Our special Mam Ruoc was sneaked in all the way from My Tho, Viet Nam. It was covered with layers of plastic bags and packed inside a jar to keep the odor away from airport securities. It’s not a big deal, but we don’t want them to gag. The scent of Mam Ruoc is not pleasurable. Even our aunt would not let us prepare our savory Mam Ruoc Xao Xa Ot inside her house. We had to cook outside in the cold and, at the same time, hoped her neighbors would not scold us.

To get the best out of Mam Ruoc, mix with lemon grass, sugar, garlic, chilly, vinegar, and whatever seasonings were needed to smooth out the flavor. Pre-fry the bacon (thit ba roi), pour in the blended Mam Ruoc, stir well, and ready to serve.

All you need is a crusty cucumber to go with Mam Ruoc Xao Xa Ot. Remember, go easy on the Mam Ruoc, a tiny bit at a time, or else you’ll be drinking water all day. Even on a cold snowy day, the tang of Mam Ruoc Xao Xa Ot makes me feel nostalgic.

In an interview with VN Style, songwriter Le Minh Son says, “Tung Duong has a masculine, passionate voice that sets him apart because many of his male peers sing like women. I can’t listen to them.” He makes a legitimate point. These days, Vietnamese male pop stars either sound feminine or sound like Tuan Ngoc. With disappointments, I have not been motivated to explore the recent crop until I encountered Tung Duong’s voice, an eccentric fusion of tenor and baritone. Although Duong is fresh on the scene, he comes across like a mature musician with a splendid technique and a fluid style all his own, and his debut Chay Tron, which featured seven songs written by Le Minh Son, proves it.

The title track “Chay Tron” is evidence of Duong’s jazz knowledge. He knows how to curl his voice around the smoky, elegant jazz phrases despite the sudden high tunes in Le Minh Son’s music. His wordless performance is also a phenomenon. His languorous voice and Trung Dong’s wistful trumpet weave in and out of one another, as if completing one another’s thoughts, sharing one another’s soul. Together they have created an exquisite harmony.

“Trang Khat” is a silky-smooth blues groove in which Duong’s powerful voice is complemented by Son’s intricate finger-picking guitar playing and rich composition style. Duong’s taste and understanding of jazz is proven through the weight he drops on each note and each rest over a hypnotic riff. Alongside Son’s guitar, Tran Manh Hung’s piano performance is a sensation. His fingers, which fall smoothly on the keys, create an irresistible tune.

Chay Tron, which means escape, is a perfect title because the album comes through with various shapes and sounds to provide listeners with pure escapisms. “Trang Khuyet” offers an experience that is reflectively modern and at the same time old-fashioned by the concoction of jazz and folk. On “Lua Mat Em,” the mid-tempo groove along with Duong’s skillful rendition produces an exceptional synthesis of pop and jazz. The album-closer “Oi Que Toi” breaks free from the folk traditional and takes listeners into an atmospheric ballad; however, the contemporary folk style from Thanh Lam’s version seems to work better.

Tung Duong shows tremendous potential as a young musician. He harnesses his intensity and virtuosity to create a stunning, rich in detail, and cohesive first album. He has chosen the right music for his voice. If there were one thing he needs to improve from this album, it would be his heavy breathing.

Shortly after ruling out her competitors in Sao Mai-Diem Hen (Morning Star – Rendezvous), Pham Ngoc Khue drops her debut Ben Bo Ao Nha Minh (By Our Pond), a collaboration with her musical mentor Le Minh Son who is a renowned songwriter in Viet Nam. Unlike many new faces who “take the shortcut to fame by performing pop ballads,” as Khue said during her interview with Viet Nam News, she has established herself as an exciting new voice among her peers by performing contemporary folk songs with her strange but striking style. Her rare vocals, along with her bizarre delivery, produce some of the weirdest tunes I have ever heard since Ha Tran’s Nhat Thuc (Solar Eclipse).

The first time I listen to Ngoc Khue’s performance of “Chuon Chuon Ot” (Red Dragonfly) on Sao Mai Diem Hen, she sounds a like twelve years-old girl with an incredibly annoying voice wheezing her way through the song. How the heck did she win Sao Mai-Diem Hen? After listening to the whole album, I finally figured it out. Her voice is a marvel: smooth, sweet, breathy, and smoky at once, and she flips her flows constantly. On “Gio Mua Ve” (The Windy Season Returns), Khue pours her voice into the notes until they overflow. Her northern accent near the end is the most eccentric reading I have heard, although I can hardly make out what she says. “Cap Ba La” is a contemporary folk song that I can snap my fingers and tap my feet to. Khue’s bashful and playful delivery, especially the way she flirts “la lam, ngai lam” (too strange, too shy), is irresistible.

