Bún bò xả ớt is an iconic Vietnamese lemongrass chili beef. Sweet, smoky, delicious, and traditionally served up with rice, noodles, or in salad rolls.
It’s a story but it’s not long
Long ago my grandmother took me to the farmer’s market and shared this recipe with me…just kidding.
But, not really. My family is from the deep, deep countryside of Vietnam – a tiny fishing village along the coast where no tourists ever visited. My mom kept baby ducks and baby pigs as pets and forebade my grandma from killing them for dinner. Like in France and anywhere else, countryside-folk and seaside-folk take food far more seriously than city-dwellers do.
In her part of the world, my mom is famous for this dish. When she was younger, it’s what she would make for dinner parties and celebrations. A few years back, she visited some old friends in Melbourne. They invited a large bunch of people who all came from the same little village, and, you guessed it, asked her to make it for them.
Steph doesn’t really know it, but it was even a housewarming gift my mom gave us when we moved in together: a 5lb brick of the chicken version of this stuff to be kept in the freezer and made as-needed. Steph always asked for more, but it never happened because my mom essentially retired from cooking.
This specific lemongrass beef recipe
I would love to say that this recipe came from my mom, but it would only be a half-truth. When I was younger, I asked her how to make this and got the usual “a little of this and a little of that.” I’ve since refined it into the recipe below over the years. It’s informed and inspired by the taste of my mom’s version, and tastes very similar, but modernized. Honestly, I like my version better for its ease, simplicity, and reproducibility by anyone-ness. My mom’s version will always be nostalgic for me, but this new version is my go-to. Although, maybe it’s time to invite my parents over for lunch with a big case of out-of-retirement pre-marinated meat and experience the nostalgia all over again.
Note: this recipe is for the vermicelli noodle bowl version because that’s how people know it, but my family would just family-style all the components around a tabletop grill and roll everything into salad rolls at the table.
What is bò xả ớt?
Bò xả ớt means beef with lemongrass and chili. It’s a favorite dish in Vietnam and increasingly famous in the rest of the world. It’s charred, smoky, lemongrassy, sweet, and slightly spicy beef, usually served as part of a vermicelli bowl or in a rice plate, or as the central protein of a salad roll party, although that’s usually more done at home. If you can find the DIY salad roll version in a restaurant, you’ve struck gold.
What cut of beef should you use for lemongrass beef?
The best cut of beef for bò xả ớt is a bit of a contentious debate. My mom would say triple AAA USDA prime ribeye. The internet says flank or skirt steak. I say, you are overcooking the heck out of this, it won’t matter. Get the cheapest steak you would like to get.
Chill your beef thoroughly before slicing, and don’t be afraid to pop it back in halfway through if it gets warm. You want fairly thin slices, 1/8″ or less. If you are buying from a butcher or a good grocery store with a meat department, they might do it for you.
Grilling vs Frying
In much of Vietnam, the correct way to cook any meat is grilled over hot coals, or these days, gas. I agree. If you can be bothered to turn on the bbq, you should do so. If you have a tabletop grill, these also produce excellent results (and is how we eat it when we have dinner with my parents on their deck).
But, I’ve also tried frying it literally every way: in cast iron, in stainless steel, in nonstick, and in a wok, and I can confidently say some of the easiest and best results come surprisingly from nonstick. The charring you see in these photos come from a nonstick-except the one below, which is cast iron.
Mortar and Pestle
If you have the equipment and willingness, a mortar and pestle goes a long way towards authenticity, both to the Vietnamese-ness of this recipe and to the countryside-ness of it too. Chopping doesn’t release the flavors and juices the way a good crushing in a mortar and pestle does. It’s completely optional, and you can just chop away, but to me, the mortar and pestle makes all the difference.
Spice level
One of the words in the name of this dish means ‘chili’. Even in Vietnam, central Vietnam is known for some super spicy food. But it doesn’t need to be super spicy if you don’t want to fry your tongue. I’ve given the appropriate amounts in Thai chili to make this a pleasant amount of spiciness (my mom’s version would have 4x as many chilies), but if you don’t like spice, swap the Thai chilies out for another red chili of choice, including bell peppers if that is what you like.
I hope you try this dish, it’s one of my personal soul food meals. If you like it, please share it widely, because there are some truly terrible versions floating around the internet, though I’m sure that’s the case for any cuisine.
—lemongrass is my drug of choice Mike
