Nem Kao – Laotian Banh Cuon in Luang Prabang

I had skipped lunch. That doesn’t sound like me at all, but it was sweltering at 1pm when the internet in Luang Prabang cut out, ejecting me from the cool quiet of the cafe. I couldn’t fathom trekking around trying to find a Laotian eatery that fit my requirements (ie, one not purely for tourists), so I retreated to my guesthouse and snacked on bananas, melty chocolate, sticky coconut sweets and some strange red fruits I had bought at the market earlier. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that I was ravenous when I finally emerged in the late afternoon. The destination at the top of my list was the local food market.

Now, steamed rice pancakes aren’t my favourite. I’ve barely mentioned Banh Cuon here and I rarely pick Chee Cheong Fun at Yum Cha. There is something about its gluggy blandness that fails to appeal. So I passed a lady making a Laotian version of Banh Cuon and kept walking. A moment later I paused to consider that perhaps light cooling dish would be the perfect snack for a hot afternoon. I turned and a woman waiting for takeaway looked at me and said ‘steamed’. I was sold. I sat myself down on the rickety wooden bench and ordered one.
First the sauce, a spoonful of crushed peanuts is mixed with a fish sauce concoltion to which the elderly lady beside me insists I add lime juice and a spoonful of potent homemade chilli sauce. A perfectly thin steamed rice flour pancake is filled with a finely chopped pork and wood ear mushroom mix and topped with fried shallots. I forwent the steamed pork forcemeat wrapped in banana leaves and instead chose a boiled egg as an accompaniment. Does anyone know how they cook these eggs?

I thought about this dish for days, and ate it more than a few times during my stay in Luang Prabang. It was so similar to the Banh Cuon in Hanoi, but so much tastier. Maybe it was the quality of the dipping sauce, so good that I drank the remainder after drenching my rolls, maybe the homemade chilli sauce that lifted it up a notch. An important difference was the fineness and evenness of the rice pancake wrapping, this lady showed skill and attention to detail in that area.
On a hellish bus ride to Vientiane I met a cook who works on a fancy boat in Luang Prabang. We bonded over food and I asked him about this dish. After some language issues, we went through crepe all the way to sandwich, I showed him a picture of the dish. His eyes lit up ‘Vietnam food, called Banh Cuon. I can make!’ and proceeded to give me a recipe for this dish. I found out the name Nem Kao when EatingAsia visited Luang Prabang a few days after me. Check out their post for a better description and more fabulous photos. And eat Nem Kao, a Laotian version of Vietnamese Banh Cuon, if you are ever in Luang Prabang. It might just be better than eating it in Hanoi.

Nem Kao is available in the afternoon at the fresh food end of the night food market. Eating Asia noted that it is also available at the morning market in Luang Prabang, one street up running parallel to the Mekong.
3 Comments
Mmmm these little pancakes look great. I love the silkiness of the noodle.
.-= Mark @ Cafe Campana´s last blog ..Borrowing a Winner – Vanilla Pannacotta =-.
Yum! You’re making me mighty hungry, and giving me wanderlust. I want to be in Asia! *sigh*
Not sure about the way the Vietnamese make the eggs, but from the look of them they remind me of Chinese tea eggs (braised in “master stock” made using star anise, soy sauce and other things) or Chinese pickled malt vinegar eggs. Sound like the right flavours?
.-= Forager´s last blog ..Celebrating in style at Berowra Waters Inn =-.
Mark @ Cafe Campana: They really were something.
Forager: Interesting about the eggs. Im sure that they were cooked or soaked in some sort of masterstock. I say soaked because they weren’t overcooked at all like various Chinese Tea Eggs that I’ve encountered. Maybe they were par-boiled, peeled and cooked through and soaked in masterstock.