International Lifestyle Magazine Issue 50 | Page 113

rare breed, and the bun was a hand-drawn sourdough. A new generation considered street food. And when they saw the exciting developments in America, they got very excited about the idea of of high-quality meals on wheels. Street food in America has always struggled with its working class roots – it came from the 1970s “roach coaches”, which sold cheap food to Mexican workers. They migrated up the coast to LA, north to Portland and east to New York. They fed the the janitors, the secretaries, and the guys on the construction sites. But then the food writers discovered them. All of a sudden, street food was for people in the know, who wanted something spontaneous – and authentic. And, as it happened, cool. American street food had an element of theatre. The Elysburg lemon, for instance, sells the sweetest sourest homemade lemonade. From a 10-ft fruit made of bright yellow polyurethane. And Maximum Minimus sells pulled pork sandwiches from a lunch wagon that’s been transformed into a giant silver pig. It’s got ears, snout and a tail – and even a giant pair of sunglasses if it turns sunny. In America, street food is show business. The street food revolution is happening all across Europe too. In Berlin it’s rösti – huge, plate-sized portions of fried potato, slathered with apple sauce. And, in Rome, it’s pizza. Although street pizza is very different from the pizzeria pizza. Unlike the 12” rounds you find in a restaurant, “pizza a taglio” is made on large square trays, and sold by the rectangle. It’s much easier to hold, and leaves you with one hand free to steer your Vespa. In many ways, French crepes are the definitive street food. They can’t be made in advance for a large group of people. They must be created, one by one, and eaten immediately to retain their essential crepeness. Which means that the eating must be done in the same location as the cooking. And what better location than the street? If they’re folded properly, they’re absurdly easy to carry. But be warned. It’s origami – get it wrong, and you’re left with a screwed up bit of nothing.

Like crepes, churros are infinitely adaptable. These little fingers of batter were developed by Spanish shepherds, many centuries ago, and take their name from the curled horns of the Churra sheep, but there’s now a world of churros out there. There’s the fruit-filled Cuban churro, or the Brazilian churro that comes stuffed with doce de leite chocolate. In Uruguay, churros are savoury, and come filled with melted cheese. But European street food still isn’t as wide-ranging as it is in the Far East. In Vietnam, life is something that happens on the street. You can get your hair cut by the barber who has set up his chair by a school, with a mirror tied to the railings; you can buy your lottery ticket at a little wooden hut by the crossroads; and, of course, you can eat. The street food in Vietnam is the best in the world. Whether it’s from the woman who carries her soup kitchen in a “don ganh” (a yoke, with baskets at each end of a wooden pole) or the man who pushes a bicycle cart, and rings a little bell to announce the arrival of his fish stew, you won’t be disappointed. Pho (pronounced “fer”) is Vietnam’s signature dish. The fragrant beef noodle soup is an institution. And to watch its preparation is like watching a play. First, a sieve of rice noodles is poured in to your bowl. That’s followed by a few slices of white onion, some finely chopped chilli, a few shavings of ginger, a handful of bean sprouts and some raw beef. The final flourish is a fresh beef stock, poured over the top, and sprinkled with a grind of black pepper. You can practically eat the steam. But the people of Vietnam are most proud of their bánh mì – the crusty baguettes, filled with pork, homemade mayonnaise and a heavenly pâté, that are layered with crisp pickles and fresh herbs. Hawkers sell them on every street corner. In Vietnam, every hour is bánh mì hour, as long as the baguettes are still warm. When the bread lends its gentle heat to the pork, mayonnaise and pâté filling, it’s something close to alchemy. Street food traders are now taking traditional foods such as bánh mì, falafel and pizza and evolving

them. In a car park in Santa Monica, I tasted how traders were bringing together different dishes and ingredients to create a new American cuisine. I tried Japanese Hot Dogs, smothered in soy mayo, teriyaki sauce and nori. I tried Korean tacos. And I tried Viking soul food. And (mostly) the experiments in taste worked. That’s why, right now, street food is the most exciting food in the world.

Richard Johnson is an awardwinning journalist (http:// flavors.me/richardjohnson) who has launched his own food festival. The British Street Food Awards (www. britishstreetfood.co.uk) are hitting London on the weekend of September 28-29.

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