Flavor Boulevard

If you just want to enjoy a piece of sweet flaky mooncake, Vietnamese sandwich stores and bakeries are the place to go. If you have plenty of time at hand and little trust for unknown kitchens, then hit the market to find these ingredients for a batch of 12 bánh bía:

1. The skin dough

– 375g all purpose flour (Pillsbury preferred)
– 110g confectioner sugar
– 80g corn/canola oil
– 100ml coconut milk (Chef’ Choice preferred)
– 50ml water.

Add flour, sugar, oil and coconut into a mixing bowl, then slowly add water while kneading until the dough is smooth. Don’t need over 2 minutes or the dough would be too hard to flatten later. Cover with cling wrap and let the dough sit for 1 hour. Divide into 12 balls afterwards.

2. The inner layer dough

– 125g tapioca flour
– 95g wheat flour
– 110g corn/canola oil

Mix the flours and oil together. Do not knead. Let sit for 1 hour, then divide into 12 balls.

3. Bean paste filling with durian flavor and salted egg yolk

– 400g mung bean (peeled and split)
– 300g sugar
– 1 cup oil
– 1 tbs maltose sugar
– 1 tsp baking soda
– 1/4 cup wheat starch (the type used for potsticker)
– 200g durian flesh (ground up in a food processor)
– 12 salted eggs
– 1 slice of ginger
– rice wine

Separate the egg yolks from the whites, wash with cold water, then soak the yolks in rice wine and finely chopped ginger for about 30 minutes. Take the yolks out the wine mixture and quickly soak them in vegetable oil. Finally, bake the yolks on aluminum foil in 300F for 10 minutes.

Soak the mung beans in water and baking soda until they soften. Rinse them with cold water, steam, wait until the beans cool to make a fine paste with the food processor.
In a non-stick pan, simmer the bean paste with 200g sugar, 2 tbs maltose, and 1/4 cup oil over low heat. In another pan, mix 1/2 cup oil with 100g sugar to make caramel on low heat. It should be golden brown, or the pastry filling would be bitter.
When the sugar has caramelized, pour the bean paste into it and mix until there is no visible sugar. Add 1/4 cup of oil and wheat starch and continue simmering. Lastly, add durian paste and stir until the bean mixture no longer sticks to the utensil. Let the paste cool and divide it up to 12 portions.

4. The egg wash

– 1 egg, room temperature
– a pinch of salt (kosher salt preferred)
– 1 tbsp water
– 1 tsp sesame oil
– 1 tsp cashew oil
– 1 tsp dark corn syrup

Mix all ingredients into a blend.

5. Make the cake
– Flatten each ball of skin dough, then use it to wrap the ball of inner layer dough (like a dumpling). Keep the dumplings moist until all 24 balls of skin dough and inner layer dough are paired up.
– Gently flatten each dumpling into oval shape about 2mm thick, roll the sheets into Swiss-rolls.
– Repeat the flattening process with the Swiss rolls, then let the dough balls rest for 15 minutes. Make sure that during this process the skin dough always covers the inner layer dough, or the pastry will have a rough surface after baking. If the dough is too tough, let it sit for 5-10 minutes. Do not exert too much force while flattening.
– Flatten the dough balls again into disks, and use them to wrap up the balls of bean paste (each with an egg yolk inside).
– Preheat oven to 400F
– Bake the pastries for 15 minutes, then take them out to brush egg wash on one side, and continue baking for another 10 minutes.
– Let the pastries cool and oil release for a few days.

6. Eat the cake
(Caution: it may be too fatty and sweet to eat whole, one quarter at a time is the usual safe quota)

Recipe translated from source.

Korean movie series are my soju. It’s for celebration, depression, even seeking motivation. I got motivated to learn Korean and to try Korean food. I made a couple of attempts in College Station, but it’s not a good idea to judge Korean cuisine from a local Chinese restaurant. The urge to understand why their food looks so appealing in movies overtook the resistance against chili pepper. So we went to Bellaire the first weekend I got home, to a Korean buffet.

Korean Garden Grille has a spacious feel (again, something of Texas that I will miss). I made a point to sample everything, and I almost accomplished my goal. I tried “beef seaweed soup” (no beef was visible, so I assume it was beef flavored seaweed soup?), 11 kinds of kimchi (not knowing most of the Korean names nor the veggie names), bulgogi, japchae (stirfried cellophane noodle), 7 kinds of fried egg/veggie (again, not knowing either the Korean names or the veggie names). The kimchi was mostly sour (a little more sour than pickled daikon and carrots, not as salty as pickles, much less aggressive on the back of the throat than the French pickled cornichon).