Both the title track “Ben Bo Ao Nha Minh” (By Our Pond) and the remix version of Bac Ninh’s “Ngoi Tua Man Thien” (Sit By the Boat) are invigorating because Khue relaxes into Le Minh Son’s gorgeous arrangements. Unfortunately, her lack of breath control keeps these tracks from being perfect. “Nguoi O, Nguoi Ve” (One Stays, One Returns) is a good example for observing the difference between a new (Ngoc Khue) and an experienced (Thanh Lam) singer. While Lam is breathless, Khue is gasping for air. Khue is an excellent musician with a very unique style, but Lam is untouchable. For instance, Khue’s performance of “Da Trong Chong” (Turned to Stone) is wicked, but Lam’s powerful interpretation is murderous. I like both versions, but if I have to vote for one. I must go with Lam. She has found her way into the composition.

Despite her inexperienced vocal skills and being overshadowed by Thanh Lam, Ngoc Khue has crafted an exquisite first album. She has made the right decision by not choosing popular songs to get her name out. It might be quickest way to fame, but also the fastest way to be forgotten in the game. Khue seduces her fans by using the smartest strategy: allowing the music to grow on listeners instead of letting music wear them out.

Denise Nguyen at Nguoi Viet Online 2 covered an inspiring story on the young and intelligent Vietnamese-American newscaster Leyna Nguyen. If you follow the article, “Anchoring Herself in the Community,” all the way through, notice the paragraph before the ending reads:

“She shows the importance of going back to your roots and to know who you are in order to succeed. And she is a successful woman,” said Donny Truong, a Website designer at Vassar College who manages the popular site for young Vietnamese Americans, www.visualgui.com, where visitors have posted 100 comments on Nguyen and Asia 43. “Not too many Vietnamese people make it to the mainstream media, and she did.”

I didn’t realize that the comment form was not working. No wonder the site has been so quiet for the past couple of days. The form is fixed now so get your comments on.

I am impressed with Aimee Phan‘s writing. Her debut fiction collection, We Should Never Meet, which featured stories that are told with cinematic scope, leads readers back to the Viet Nam War period and lets them witness those forgotten victims who were the products of the war. Phan’s tightly crafted style allows her individual characters to create a coherent experience.

The book opens with a birth-delivering scene in Viet Nam, and then flashes back to the mother’s childhood, where Miss Lien (the young mother) used to play with her siblings on the family’s rice paddy. Phan jumps back and forth between the present and the past, but still manages to retain her readers’ attention through her simple and accessible writing. From the beautiful rice field to the midwife’s black-lacquered teeth, she effortlessly permits her descriptive style to come to live. As someone who was born and raised in My Tho, which is near the Mekong Delta, the first story, “Miss Lien,” is like a trip down memory lane for me.

In the next story, “We Should Never Meet,” Phan flies us to Los Angeles to introduce Kim, a con lai (Amerasian) orphan who is struggling financially to move out of Vinh’s place. Vinh is her ex-boyfriend, who is also an orphan, and a member of a small Vietnamese gang in Little Saigon. From one story to the next, Phan alternates her settings from Viet Nam to America, but her language is constructed in a clever way that each episode could be read alone or interlaced with one another.

Phan’s technique of telling a story out of sequence is both intricate and innovative. Her skills lie in the subtlety of the connectivity and the ability to flow from one scene to the next. She gets me scratching my head on how I should tell the stories if I were the writer. Should I start off with “Emancipation” where Mai graduates from high school, then move to her best friend Kim (“We Should Never Meet”), and then switch to her nemesis Vinh (“Visitors”)? After the American scenes, should I take readers back to Viet Nam into the “Gate of Saigon,” then to “The Delta,” and so on? That sounds like fun. I should do it when I have completely forgotten about the book, but to erase these unforgettable stories would take me at least ten years.

Hey ma! Nice use of background image. The poached fruits over vanilla ice cream on the Martini glass looks delicious. Wait a minute, that picture looks familiar. Didn’t I snap that photo? It’s all good!

While we’re on food topic, Sasha made a savory, sweet, and tart truffle. Her written up along with the photos make me craving for some sweets.

I am so in need of a hot bowl Bun Goi Gia (Vermicelli with Tamarind Broth) right now. Mom, where are you at?

If you don’t think school can be distracting, listen to an interview with the “Rapper, Producer, Composer: The RZA” on Fresh Air. At the age of fourteen, RZA sat in class and dreamed of screwing his teacher. I was as guilty as charged. At that age, I could not speak a word of English; therefore, listening to a lecture was meaningless. So I had no choice but to entertain my mind.

Greg Tate’s “MCs Are Paid, Not Born” drops some heavy-handed criticisms on the Game and his debut The Documentary.

I thought Kristine Sa’s reBIRTH was bad. J. Lo’s Rebirth is even worst.

Everything Tori has a beautiful design and tableless layout. The elegance use of colors fit Tori Amos style.

CSS Reboot on May 1st, anyone?

