Frugal by nature, coupons have received an unfair reputation in the grocery world, and in the same breath, Couponers have equally been cut. Despite society’s fascination with this niche culture, the c-word connotes negative associations for, truthfully, healthy and realistic views on budgeting. Those liberal with their cash and enjoy paying full price for already hiked-up grocery items don the act of shelling out money as a badge of honor. Have we all just assumed that grocery stores are pricing things for our benefit?
It seems we’ve developed a cultural disdain for saving money on necessities. But why? When did being financially responsible become taboo? While designer coffee shops charge $7 for a latte without batting an eye, somehow saving $2 on premium ingredients warrants sideways glances and hushed judgments.
You would think that those who coupon also plan shopping excursions, and therefore meals, to a fine scissor’s-point. And maybe you would be right, but if I’m thrown in with that lot, my habit would skew the whole statistic. As of late, in my household, meal planning has glacially joined the extinction horde. Each meal is planned on a whim and prepared in a hurry. Time seems to be pulling one over on me and has exponentially shortened my attention span and simplified my meals. Therefore, I have allowed the monthly reoccurring Metropolitan Market exclusive deals (coupons mailed directly for 4 monthly deals) to dictate my meals; (I am not affiliated with the aforementioned store, brand, organization). The coupons have forced my wandering creativity into a singular direction. Each exclusive deal is focused on one food item and streamlines my attention into one specific ingredient. It’s the focused coupon for the entirely unfocused Couponer.
Speaking of unfocused, in this meandering missive, the word coupon has been used as a noun, proper and otherwise, and as a verb. Versatile in its usage and in this chapter, the word coupon has quite a roundabout etymological origin story.
The word coupon originates from the Greek word kolaphos which means a blow, buffet, punch, and/or slap, most likely used on the wrestling stages of the first Olympic games, spoken by those athletically-superior, Greek demi-gods of old, [sigh].The word rambled through Latin and French, at some point metamorphosing from a blow to a cut, and now everyone and their mother throws a coupon around without injury. Coupon, meaning a piece cut off from something, a literal coupon cut from a local newspaper or a piece of the price cut from your grocery total. And coupon: a piece that can be cut from a bond and presented as payment for something else; paper used to pay in exchange for something else. The real question is: Paper or Plastic? Paper coupons or plastic credit cards, you decide.
You might recognize the root, coup, in the word coupon. Coup meaning a sudden decisive act and a shortened version of the phrase coup d’etat, which means a stroke of state, often associated with political uprisings and revolutionary acts. Can you guess, a coup on whom? Infamously, in France there was that coup d’etat where the people cut the royal family from power and may have cut a few heads off in the process, yet strangely was not the coup de grâce for the royal French family.
Speaking of the French empire and their love of power, in the 19th century, France’s influence engulfed the southernmost tip of Southeast Asia. One of those regions, modern-day Vietnam, received an unwanted dose of French culture. Not disregarding past hardships, present-day tastebuds appreciate and thank the legacy of French influence in modern Vietnamese cuisine.
Think of the Banh Mi, a fresh baked French baguette, dripping umami lemongrass marinated grilled meat, schmeared with pâté, layered with pickled vegetables, and sprinkled with local spicy chilis & peppers. It’s difficult to think of a more quintessentially French-Vietnamese fusion meal. Lemongrass is not only widely used in Southeast Asian cuisine but is also chock-full of vitamins and beneficial to one’s health. For a moment, let’s focus on the lemongrass-marinated meat from the sandwich and figuratively place it atop a vermicelli bowl.
The vermicelli bowl, a rice noodle bowl and not specifically Vietnamese in origin, borrows its name from an Italian egg noodle, (cousins with the spaghetti noodle and actually means little worm, but I digress). I believe it was named Vermicelli bowl because the average inarticulate person cannot pronounce its true name. I assume attempting to pronounce the dish’s actual Vietnamese name exasperated one too many Vietnamese restauranteurs, they understandably adopted the new dish title because they heard their beautiful language foolishly butchered over and over too many times.
No, but really, the name of the dish differs depending on the region and meat used, but I believe this one is properly titled, “Bún Bò Xào”, but I’m not even going to feign to be a polyglot. The mystery-shrouded origin of the vermicelli bowl should make you question the idea that any one food has origins from just one place. Globalization has been rampant since the advent of colonization. Therefore, a Vietnamese Vermicelli bowl, is not just one thing, it is a bowl of noodles beautifully complex in history.
