Everything, but the frog!

On our lovely weekend trip to the sandy beaches in Southern Vietnam (Nha Trang) the girls and I decided to be adventurous and sign up for a cooking class. It was Saturday afternoon and given the weather’s caprices, we thought that an activity such as a class could entertain us in attendance of bluer skies. We paid a deposit and were told to show up at 9am the next morning.

Nha Trang's sandy beach

We awoke to a beautifully sunny day but headed to the class anyway. We calculated that after lunch we would certainly need a siesta, and what’s better than an after-lunch siesta on a beautiful sandy beach?

Our cooking teacher, Nam, introduced herself and announced the class schedule. We were all to hop into the bicycle taxis and go to the market to buy the necessary products for our meal. We would start with an entrée of fresh spring rolls followed by a main course of fish cooked in a clay pot (chicken or beef for those that didn’t like fish), wrapping it all up with a simply delicious fruit flambé (pineapple, banana or mango).

The ride to the market was pleasantly relaxing. I was trying to imagine the feel of Vietnam 15 years ago when the streets were strictly ruled by bicycles, no cars or motorbikes in sight. I was reminiscing of a Vietnam that I had never experienced, and probably never would, where the pace of living was in perfect harmony with the humid heat and where the only sounds in the streets were people chatting in the Bia Hoi (Vietnamese draft beer joints with local food) or kids playing on the roads. It was a soothing thought.

Homemade springrolls

At our arrival at the market, the first stop was the vegetable stand. Nam showed us how to best pick a carrot and how to bargain for a fair price. We then moved to the fish stand to purchase some mackerel. The selection was large and a number of fish were still alive, helplessly attempting to wiggle their way into buckets half their size. Next to them were large crabs clamping their claws, but each one was tied to in a separate string and piled upside down.

Not far from the fish stand was a lady crouched on the floor, with a plateau packed with large green frogs. Each frog had a little string tied around its waist which was, in turn, tied to the rest of the group. Nam asked who would like to have a frog for lunch. We all stood there, immobile and hesitating. We were afraid to answer as it was unclear what would happen should we respond affirmatively. Nam took the initiative and ordered one frog. (What comes next is not for those with a sensitive stomach…)

Frog being weighed

The lady gleefully picked a frog from the bunch and cut the string. She pulled out a knife and sliced the frog’s belly. She then proceeded to rip the skin off in one swift movement, and dropped it in a bucket. The frog was frenetically jerking its legs, hoping to escape with the little of him he had left. But the lady quickly pulled out a large pair of scissors and chopped its head off in one loud “chiack!”. A girl in the group screeched and hid behind the group. The lady dropped the frog’s carcass (which was still twitching) into the scale, weighed it, charged Nam and neatly packed it into a small plastic bag. When handing the merchandise over to Nam, you could still see the bag moving.

By 2 o’clock we were all replete and looking forward to our lazy afternoon under the sun. We were now proud cooks planning our next homemade meal... excluding the frog.