Fifteen years ago, a movie theater in My Tho, Viet Nam was consisted of wooden benches, a 13″ TV and a VCR. At that time, Chinese TV series took over the Viet Nam entertainment. Despite the ghetto style, the theater was always packed. On the inside, the place was filled with audiences. On the outside, it was filled with peepers, including myself. The art of watching a film through a crack with one eye was an interesting experience. I could not afford the tickets, and my parents also banned me from watching the addictive Chinese TV series because I was not concentrating on my schoolwork.

As a peeper, I could not watch a film in peace. I had to look out for securities at the same time. Although I was a fast runner, I was caught many times because I was drawn into the fighting scenes and forgot to pay attention. One of my favorite series was Han So Tranh Hung, which based on a legendary historical era at the end of the “Tan” Dynasty where rivals fought to be in power. Names like Luu Bang, Hang Vu, Han Tin, and Truong Luong are still puzzled in my head because I was not sure who was who. Watching a film through a hole and on the run was not helping at all.

Recently, I come across Han So Ba Vuong (The Conqueror’s Story), which also based on the same tale as Han So Tranh Hung. The new series is fresher with magnificent actors including Trinh Thieu Thu (Luu Bang), Giang Hoa (Hang Vu), and Truong Kha Di (Lu Chi). The film has cleared up much confusion I had fifteen years ago. I am now understand each legend and his or her role.

Luu Bang was uneducated, horny, and afraid of death; however, his caring, loving, and devoting characters gained him respect from the people, and they would do anything for him. Luu Bang is played by Trinh Thieu Thu who captured those characters through his skillful fluctuating acting. He is an actor that could go deep inside his role.

On the flip side, Hang Vu was an educated man, enthusiastic monogamist, and an undefeatable commander in battle. Unfortunately his flaming temper and frankness turned many people away from him. Giang Hoa is an actor that is always appear to be cool even under pressure, yet he gave a powerful performance as Hang Vu, who is heartless on the outside, but full of emotion on the inside.

Lu Chi was a woman who had high ambitions. Her goal was to help her husband conquered China and she accomplished it with Luu Bang, who had no talent at all. Her mesmerizing beauty combines with her intelligent mind made her one of the most dangerous women of her time, and Truong Kha Di’s expressive performance captured the essence of those characteristics exquisitely.

The film features a handful of eminent roles such as Truong Luong, Han Tinh, Ngu Co. With a fascinating storyline, incredible performances, and excellent artistic visions (custom design, cinematography, and choreography), Han So Ba Vuong is worth watching. Although the series is long, the pace is moving along smoothly. The film took me a whole weekend to finish, but I am glad it is not a waste of time.

Please not: The Conqueror’s Story is a Chinese TV series, but I write all the names in Vietnamese.

Four years ago on this day, Ngoc Lan left this world. She is in a better place now, but we still miss her dearly. A new theme (bliss) was designed to honor our beloved singer. Ngoc Lan will always be remembered!

50 Cent has been acting crazy lately, and he gets worse when his sophomore album, The Massacre, is about to drop. He is not only beefing with other rappers, but also with his own man, the Game, as well. Because of the pressures he is facing with, his paranoia is explainable. If I were in his position, I would feel the same. Two years ago, he was on top of the game. His debut Get Rich or Die Tryin’ sold eleven million copies. When an artist sells that much, the expectation is much higher. Can 50 live up to it?

The good news is The Massacre has plenty of hot beats for 50 to ride on. From the delightful jazz groove (“In My Hood”) to the clubbing Indian-inflected (“Just a Lil Bit”), he spins on these beats as smooth as the chrome rims on his Benz. Like his mentor Eminem, he sings almost all the hooks (twenty out of twenty-two tracks). Unlike Em, however, he sounds more matured and professional. His thick and slightly raucous voice helps tremendously. His delivery is both effortless and intricacy. His flow is as passionate as the song requires, and his style is switching on nearly every track. The collaboration with Em on “Gatman and Robbin'” is a delicious duo. They fashioned an artfully constructed style that has not been heard before.

Although the beat, flow, and delivery are exceptional, the missing piece of the puzzle is the lyrical content, which is as dried as the desert. When he is not foul mouthing on Nas, Fat Joe, Shyne, and Jadakiss (“Piggy Bank”), he either swaggers on his gangsta life (“I am suppose to Die Tonight”) or disrespects women (“Get in My Car”). After spitting on girls, he makes a three-point-turn and rhymes his sweet thugging heart out on “A Baltimore Love Thing,” where he spits “Girl, I’m missing you, come and see me soon / Tie your arm up, put that lighter under that spoon / Now put that needle to your arm princess, stick it in.” Unfortunately, only a few good lines like that come through on the album. In addition, he recycles same words over and over again. How many times does he say the word “Teflon” and “hollow tips?”

50 Cent probably did not want to, but he set standards so high that he himself can’t reach, and he knows it. Even though he hides it by sounding like not breaking a sweat on the tracks, his forceful laughter shows it all. The Massacre may not be able to break through eleven million, but the clubbing beats and the playful performance will guarantee the platinum numbers. The weight is heavy, but at least he takes it off his shoulders.