Glass Noodle Salad — The Vietnamese Half of My Menu

I signed the lease on Wednesday. February 5, 2020. Bobby Tran BBQ now has an address: 1847 Washington Avenue, Houston, Texas. David Chen met me at the space with the paperwork. I read every page — twice. $4,500 per month, first two months free for build-out, one-year lease with a two-year option. I signed with a pen that felt heavier than any pen I've ever held. My hand was steady. Sober hands are steady hands. I walked through the space alone after David left. Empty dining room. Bare kitchen. The walk-in humming. The hood system waiting. The walls waiting for whatever I'm going to put on them. I stood in the center of the kitchen and closed my eyes and I could hear it: the sizzle of the flat-top, the hiss of the steamer, the clatter of plates, the hum of a room full of people eating food I made. I opened my eyes. Empty room. But not for long. The build-out plan: two months. March and April. Open in May. The timeline is aggressive. The work is enormous: paint, floors, equipment installation, permitting, health inspection, signage, menus, staffing. I need a contractor, a designer, an accountant, and a prayer. What I have: Tyler (construction and mechanical work — he volunteered immediately). Emma (menu development, kitchen design, service flow). Lily (branding, social media, front-of-house design). Ma (spring rolls and the moral authority of a seventy-three-year-old matriarch). Hector (business advice, emotional support, carnitas). Bill (the voice of reason and the reminder that one day at a time applies to restaurants too). I haven't quit my day job. Not yet. I'll work the restaurant in the evenings and weekends and let the day job fund the build-out. When — if — the restaurant is profitable enough, I'll make the leap. Cautious. Incremental. One day at a time. Emma's first design decision: the restaurant will have an open kitchen. You'll see everything — the smoker through a window, the prep station, the pho station. No secrets. Because the story is the food and the food is the story and both should be visible. Lily's first design decision: the logo. She presented three final options and the family voted. The winner: a simple line drawing of a smoker with Vietnamese text above it — "Khói vá N╞░ß╗¢c Mß║»m" — Smoke and Fish Sauce. Below, in English: "Bobby Tran BBQ." Smoke and Fish Sauce. That's the name. That's me. I called Christine to tell her. She said, "Bobby, are you sure?" I said, "No. But I'm doing it anyway." She said, "That's how you've done everything good in your life." She's not wrong. The sobriety, the cooking, the kids. None of it came from certainty. It all came from doing it anyway. The restaurant opens in May. Or it doesn't. But the lease is signed. The name is chosen. The fire is lit.

The lease is signed, the name is chosen, and now the hardest question begins: what do we actually cook? Emma and I have been going back and forth on the menu for weeks, and the one thing we keep coming back to is balance—the smoke and the brightness, the low-and-slow brisket and the clean, herbaceous Vietnamese side that makes your mouth ready for the next bite. This glass noodle salad is exactly that counterweight. It’s the “fish sauce” half of Smoke and Fish Sauce—cool, tangy, alive with herbs—and every time I make it at home I can already hear it landing on a table next to a pile of smoked meat in that empty dining room that won’t be empty for long.

Glass Noodle Salad

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 5 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

• 4 oz dried glass noodles (mung bean vermicelli)
• 1/2 lb medium shrimp, peeled, deveined, and halved lengthwise
• 1 cup shredded rotisserie chicken or poached chicken breast
• 1 cup thinly sliced cucumber (half-moon cuts)
• 1 cup shredded carrots
• 1/2 cup thinly sliced red onion, soaked in cold water 10 minutes and drained
• 1/2 cup fresh mint leaves
• 1/2 cup fresh cilantro leaves
• 1/4 cup roasted peanuts, roughly chopped
• 2 tbsp fried shallots (store-bought or homemade)
• 3 tbsp fish sauce
• 2 tbsp fresh lime juice (about 2 limes)
• 1 tbsp rice vinegar
• 1 tbsp sugar
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1 small red Thai chili, thinly sliced (or 1/2 tsp chili flakes)
• 1 tsp sesame oil

Instructions

1. Soak the noodles. Place glass noodles in a large bowl and cover with boiling water. Let soak 5—7 minutes until tender but still slightly chewy. Drain, rinse under cold water, and use scissors to cut into roughly 4-inch lengths. Set aside.
2. Cook the shrimp. Bring a small pot of salted water to a boil. Add shrimp and cook 1—2 minutes until pink and just cooked through. Drain immediately and transfer to an ice bath to stop cooking. Pat dry.
3. Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together fish sauce, lime juice, rice vinegar, sugar, minced garlic, sliced chili, and sesame oil until sugar is fully dissolved. Taste and adjust—it should be bright, salty, and slightly sweet.
4. Combine the salad. In a large mixing bowl, combine the drained noodles, shrimp, chicken, cucumber, carrots, and drained red onion. Pour the dressing over the top and toss well to coat everything evenly.
5. Add the herbs. Fold in the mint and cilantro gently so the leaves stay whole and fresh-looking.
6. Garnish and serve. Transfer to a serving platter or individual bowls. Top with chopped peanuts and fried shallots just before serving so they stay crisp. Serve immediately at room temperature, or refrigerate up to 1 hour (add garnishes at the last moment).

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 24g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 920mg