Bánhmì11: The party

Precious moments in the company of good people, under the influence of too much food, drink, and juvenile behavior.

Sometimes, life is a party! On Sunday Bánhmì11 had a late summer party, bún cha and karaoke, for family and friends. Recently it had been all work and no play so in the spirit of the bank holiday weekend, we decided to chill and have some fun. Everywhere in the city seemed empty. It’s as if among London’s denizens, the bad had all gone to southern France to catch the last parties of the season, the good had caravanned to visit family in Wales, and the ugly were busy poking holes in paper bags to prepare for the Notting Hill carnival.

The only people left out-and-about in town were vacation-less stall-holders like us (no need to pity though, we are counting down to mid-September’s awesome adventures…viva la Cuba!). Saturday was quiet at Broadway and business was slow, making time for some pleasant conversations with our regulars. Who knew Ca Phe VN was a place crammed with media folks and rising starlettes on stilettos?

As for the party, they came, they ate, they sang…and they went home without their purse! We have said before, what happens at Bánhmì11 stays at Bánhmì11. Well, in some cases, I suppose they just end up on the website, so virtually…we are still happily mingling in Bánhmì11 land.

8am: No use pretending you are Holly Golightly with satin eye mask and frilly ear plugs sleeping in after your breakfast at Tiffany’s. When it’s bright outside, it’s time to get up and clean the house.

10am: I love my girlfriends! They sliced and diced a whole lot of kohlrabi (and they know exactly what this is too) and carrot into cute little flowers to make pickles. If I were a boy, I would be on my knees popping the question while I still have the chance.

12pm: One of us went off to pick up cupcakes from Bea’s of Bloomsbury, who was selling them that weekend to buy mosquito nets and help fight malaria. We have always been faithful to simple and shell-shaped madeleines (never mentioning the Proustian “vicissitudes of life”) and forgot about cupcakes when that chapter of SATC and Magnolia Bakery closed yester-year. But when Bea makes such wonderful looking food for such a wonderful cause, we have to go for both the cake and the icing.

1pm: The first floor was looking like a hurricane had passed by but rescue crew arrived from the shores of Isles of Dogs. This dynamic duo cleaned up the garden like with a magic wand and rearranged the kitchen with table cloth and all. Watch out for that low-hanging light, it kills brain cells!

3pm: When it comes to entertaining the guests, one should leave it to the professionals. This is why we resorted to our secrete weapon and called on the powers of our family friend, cô Sinh, who brought bánh cuô’n. She had been up since 4am to make these paper-thin Vietnamese rice pancakes filled with mince pork and black mushroom. When you top them with fried shallots and fish sauce, add a few sprigs of mint and coriander, they intrigue your palate with a pleasant rush of flavors. This stuff is so good we could eat kilos of it all day.

4pm: It’s so nice when you have well-behaving and hard-working guests, they do all the work and you can actually attend the party. While everyone is enjoying themselves, the Daydreamer single-handledly grilled all the skewers to charcoal perfection. In between her smokes, Panda fussed around with endearing attention.

5pm: Finally karaoke can begin and everyone is a little bit shy, or perhaps food comatose, so let’s begin with a song that no one understands. We would tell you what it was but we forgot now…let’s just say it was like Luis Miguel but better.

6pm: When Björk is in the room, everyone goes quiet, pressing their ears for those whispering words. That’s how good Panda sings. This girl is born a performer and she makes Ha Tran look like an imitator.

8pm: Let’s see how many ridiculous YouTube videos we can dance to, starting with YMCA, La Bamba, Las Ketchup, Menaito and of course, Macarena. When you get dizzy, follow the Romanian.

9pm: Cultural exchange is all about exploiting stereotypes so after the talk about Argentine steaks, we begged for a tango lesson. Remember to drag your toes, not lift, and shift your weight onto one foot. Resist the man but follow him, step back when he goes forward and move forward when he backs up. If only seduction could be so clearly laid out in so few steps!

10pm: When being fashionably late is a statement, eight hours late to a party must make you a true diva. Nonetheless Mr. High-Frequency-Trader graced us with his presence and even brought along his fabulous friend signorina Si. Oh how we adored everything about her. Très chic in leopard print and quickly très tipsy after a few rounds of rosé. Brownie points for the gentleman of finance and lady of fashion combination, that is certainly very in vogue.

11pm: Drinking games are evil and so are the people who stay sober. Zero, zero, seven…boom! I shot you, you raised your hands, and you must drink. Joy, joy, oh shameful joy in taking pleasure in the suffering of others. Oh well, that is if you call sipping Moët et Chandon suffering.

3am: Tenacity is a virtue, often underappreciated in the context of parties. But you know those people who came first and stayed last, they will be on top of our guest list next time. Bruce Lee, we are glad that just like in uni, we can still count on you for a good time.

So as quickly as summer came in a couple of heat waves, it seems to have left us with nothing but the gusty winds of autumn. Last Saturday we had the best day, foodwise, with an improved recipe to make xá xíu and pate. This Saturday, we are launching a new bánh mì, very different from what’s currently on the menu. The party is over but as always, making bánh mì in London is a cakewalk right over some crazy line between conspicuously happy and passionately maniac. Tough life!

Photo Credits: Phuong N. Nguyen and Vu A. Tran

Posted on: 03.09.2009