Vietnamese savory pancake (Banh Xeo) on a rainy day.

It was raining outside again. In that chilly, damp atmosphere, memories flooded back, bringing with them smells. It was the smell of the old kitchen, the smell of smoke, and the smell of... Vietnamese savory pancakes.

I remember my mother's old kitchen. A small, smoky kitchen, its walls blackened by years of burning wood. On rainy days, when the cold seeped through the cracks in the door, that was when the kitchen became the warmest place. My mother and sisters would busy themselves by the glowing charcoal stove, next to a basin of rice flour mixed with a little turmeric for a yellow color, and sprinkled with the green of chopped chives. Beside them were bean sprouts and finely chopped scallion heads, sometimes replaced with shredded jicama.

And then, the alluring "sizzling... sizzling..." sound rang out.

These golden, crispy pancakes are incredibly appealing on rainy days.

It was the sound of my mother scooping a spoonful of batter and pouring it into a small, hot cast-iron (or thick iron) mold with a piece of fatty meat or a little peanut oil or coconut oil. That sizzling sound, to me, was even more joyful than the sound of the rain outside.

Unlike the large, thinly-pan-cooked pancakes of Southern Vietnam, Central Vietnamese pancakes are small and fit perfectly in the palm of your hand. This perfectly reflects the meticulous, careful yet incredibly flavorful nature of the people of Central Vietnam. The dipping sauce must be pure, high-quality fish sauce or a fermented fish paste made with crushed chili, garlic, lime, and sugar, blended with the fragrant aroma of oil and fat that fills the air.

The rainy season also brings special produce. I remember early mornings, my father putting on his straw hat and going to the garden and fields, and the treats he brought back were plump, sweet, and crunchy sun mushrooms (the people of the Nẫu region call them "phan mushrooms," a type of mushroom that only grows from the ground after the first few rains of the season, with a sweet and crisp taste) and fragrant jasmine flowers. Sometimes, when he went down to the deep rice paddies, he'd bring back a bunch of fresh, still-splitting freshwater shrimp. And sometimes, my mother's market would bring back a handful of tiny squid, no bigger than a finger…

All the bounty of the fields, the sea, and the sky on that rainy day blend together in the rice pancake... Sometimes, a poor village kitchen might only have a simple rice pancake, just flour, oil, and lard, without any fillings, yet it's still a culinary masterpiece!

My mother skillfully covered the pan, the sizzling sound gradually fading, giving way to a rich aroma. My siblings and I sat around the fire, our eyes glued to my mother's hands. And when the first golden-brown, crispy pancake was taken out, we smacked our lips and inhaled deeply.

Vietnamese savory pancakes (Bánh xèo) are best eaten hot. Eating them right out of the pan, while the steam is still rising, even fresh from the stove, is a delightful experience.

The chill of the rain was dispelled by the warm, comforting sounds of eating. The whole family gathered around, savoring the meal, laughing and chatting merrily. The hot pancake on a rainy day not only warmed their hungry stomachs, it warmed their souls. It was a simple yet enduring bond of love.

That's what Vietnamese savory pancakes used to be like. They were a dish of anticipation, of gathering around the fire.

Nowadays, banh xeo (Vietnamese savory pancake) has become a popular dish. People can eat banh xeo anytime, anywhere. From street stalls to fancy restaurants, there are all kinds: Saigon-style banh xeo, Mekong Delta-style banh xeo, shrimp banh xeo, etc., and the fillings are also more diverse. People cook the pancakes using gas or electric stoves, which is quick and convenient.

Convenience sometimes makes us feel nostalgic.

This afternoon, it's raining again. My colleagues and I gathered at the makeshift kitchen behind the office to make Vietnamese savory pancakes (banh xeo), because some friends brought shrimp and squid from the coast to the mountain town. Being away on business, I suddenly had a strong craving for a banh xeo on a rainy day. I craved it not only for its crispy, rich flavor, but also for the warm, cozy atmosphere of a rainy day.

Culinary culture isn't something far away; it's right in the kitchen of every family. Preserving and promoting cultural identity doesn't always have to be anything grand. It could simply be, on a rainy day, instead of ordering fast food, taking the time to cook and gather family or friends together.

And then, the sizzling sound echoes again, carrying with it a whole stream of memories, and in this way, love and culture are always preserved, warm and intact, like a hot pancake on a rainy day...

Source: https://baodaklak.vn/van-hoa-du-lich-van-hoc-nghe-thuat/202511/banh-xeo-ngay-mua-3be17b1/