The following recipe was inspired and adapted from NYT Cooking’s Vietnamese Lemongrass Beef and Noodle Salad, (I am not affiliated with the aforementioned website, brand, or recipe). Most likely named that ridiculously long-winded title for all you laymen, just learn some Vietnamese already, you uncultured swine. The proper name being “Bún Bò Xào,” I understand that this title refers to grilled pork vermicelli bowls, however, I do believe I can apply the title to a grilled beef vermicelli bowl, but please let me know if I am wrong.
You probably were expecting a Steak & Potato cliche dish because of the steak coupon; but we’re all about puns and búns in here. I mean, I do have a stake in what recipe stays and leaves [Cue laughter].
I planned my grocery shopping excursion for the last day of this weeklong deal, yes I’m a natural-born procrastinator and I already mentioned doing things on the fly. As with most recipes, I usually write down the ingredients and then disregard all the rest of the instructions, apparently, I believe I have some kind of god-given, omniscient-anointed, talent that dictates what I do in the kitchen. There’s no rhyme or reason, but if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Morning of, while I was sipping on my coffee, cozy in my pajamas, I fried up some shallots. The recipe calls for a batch of Crispy Fried Shallots (I am not affiliated with the aforementioned website, brand, or recipe), courtesy again of the mastermind behind the parent dish. In a small sauce pan, I poured in a generous amount of vegetable oil, chopped up a shallot (I only had one in my vegetable bowl, so one it was). On medium heat, I stirred the oil and shallots until the shallots began to develop a flattering brown shade, then removed from oil onto a paper-toweled flatware. Season with a bit of salt, scoop into some tupperware (or something with a lid), and store on your counter until needed. A surprisingly, agreeable tang for first-light, deep frying onions in the wee hours might become a pleasurable pastime of mine, although I belatedly realize that I was wearing a peculiar eau d’ognion scent for the rest of the day. And I had a craving for French Onion Soup thereafter. Regardless, fried onions will become a static fixture upon my countertops, onion-haters be warned. Bonus: the vegetable oil, used to fry up those onions, can be used in this recipe or saved for future recipes.
As I believe I have mentioned many times now, it was steak coupon week: Buy one get one, Top Sirloin Steak, for free. However, you can use whatever kind of steak tickles your fancy. Cruising through the grocery store aisles, I scooped up the steak (that would have been ridiculous if I forgot the actual focal element) and the many fresh ingredients for the dinner. When I say cruise, I mean speed, like driving 20 over the speed-limit kind of speeding. My zen place is most definitely not the grocery store; Led Zeppelin’s “Achilles Last Stand”, musically and historically, outlasts my time spent in any grocery store.
First and foremost, I marinated the meat. That all important steak that we’ve been talking about for a while now should marinate in garlic, ginger, fish sauce, rice vinegar, brown sugar, salt, white pepper, and lime. I diverged from the recipe a bit, but it worked in my favor, yet again. Unfortunately, I decided to marinate my meat in a large bowl, when I probably should have used a lidded container. The marinade was uneven and I had to constantly keep flipping over the slabs of meat to coat each side as evenly as I could, it was a complete nuisance and I’ll probably make that mistake again, c’est la vie.
I preheated my oven to 425°F, I actually am not quite sure why I chose this number — as you know, to me, recipe steps are just broad recommendations. Well in that randomly chosen preheated oven, I roasted peanuts, I roasted them only until I could JUST begin to smell them, about 10 minutes, of course, since I wasn’t watching a clock and I didn’t set a timer, it easily could have been 5 minutes or 25 minutes, your nose is timer enough. Meanwhile, chop up those vegetables. Or I mean coup those vegetables. Lettuce heads, cucumbers, and carrots, oh my. I kept the vegetables raw even though I know that traditionally some vegetables are pickled for this dish, but again, to each their own. I boiled the noodles, ironically I couldn’t find the correct noodle traditionally used for vermicelli bowls, so I used another type of rice noodle or bún noodle, and it sufficed.
Mince and mix the elements for the nuoc cham-esque sauce, the usual fish sauce, sugar, vinegar, garlic, water, and lime. The recipe asks that you also add some ginger, which I can say that I am not against, but I forgot to buy. In lieu of a traditional bird’s eye chili used in nuoc cham, I used what I had in the refrigerator—a fresh little jalapeño. A dash of this, and dabble of that, and then I sliced up some more of the lemongrass to let it stew in the sauce until serving. The lemongrass added another layer to the sauce and enhanced the already commanding lemongrass flavor in the steak marinade. The nuoc cham if not exactly identical to the traditional was practically the same mixture of ingredients.
