts I comment on effusively (a thing I am usually too shy to do otherwise), and who inspire me to be better at my craft. For years, Doris Hồ-Kane — a baker, writer, and archivist behind the Vietnamese bakery project Bạn Bè — has been one of those people to me. Everything Doris bakes, creates, or writes, I have loved and obsessed over from afar and thought, “This is a person I am constantly inspired by.”
Color me extremely surprised and touched, then, when Doris agreed to be a part of our Pastry Passport summer with the recipe for her legendary bánh bò nướng — a Vietnamese pandan honeycomb cake. Bánh bò nướng (roughly pronounced bahn baww noon — “The ‘g’ in nướng is a soft g sound that is subtle,” Doris says) is one of the most special cakes on earth, in my estimation. I’ve done half a dozen tests and I feel I could keep testing this cake until the end of the earth: perfecting it is one of the biggest baking challenges I’ve ever faced. It’s a beautiful flavor (coconut and pandan, a lightly grassy, vanilla-forward flavor), an outrageously special texture (chewy, squidgy, spongy), and it’s gluten-free so can be enjoyed by many. I am honored that Doris responded in kind to my emails and DMs asking for guidance when I wasn’t quite getting it right.
This weekend, we’ve decided to really gild the lily and do bánh bò nướng right: we’ll be serving slices of this incredible cake with housemade toasted coconut custard ice cream, preportioned in 8-oz containers. A slice of cake and a container of ice cream will be $11 together, or $6 for cake and $6 for ice cream separately. Come from 9am to 12pm to get your passport stamped!
I had the joy of talking to Doris about her baking, writing, and archiving life for the newsletter. Go follow her at Bạn Bè and then keep an eye on this account for some exciting news to come.
Downtime Bakery: Tell me a bit about yourself and your baking background. What are you working on?
Doris Hồ-Kane: I’m a proud daughter of refugees; Vietnamese boat people. I’m the founder, creative director, and baker behind Bạn Bè, which has been featured in publications including The New York Times, New York Magazine, Food & Wine, and Saveur. I recently moonlighted as a food writer for T: The New York Times Style Magazine. I’m also an historian and archivist of East and Southeast Asian trailblazers whose legacies have been obscured by traditional history-telling. Before focusing on baking and archiving, I worked for over a decade in the fashion industry as an apparel designer, buyer, consultant, and stylist. I live in Brooklyn with my family.
DTB: What is your relationship to Bánh Bò Nướng? Any memories from eating this cake that stand out?
DHK: Bánh bò nướng has been a part of my life since I was a bub—teeny tiny. I first encountered it at a small mom 'n pop Vietnamese market that had recently opened up nearby. Before that, there were no Vietnamese grocery stores in our area (mid-80s, Texas). I instantly spotted the softly fluorescent green cake slices cradled inside a styrofoam tray, swathed so tightly in plastic wrap. I stood on my tippy-toes to grab one and smushed my nose against the plastic. I inhaled. It smelled like a dream. I placed it in my mom's red plastic basket and hoped she wouldn't remove it before checking out, as she usually did with most of the miscellanea my siblings and I would throw in there. When we got in the car, she unwrapped the plastic, and handed a craggy, hole-y (holy!) slice to me.
I bit down, and chewed for what seemed like forever. It was my first bite of B.B.N. and I never wanted it to end! My recipe is a chaotic synthesis of a recipe I had found in an old Vietnamese community cookbook from the 90s, tips from my mom and countless YouTube aunties, and just a lot of tests on my end. I finally landed on this version, which was a huge hit at our bakery. Customers would wait in long lines for it!
DTB: What makes pandan honeycomb cake special? How should it taste? How should it feel to eat it?
DHK: It's so special because there is nothing else like it. There are different iterations across Southeast Asia, but this one is my favorite. It should have a nice golden brown crust that supports the beautifully squishy interior. It should taste and squish almost like a marshmallow. There is a really satisfying chew. It's slightly eggy with a phantom buttery-ness. Pandan is a singular flavor that I can best describe as gently grassy, with notes of vanilla, and a tender touch of melon.
DTB: Tell us what you wish people understood about Vietnamese baking. What makes it special? What do you find is hardest to get right as a novice in Vietnamese baking? What are some of your favorite flavors and textures in Vietnamese baking?
DHK: Vietnamese baking is not always baking, because our desserts are often steamed, boiled, and simmered. But when we do use an oven, I always say that Vietnamese baking is punk rock, because it's fast, high speed, energetic, and noisy! There's a lot of slapping and rolling, especially when making ổ bánh mì (Vietnamese baguette) versus a French one. I think the hardest things to get right as a novice in Vietnamese baking are the beautiful channels and tunnels found in bánh bò nướng. It's a very finicky cake! Some of my favorite flavors in Vietnamese baking are pandan, coffee, coconut, lime, lemongrass, and tamarind, and the chiaroscuro of sweet v. tart, and mellow v. sharp. And what's the opposite of bitter? The textures I love are chewiness, bounciness, squiggly-ness, and all that jiggles and goos.
DTB: What are you working on now? Anything you want to plug?
DHK: I have been working on a book based on my archive and research of East and Southeast Asian women's history for years now, and I'm excited that I can see the finish line on the horizon. "Chậm mà chắc" is a Vietnamese idiom meaning slow but sure, and this is exactly what the manuscript and Bạn Bè are all about. Speaking of Bạn Bè, I have news that I cannot wait to share when it's time!
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I've learned so much! "The textures I love are chewiness, bounciness, squiggly-ness, and all that jiggles and goos." Poetry in action!
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