Ask a foodie: You, me & bánh mi

Dear Future Husband,

Happy Day Before Valentine’s Day! For the first time in a long time, I found my mind drifting to thoughts about you, which I admit is pretty strange since we haven’t met. What do you look like? What’s your name? How do you feel about puppies, babies and the Dallas Cowboys (generally speaking, of course)? Do you believe in God? Do you sleep with your socks on? I know you don’t wear Croc’s because a God who loves me would surely draw the line there, wouldn’t he?

Where are you?

Are you adventuring in New Zealand? Are you walking the Camino de Santiago on a spiritual journey? Did you discover a mystical gang of leprechauns on a trek through Ireland who have you trapped in a deep pit to keep their existence a secret while protecting their pot of gold? I bet that’s it, and you are patiently awaiting an opportunity to escape and find your way to me.

What are you thinking? Are you thinking about me? Are you feeling guilty about not getting me anything for Valentine’s Day? No worries. You will have plenty of time to make it up to me. Actually, at our age, maybe you won’t. If you hurry, we may have a good 30 to 40 years left, but none of us is promised tomorrow, so we may have to settle for a great week or two.

In the interest of time, I figured I’d get a jump on celebrating our love. What better way to do that than with a romantic, candlelit dinner? I imagine if you were here, you would whisk me off to a beautiful restaurant with white tablecloths, too many utensils to keep track of, and the need to speak in hushed tones amongst couples of all ages doing the same. I’m sure it would have been lovely, if not a bit awkward. I mentally stored that plan and went where my heart led me.

My heart led me to Mana Tea for its, until recently, elusive bánh mi along with a Vietnamese coffee.

New and exciting is always an option, but every now and then, we have an opportunity to revisit the best parts of the past.

I’d met the Mana Tea bánh mi sandwich a year or two ago. There are other places to find the sandwich in town, but theirs was perfection. Then, one Sunday afternoon, I strolled into their bubble tea shop ravenously hungry. I was ready to indulge my desires, only to discover the bánh mi was gone. It was no longer on the menu. I wanted to cry, partly because I was starving but also because my heart was broken. My first bite of their sliced toasted baguette lightly slathered with a creamy tart and tangy sauce before being filled with house made cha lua (Vietnamese sausage), cilantro, pickled daikon, long thinly sliced cucumber, onion and crisp sliced jalapenos was held the satisfaction of a long awaited first kiss. Then, it was gone. It lingered in the memory of my taste buds. It haunted me.

Then, one day last week, it was back.

If I were writing a scene from a movie, I would have looked up from my sandwich and seen you. We would have locked eyes as the world seemed to fall away around us.

Us. You, me and a bánh mi.

But, you weren’t there. Who knows where you are or what you’re doing? Not me, and I don’t need to know. You do you, as they say. I pushed my book aside and delighted in each savory bite of the scrumptious sandwich.

The Mana Tea bánh mi is officially back and all is right in bubble tea land. Except for one thing …

Where are you?

Mary Ann Castillo has more than 50 years of eating experience with no plans to stop.