Above image: From left to right, first row: napa cabbage (wombok/baechu/cải bách thảo), don’t-know, don’t-know radish, bean sprouts; second row: not-sure seaweed, daikon-maybe? kohlrabi, no-idea. I tried a couple of angry-looking-red-peppered kimchi the angry-looking red-peppered odeng (first thing in the image below), but they weren’t too spicy (well, at least not in small quantities), the fried octopus (red, bottom right) was quite tongue-catching actually.

I finished a half mini-bowl of rice with just one piece of those. Now I’ve never been to a Korean restaurant before nor have I any Korean friends, so I’m just judging from the Korean movies I’ve watched: this place is typical Korean, rice is plentiful and brought out at the beginning (just like water), since (again, movie trivia) Koreans consider good eats cannot be without rice.

It’s also nice that the place has a grill at the table, and we can sizzle as much meat and shrimp as we want. Spicy smoke, fatty sound, savory emanation. Right next to a plate of fresh green-leaf lettuce (that’s right, not iceberg lettuce).

The meat is a little sweet, which is perfect. I am never a fan of eating uncooked veggie with cooked food. I think putting fresh bean sprouts into a bowl of hot phở is hideous, the textures just don’t cooperate. But nothing beats a lettuce wrap with beautifully-browned, well-cooked, well-seasoned meat inside. It’s marvelous. Although busy gorging I was, I also watched the Korean hostess got herself a plate: she wrapped a spoonful of rice and a piece of meat inside a lettuce leaf, making it the size of a tennis ball, and put the whole thing in her mouth at once. Now that is skill.

Fried veggie and egg. Beside the obviously must-be egg, I could pick out squash, but that was about it. Barely seasoned. No oil streaming out as I took a bite. They were all tasty appetizers.

The seaweed soup is warm and slender, almost like refreshment. Little mom preferred the daikon soup. Many thumbs up. I will definitely try more Korean food. Now, for spice-inclined diners, the taste might be a little too plain (except the kimchi) compared to other Asian cuisines, and it seems like not much salt was used. Cost: about $60 for 3 people. Sure, this is much higher than Chinese buffet, a notch above Kim Son Vietnamese buffet, but the quality is well worth it. I have proof.

UPDATE (July 2010): This restaurant is now closed, replaced by Saigon Buffet (opened May 2011).

This is it. My last day at TAMU, at least for a while.

Also my last meal at Sbisa for a while. I’ve eaten here almost every Sunday and used to eat here every dinner my freshman year (I was naïve and got a meal plan then).

They’ve raised the price since then too, so that if you don’t have a meal plan you have to pay about 25-30% more than those who do, but it’s an all-you-can-eat buffet, hence cheap for those with big appetite. With 8.25 you can make your own salad, make your own burger, wait in line for crepes, or do what I usually do: go straight to the main arrays of meats, veggie, rice, potato, rolls, etc. then head to the dessert and grab a cookie or two. Sbisa’s chocolate chip cookies are unrivaled.

They usually have someone cutting barbecued brisket or ribs too, poor guy cuts and cuts, so many students always stand around waiting for him with hawk hungry eyes.

The selection varies every day, but that’s a typical tray I get. You wouldn’t be able to tell, but I try to eat a balanced meal when I can. At least color-balanced: green broccoli and Brussel sprouts soaked with cheese, orangish yellow hush-puppies, red tomato, see? The fried chicken lady handed me 2 pieces when I asked for only 1. The rolls are usually good. It’s nice to make your own salad, I discovered that tomatoes and raisins make a good blend. On the tissue are pumpkin bread and some other bread (I want to say banana, but I’m not so sure). They’re ok. Sweet and mild, a tad gooey, not something I would seek for at a store, but not bad.

Read their blog. I’ll miss the meat abundance here in Texas. Well, really the abundance of everything.

(*): Sbisa, however, doesn’t have buffoons and drunken Germans as far as I’ve seen; some students who act like those, maybe.

Can you be overflowed with art? My afternoon started with a lecture on the dawn of Cubism (when abstracts paintings were still somewhat legible if you really try hard to make sense out of it). At 3 I rode in the car with my physics professor and advisor across the countryside to downtown Houston, filled our eyes with sight of uniform corn fields, carpets of bluebonnet (yes, they’re still out and blooming!), and relaxing cattle. At 5 we reached the Wortham center garage, parking for the Rigoletto performance later in the evening. At 5:10 we were at Artista, 2 blocks down the street. It’s owned by a Nicaraguan family, featuring South American dishes, ranging from high class to what you might find around the corner for a good tummy-filler. So I’ve heard. You’ve gotta have a nice dinner before an opera, spend your TA check of the week on a single meal, and feel good, right?

