Mắm

I’m sitting on a low plastic stool that I’m not confident will hold the average adult’s weight. It is 5.30pm and the hot afternoon sun is bearing down on me, causing me to sweat. I bite into the head of a whole grilled prawn, shell and all, and the guts and juices contained within spurt out in all directions. The chilli on the prawns and in the green chilli condense milk start to really kick in and my face rapidly turns from Peppa Pig pink to an almost pre-asphyxiation maroon. I think to myself, this is one of those happy to die moments that Anthony Bourdain would have been proud of. Only I’m not sitting roadside at a stall in Hanoi, I’m in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, at the best Vietnamese restaurant in the city. 

I’ve been to Vietnam before. I know what that food is like. I’ve tasted things, and I’ve even managed to cook them (including a whole stuffed squid from scratch). But reading the short menu at Mắm I feel confronted by the descriptions of some of their offerings. Fertilised quail eggs in tamarind sauce? Boneless chicken feet with lemongrass? Garlic fried chicken cartilage? My mind instantly turns to what I imagine is the texture of chomping through crunchy cartilage and a tiny beak and feathers and I wonder if I’ve made a mistake coming here. However all doubt evaporated in an instant when I took my first bite of their raw surf clam salad. Delicate slices of succulent raw surf clam is piled into its own shell, mixed with crunchy snow fungus and dressed in the most exquisite lime-centric dressing punctuated with finely sliced lemongrass and rau răm (Vietnamese mint). I’ve never had raw surf clam before but it has probably become my favourite mollusc to eat raw. It has this perfect interplay of tension and tenderness to bite and a subtle sweetness that makes scallops want to crawl back into the shell they came from. 

When I thought a meal couldn’t get any better, it does.  Our waiter brings us whole grilled prawns that have been fired at a super high eat so that they may be eaten whole, heads, legs, shells and all. I do it, and I love it. It’s almost like the shells are now a thin and crispy batter that makes the prawns not only succulent and tasty but crunchy as well. The prawns have been basted in a spicy concoction made all the more hotter by the creamy and vibrant green chilli condensed milk dipping sauce accompanying it. 

For our main (or as they say in America ‘entree’ which is endlessly confusing for me) we shared the bún đậu đặc biệt, a platter of crispy house-made tofu, sticky rice sausage, blood sausage, boiled pork belly and grilled pork intestines. It comes with little bundles of rice vermicelli noodles, soft herbs like perilla leaf, Thai basil,  sawtooth coriander and rice paddy and the mother of all sauces, mắm tôm. Mắm tôm is made from fermented shrimp paste giving the sauce a bit of texture and the most umami funk. The paste has been mixed with garlic, chilli and lime juice and the flavours balanced in a way only the Vietnamese (and the Thai) can. Picking a little of this and that to tailor your perfect mouthful  is such a delightful way to eat, and despite the description of the very porky products that featured, the dish is refreshingly light. You finish the meal feeling like your tastebuds have run a million miles in all directions, with every taste and texture sampled in a few mouthfuls. 

Mắm is a place you must visit when in Manhattan, whether you’re a homesick Vietnamese or just a person like me with a hearty appreciation of the culinary genius of Vietnam.

Mắm
70 Forsyth St, New York, NY 10002, United States
@mam.nyc