Remember when we marinated the meat, well now is the time to sear it. Sear the whole steak in a pan of your choosing. Once all of the sides are properly browned, remove from the heat for a momentary rest. I then sliced the steak and replaced it back onto the heat. To avoid wasting, (as I always try to and hopefully prevail at), I poured the rest of the marinade atop the sliced steak in the pan.
Medium rare is what we are searching for people. We must strive for medium rare and we must at all costs try to avoid well-done.
Concurrently, I coup-ed the herbage. Thanks to my miniature herb-garden that’s perched upon my porch steps, I could supply the dish with fresh mint (of course some french mint), green onions, Thai basil (I only have the one kind, not of the Thai variety), and parsley (flat-leafed). Necessity required me to buy a bunch of fresh cilantro, but that never goes to waste in my kitchen.
Semi-Pro Tip: Once cut, place your herbs in a jar or vase, either set it upon your kitchen window-sill or on a shelf in your refrigerator, and fill the container with water for a longer and fresher lifespan.
In a large bowl, (I’m not kidding, if you think the bowl is large enough, go larger) layer your noodles, lettuce, vegetables (including the bean sprouts which I have neglected to mention thus far), meat, peanuts, fried shallots, and sprinkle with all those fragrant herbs. Drizzle a bit of the nuoc cham-esque sauce atop each individual bowl, (careful with the proportions, you can always add more), and voilà! Please ditch the fork for this meal, chopsticks are a requirement.
Edible Elements
- Steak – you already know, but you can use whatever steak floats your boat
- Rice Vinegar
- Light Brown Sugar – or brown, just taste as you go as to not go overboard with the sweetness level
- Lemongrass
- Salt & White Pepper
- Fish Sauce – red boat, the finest, I must gloat though I am not affiliated with this brand in any way
- Garlic
- Ginger
- Red Lettuce
- Romaine Lettuce
- Rice Noodles – this was difficult to find, an Asian market is not located near enough to me to make it a regular grocery stop
- Cucumbers
- Carrots
- Bean Sprouts
- Green Onion
- Basil – I only have one type
- Mint – a sprig of peppermint and a few french mint sprigs
- Parsley – flat-leafed
- Cilantro – SILL – AWN – TRO not SILL – AN – TRO
- Peanuts – roast them yourself or buy them pre-roasted, a pleasant side-effect of roasting them yourself is that your house smells like that day at the fair from your childhood
- Crispy Fried Shallots
- Vegetable Oil
Nuoc Cham-esque Sauce
- Fish Sauce
- Light Brown Sugar
- Rice Vinegar
- Salt & White Pepper
- Garlic – minced
- Ginger – peeled and minced
- Lemongrass – chunked, floating and infusing the dipping sauce
- Sambal Olek – red chile paste that sits in my fridge when something needs a spicy kick
- Water
- Jalapeño
If you’re lucky like me, you’ll have leftovers, of well, everything. I cook for an army, what army I couldn’t tell you, shoes and guns aren’t allowed in my house. Make love, not war. Too many young men didn’t return home from Vietnam to become Veterans.
With all those leftovers you didn’t eat, consider feeding those less fortunate in your community. Prepare a meal for your midweek lunch and pack another gourmet lunch to give to the next houseless person you see. You never know, that houseless person could be a veteran, a veteran that the American system failed. Steak coupon dinner and a lunch bowl for your homeless neighbor, what a deal!
Get off your aristocratic ass and use those coupons. You don’t want to be vilified as a paper-waster in addition to a money-waster, and if you ignore this message, you’re probably a toilet paper-waster as well. Save the Trees. Peace & Love and all that jazz.
So in short, Coup•on – to cut into pieces, (be it a head of lettuce or a French royal), and a two for one from Metropolitan Market.
Bon appétit my fellow epicures!
Citations
“Coup”, Online Etymology Dictionary. May 24, 2021. https://www.etymonline.com/word/coup
“Coupon”, Online Etymology Dictionary. May 24, 2021. https://www.etymonline.com/word/coupon
Tanis, David. “David’s Tanis’s Crispy Fried Shallots Recipe”, NYT Cooking. May 22, 2021. https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1016022-david-taniss-crispy-fried-shallots
Tanis, David. “Vietnamese Lemongrass Beef and Noodle Salad”, NYT Cooking. May 22, 2021. https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1016865-vietnamese-lemongrass-beef-and-noodle-salad
Edible Memoir 
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