Act I: chupe. “maine lobster bisque, charred tomato and smoked panela cheese” is what on the menu.

I found lobster, corn, rice, and mysterious white cubes underneath the calm surface. Not unexpectedly, it was thick, a little peppery, just luke warm, and cries South American. The most interesting thing was the white cubes, which taste very much like tofu, except for the extra firmness, or perhaps the almost gummy-bear texture, plain and pure. Was that the panela cheese?

Act II: churrasco. I saw it on almost every dinner banquet menu, and I like my meat, so why not?

Beautiful combination of colors. At the left we have béarnaise, made from egg yolk and spices, but by itself it really doesn’t have much of taste other than fatty. In the middle, just a simple steak. On the right, (roasted ?) ripe plantain. This is the best thing. I had to sacrifice the meat to have room for the plantain. It was sweet and compact. It enhances the steak. Oh, did I forget to mention that we had plantain chips while waiting? So much better than potato chips and corn chips. Thin and crisp, but they break nicely, you don’t get a mount of crumbs in front of you. The Dominican in our group told us that they make the chips from green plantain, and keep the ripe ones for side dishes (like with the churrasco) and for dessert.

Now I couldn’t take a picture of my dessert because there wasn’t enough light. Half of the group was persuaded into getting the Tres Leches, and was very happy they did. A sponge cake soaked in milk it was, but it is much lighter than it sounds. The Dominican said that it’s their best dessert, the final touch that makes you come back, the ultimate satisfaction that you must have before you die. Well, it was good. But I like my rich cocoa tart with “fudge and chocolate ganache and coconut ice cream”, which was absolutely not coconut, but more like sweetsop sorbet. (Don’t let the name fool you, sweetsop, i.e. sugar-apple, is neither sweet nor apple, but rather pulpy and a little sour, and beware of the seeds if you’re eating the fresh one.) Well, does this swapping of tropical flavors occur on regular basis? I don’t know. I did enjoy my “coconut ice cream” very much, and the chocolate quiche too, but each on their own. The combination wasn’t a good match.

We were an assorted group of 15, several Americans, a Swiss, a Dominican, a Peruvian, a Mexican, a Vietnamese, a lot of wine, and different levels of cuisine adventurousness. Guess how much was on the bill? 1186 dollars and some. Well, of course it got that high because Dr. Agnolet and Sandi were kind enough to pay for most of it. But, there you go, physics students don’t always eat cheap. 😉

See the menu.

Here in College Station, the first weekend of spring break is a wonderful time to eat out (except on Sunday, when no non-chain restaurant is opened). Especially when it rains lightly and is cold. Like today. No students, little traffic, plenty of parking space. We tried out Madden’s today. I’ve been there before, but I tend to ignore street names and number, rely on my sense of direction and memory of the building’s color and architecture to find a place. It’s a mistake in downtown Bryan. Every building is about the same style, either stained white or bright red brick. We got lost, and hungry. But that’s ok, we were treated by crusty fresh bread and a very friendly waitress once we were seated. I feel bad when the waitresses say their names and I can never remember them. So-so oil dip, not too much of an enhancement. A little more butter on the crust than for those who are not interested in buttery fingers. Anyway, strong recommendation for the bread.

We did not have to wait long for our entrees. 3 plates, 6 crab cakes total. School work has kept me from blogging for so long I forgot to bring my camera, hence no pictures today. But the crab cakes were pretty, I assure you. Tasty too, if you’re concerned. At first I thought there was no way a polenta crusted crab cake and a seared crab cake could fill me up, each of which was about as big as a small clementine (with 2 flat ends, of course). But perhaps the aid of 2 squares of appetizing bread was more significant than I expected. I ended up stuffing down my last scoop of crab meat slowly as the eager waitress took away my plate. The lunch menu did disappoint me a little, what’s with tacos and quesadillas? It’s economic down time and all, but have some respect for the quiche and the creme brulee. How about a glass of Gemtree Citrine Chardonnay to go with a fish taco, your excellency? Geographically we’re close to Mexico, but some things just can’t stand side by side on a menu, you know…

Put it this way, at Madden’s, you pay a decent price for a good meal, in a cozy red brick room, served by a well-mannered waitress, it’s overall a very satisfactory experience, but not too high up there. Perhaps I’m just picky about what I see.

