We started the day meeting the chef over coffee. We looked over the menu and talked about what dishes would be best to prepare. After some debate, we decided on the following:

• Banana flower salad
• Fresh spring rolls
• Banh xeo (Vietnamese pancakes)
• Grilled fish in banana leaf

Then the chef surprised us each with traditional Vietnamese hats to wear to the market. The first phase of the class was visiting the local market to identify and purchase the ingredients we needed. Our first stop, the veggie section, was filled with women donning their silk pajamas and traditional hats crammed behind their baskets overflowing with red chilies, fresh morning glory, garlic, aubergine, carrots, etc. There were tomatoes stacked neatly in piles, purple onions flowering the walkways, and bright green bean sprouts scattered between several different tables. The chef pointed out the vegetables specific to Vietnam and bought the ones we would be using in our food later that morning.

The fruit section was filled with the standards: apples, mangos, bananas, oranges and more, but one local fruit, the dragonfruit, always caught my eye (if only it taste as good as it looked).

Next, we snaked our way through the small aisles fighting the bustling local crowd to the fish. It was right along the river, but being out in the open didn’t help whisk away the hot, muggy, fishy smell. There were large fish and small fish, live fish and dead fish, there were fish that were being filleted and even fish being ground into fish cakes. We picked our cuttle fish quickly and kept moving (trying to dodge the fish guts on the ground with our sandals).

Finally to the meat market, where in addition to the standard cuts of raw meat (not refrigerated of course), we found live chickens in their cages, full size pigs waiting to be slaughtered, and numerous other animal parts including hooves, ears, intestines and brains. It had less of a smell than the fish market, but seeing the pigs squealing as they were being pulled from their pen by their hind legs didn’t make me feel any better. Finally, we stopped to pick up a few lovely smelling spices on our way out of the market.

We headed back to the restaurant where we were given our chef jackets and hats. We worked our way through the process of making each dish. First chopping and slicing the ingredients, then mixing the sauces, filleted the meat and finally preparing the dishes. To top it off, we were even taught a few tips on food presentation. By noon, we had successfully prepared 4 beautiful dishes each! And of course we saved the best part for last… sitting down and enjoy our freshly prepared Vietnamese meal!

If you’re interested in any of the recipes, feel free to email us at contact[at]withoutaguide[dot]com and we’d be more than happy to send them to you!

“Where is the cheapest chicken?” I asked thinking it was going to be at one of the larger grocery stores. There was a moment of silence and then Baraka said with a slight smile, “We will be picking one out at the market and then we will bring it home and slaughter it.” WHAT? Did i hear that correctly?? That’s crazy! Then again, did I really think they bought frozen chickens in the grocery store when most people here don’t even have freezers? Of course they would slaughter their own chicken just before the big meal. Baraka could tell I was intrigued and invited us along for the experience.

The next morning, while Neema visited with her estranged father, Chris, Baraka, and I headed down the road to the market. When we arrived at the chicken coops, Baraka turned to me and said, “Choose the chicken we will eat. And make sure you grab a hen because they taste better.” I gave him a look of horror and bewilderment as I quickly turned my head to my prey. I actually had to grab the chicken out of the big cage? Baraka opened the door and I slowly put my hands in, trying to figure out which bird would put up the least fight. Sadly, I’ll admit that I was somewhat scared that one would turn and bite me and I would come down with an actual bird flu of some sort. Then, when I finally committed to grabbing one, I missed her. They are fast little suckers! Finally, the chicken coop owner became annoyed with my shenanigans, pushed me aside, and grabbed one of the hens by its wing, and shoved it towards me to hold on to.  I positioned both of its wings behind its back to be sure it wouldn’t escape, and I followed the guy behind the chicken coop to the slaughter house. Surprisingly, the chicken squawked but didn’t put up a fight. Thank you Miss Chicken for not making me look any dumber than I already looked.

I knew we were getting close to the slaughter house when the putrid smell of raw chicken, blood and guts roasting in the mid morning sun caught my nostrils. Whoa… it was nauseating! The shack that housed the men working was tiny. The roof consisted of rusted sheet metal and small, aged branches. There were two of four walls built holding the roof up. There was a sign above the shack with pricing on how much it cost to hire the guys to slaughter the chicken. Luckily it was cheap (~ $0.25 USD) so Baraka decided to hire them to do it quickly instead of us doing it at home. Baraka still wanted me to help after he realized that I had never slaughtered a chicken. I was up front and center when I handed the chicken off to the axe man. He took the chicken, threw it down on the ground and with one swift swing of the axe, the chicken was now two. Ugh, there was blood covering the walls and I quickly glanced down at my legs to make sure the blood hadn’t hit me as well. It was creepy seeing the body move without the head but that didn’t stop the guy from grabbing it’s neck and throwing it into a steaming pot of water. He stirred the whole bird (sans head) around with a large wooden spoon to loosen the feathers. After soaking the bird for 30 seconds, he pulled it out of the pot and threw it to another guy who began stripping it of its feathers. I was surprised at how quickly the feathers came out after soaking it. I had to give the guy credit, he de-feathered the chicken in 5 seconds time…no joke. The last guy was waiting for our prized hen, and when he got it in his hands, he showed that bird who was boss. He had the stomach and guts emptied from the chicken in no time and suddenly it was back in my hands once again; this time, in different form.

It was an experience. A true African experience. I am not currently a vegetarian, but after witnessing the kill, it made me want to reconsider.