By Saigon, Day 2 through Day 5. Mai's old neighborhood in District 5 (Cholon, the historically-Chinese district). We took a taxi to the address from her childhood photos — the laminated paper I had brought with me. The driver knew the area. He drove slowly down the street and slowed in front of a high-rise apartment building. Mai stared at it. The building had not been there in 1975. The building was new — maybe twenty years old. Mai got out of the taxi and stood on the sidewalk. The driver waited. I waited. Mai stood. She looked up at the building. She turned in a slow circle. She looked at the corner. She looked at the street vendor selling bánh mì at the end of the block. She walked over to the vendor and ordered a bánh mì. She paid in dong. She came back to me with the sandwich.
She unwrapped it. She tasted it. She closed her eyes for a long moment. Then she said, in Vietnamese, "Same bread. Same pâté. Different street. Different country." She handed me a piece. I tasted it. The bread was right. The pâté was right. The pickled daikon was right. The sandwich was forty-five years old and made fresh that morning. I was eating my mother's childhood. I was eating it on the corner where she had eaten it as a girl. I cried on the sidewalk in Saigon. Mai didn't cry. Mai had already cried about this sandwich, in 1975, on a boat. Mai's crying about it was finished. Now it was just a sandwich.
The cemetery on Day 3 was harder. Mai had a name and a general area. We hired a guide — a man named Hoàng, sixty years old, who knew the old families and the old graveyards. He drove us out of the city to a smaller graveyard in a suburb. Mai walked among the graves slowly with her cane. After two hours she found her parents' shared grave. The marker was old, the inscription faded, but the names were clear. Mai stood at the grave for forty-five minutes. She did not say anything. I did not say anything. Hoàng waited at the gate. The wind moved in the old trees. At one point Mai sat down on the small bench by the grave. She closed her eyes. Then she opened them and said, in Vietnamese, "Mẹ, ba, con đã về." Mom, dad, I came home. She stood up. We left the offerings — fruit, incense, the bottle of Maker's Mark which I poured a small cup at the grave and then poured the rest at the foot — and walked back to the car. Mai did not speak on the drive back. I did not press. The day was complete.
When Hoàng drove us back from the cemetery, the fruit we had left at my grandparents’ grave was still in my mind — simple, whole, placed with two hands. In the weeks after we returned home, I kept reaching for stone fruit at the market the way Mai had reached for that bánh mì on the corner: looking for something that tasted like it had always existed, like it could hold a memory steady. These balsamic-goat cheese grilled plums are not a Vietnamese dish, but the act of offering fruit, of letting heat open something sweet and a little dark, felt right in a way I didn’t need to explain.
Balsamic-Goat Cheese Grilled Plums
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 8 minutes | Total Time: 18 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 4 ripe but firm plums, halved and pitted
- 1 tablespoon olive oil
- 2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
- 1 teaspoon honey, plus more for drizzling
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 3 oz soft goat cheese, crumbled
- 2 tablespoons chopped toasted walnuts
- 1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves (or fresh basil, torn)
- Flaky sea salt, to finish
Instructions
- Preheat the grill. Heat a grill or grill pan over medium-high heat. Brush the grates lightly with oil to prevent sticking.
- Prepare the plums. Halve and pit the plums. Brush the cut sides with olive oil and season lightly with black pepper.
- Make the balsamic glaze. In a small saucepan over medium-low heat, combine the balsamic vinegar and 1 teaspoon honey. Simmer, stirring occasionally, for 3 to 4 minutes until slightly thickened. Remove from heat and set aside.
- Grill the plums. Place plums cut-side down on the grill. Cook undisturbed for 3 to 4 minutes, until grill marks appear and the flesh softens slightly but the plums still hold their shape. Flip and grill flesh-side up for 1 to 2 more minutes.
- Assemble. Transfer grilled plums cut-side up to a serving platter. Immediately crumble goat cheese into the center of each half. Drizzle with the balsamic glaze and a little extra honey.
- Finish and serve. Scatter toasted walnuts and fresh thyme leaves over the top. Finish with a pinch of flaky sea salt. Serve warm.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 165 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 16g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 135mg