On the way home, we took a long detour on Texas 6 to watch bluebonnets blooming in thick formation on the hilly sides along the road. Rain and fog clouded our vision, but it feels refreshing to see spring time. Still the sporadic cold fronts are too harsh for buttercups, but little yellow daisies and Indian paintbrushes have lighten up. For completeness, here’s La Nuit, by Salvatore Adamo. There, sight, taste, and sound, for a rainy Saturday. 🙂

Ten weeks after sending off the application to grad school, including 2 weeks of anxious waiting and roller-coaster cycling of hopefulness and hopelessness, the first result I got back is a rejection. How to handle a rejection? You don’t, you just ignore it. It wasn’t a bad moment, to be honest. In some way it was relieving, no more waiting from that school. It’s been restless for the last two weeks. I’ve heard friends getting acceptance and rejection, I’ve thought about the embarrassment, and the choices I have in the worst scenario. Switching to med school would take at least one year to study for the MCAT, another to apply and hang around worthlessly, another 4 in grad school (in the case of acceptance), perhaps 2-3 years of residency (if graduated), which totals to 8-9 years, about the same time length to professorship (if everything goes well). Or I could be a bum, but Chris had assured me that I wouldn’t make it. Judging from my GRE scores, I have little belief that my MCAT score would be impressive, multiple choice tests and I aren’t buddies.

But, those were just negative thoughts in the dark hours. I still have classes, movies, and chocolate for self-indulgence. And all the cheesy appreciation for the support from parents and professors, which I consider quite personal(ly valuable) and would spare you from. However, I will disclose my other personal stuff, which has to do with chocolate. Thanks to Mudpie, I’m now racing with time in consuming 9 bars of chocolate, or 22.7 oz (645 g) of chocolate liquor, water-filtered beet sugar, cocoa butter, soy lecithin, vanilla, and flavors. It will help you overcome any depression initiated by academics. So here goes.

Zebra (70% cocoa, dark chocolate with orange): feel smooth, aromatic right after opening the wrapper, a little bitter, easily melt in hand, not as orange as expected, the bitterness is not noticeable when let melt in mouth. No orange peel pieces visible like Valrhona’s dark with orange. Score: 7/10.

Koala (70%, smooth dark with cherry): same bitterness with subtle sweet from cherry, almost unnoticeable taste of cherry except for the smell, pleasant, like lying on the grass at night, a very genteel experience suitable for those who don’t like dark but have to eat it anyway. Score: 7.5/10. On second thought, it’s like talking to an old man, there’s some grumpy bitterness, but there is definitely something sweet and cute.

Lion (35%, smooth milk chocolate): definitely a little too sweet, better to let melt on your tongue than to chew, as the sugar splash is intense. Maybe I’m just too accustomed to dark chocolate. The silky feel makes it reside a level above Hershey’s. Score:6/10 for perfect achievement in ordinary. Suitable for unadventurous nibblers.

Dolphin (48%, milk chocolate with cherry): pieces of cherries inside, do not melt on hand, firm, confident, lingering, suave, take a bite and you’d feel like you’re bathed in milk and wrapped in velvet. Very sensational, yet very assertive. Perfect touch. Score: 9/10.

The Endangered Species chocolate producers donate 10% of the net profits to help species and habitat, so their taste is moved up a notch for me. My ambition is to try all of their collection, to collect for myself the wrappers with animals and their story inside. I’ve also mastered the skill of rewrapping the bars. They look like new.

Next on Down the Aisles: more Endangered Species Chocolate

DISCLAIMER: I received no free product or monetary gift in exchange for this review.

Eight interesting facts about pho: (picked and translated from source)

1. During 1908-1909, steam boats were a popular means of transportation from Hanoi to other cities in the North, and pho started out as a vendor food sold in numbers at river ports. From 1930, pho was popular in the cities, some pho restaurant in Hanoi served until 4 AM.

2. Originally there was only pho with well-done beef. Rare beef was a latter innovation, and only became dominant after 1954.

3. Within the first decade when pho was popular, many cooks tried to add different twists and turns to the dish, however, not all could satisfy the public taste. A few variations that we don’t see today are pho in the Jean de Puis neighborhood (Hang Chieu, Hanoi) with sesame oil and tofu (1928), pho gio (rolls of sliced beef), pho Phu Doan with ca cuong extract(*).

4. Chicken pho first appeared in 1939, when beef was not sold on Wednesday and Friday, and there was no fridge.

5. Pho sot vang is a nice mix of Vietnamese and French cuisine: the chunks (not slices) of beef are seasoned and stewed in wine (vang), then added atop the pho. (This is the first time I’ve heard of this type of pho)

6. Pho did not migrate to the South until 1954 – when the Geneva treaty was signed and Northerners migrated to the South to escape the rule of Communists. This is the historical mark of pho spreading all over the country.

7. Southern pho, easy-going and generous like the Southern Vietnamese, have add-ons that its Northern brother didn’t think of: bean sprouts, fresh herbs, a little sugar in the broth, hoisin sauce and hot sauce.(**)

8. A few famous Pho restaurants in Vietnam (that I’ve seen in Houston and California, but I’m not sure if they are the real deal): pho Tàu Bay (“airplane”) (Hanoi, 1950)(***), pho Thìn (Hanoi, 1955), pho Hòa-Pasteur (Saigon, 1960).

* I had this extract once in a bowl of bun moc, just a drop, literally, and it’s so strong it killed the broth and my appetite. The only other time I had something to that effect was when I dunked sushi in wasabi.
** Pho shacks in the North still hesitate to serve all these condiments today, which in my opinion is quite understandable. The veggies only clutter the soup and get you full more quickly. The sauces only overpower the natural broth (which already has at least a dozen different ingredients), and distract you from the real taste of pho.
*** The first owner of pho Tau Bay did not name it so. A friend gave him a pilot helmet, which he really liked and wore often. Customers then started calling him “ong tau bay” (Mr. Airplane) (?!) and the name stuck.

Wellsfargo has always been my favorite bank, for small reasons. Very recently I have one more small reason to like it. I usually go to this Wellsfargo bank on University Dr. Last Saturday morning, I saw these red envelopes (well, not as decorated as the one on the right, but still nice red ones) on the teller’s counter. I asked her how much they cost, and she said they’re free to take. I also overheard the tellers’ chatting about eating opossums. Now that is new. The teller who helped me said her grandfather ate them (but personally she wouldn’t want to find out how they taste). I wonder how they taste, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to get barbecued opossum with mushroom sauteed in melted mozarella cheese topped with grounded peanuts or whatever. Anyway, cultural thoughtfulness, generosity, friendly tellers, interesting conversations to gossip, what else can you expect from a bank?

*Red envelope is called “bao li xi” in Vietnamese.

Linh Son pagoda, Houston, click on the image to see more pictures of the pagoda.

Linh Son pagoda, Houston. Click on the image to see more pictures of the pagoda.
Although not all Vietnamese living oversea can take a day off to go to the pagodas on the first day of Tet, many manage to keep the tradition. Of course there is no strict requirement that one has to be looking at and praying to the Buddha at a certain day, for a certain amount of time, or with a certain prayer. Tet is not a religious based tradition. But many Buddhist and even non-Buddhists like to go to the pagodas on the first day of Tet to have a peaceful start of the new year, to feel spiritually lightened (hopefully enlightened as well) and pure on the important day. Many also choose to eat no animal product on this day, as it’s the new spring and every creature deserves to be happy and live in peace. Nonetheless, vegan restaurants are somewhat scarce in the conservative town, places with banh chung banh tet for sale don’t generally make the vegan version, and to deprive a Vietnamese of banh chung banh tet on a Tet’s day is somewhat cruel. So the pagodas take on the precious task.

Dua mon is pickled vegetables, here packaged in jars, and apparently on sale for $5? I believe I haven’t had dua mon. I’m not big on veggies in vinegar-sugar-salt mix, the only exception to me is pickled bean sprout (dua gia). But perhaps because every house during Tet is so overabundant with meat and glutinous rice, the dua being a bit tart, a bit sweet, crunchy, and light is a nice change in both taste and texture. In fact, with its economic nature and longevity, a big jar of dua on its own makes Tet in poor households.

Back to the star of Tet food. The square ones are banh chung, the cylindrical ones are banh tet. Banh chung is wrapped in dong leaves, banh tet is wrapped in banana leaves (theoretically). Banh chung declothed:

and quartered:

Mother got to the banh tet before I did, with a knife. I was 5 minutes too late to grab the camera. So here, in all gruesomeness, six “khoanh” of banh tet:

If you’re wondering, yes, their basic structure, except for the shape, is the same. Thick coat of glutinous rice outside, simple mung bean paste inside, since these are vegan banh made and sold at the pagoda. The meaty version of banh chung has lean pork amidst the bean paste, and that of banh tet has fatty pork. The outermost rim of glutinous rice is somewhat greenish yellow, naturally dyed by the leaves wrapping them and the long cooking process, in which they are submerged in water for hours. Banh chung was born in the North of Vietnam over 2000 years before Jesus was born, and especially made for Tet and Tet only. It even has a myth to explain its symbolism. Banh tet was its little brother, made for easy cooking and carrying, more popular in the South, available in one form or another all year long. The rice layer is soft and gummy, the bean paste middle is a little salted and sweetened. It’s vegan, but it doesn’t lack flavor. It’s really really heavy though. One khoanh of banh tet for breakfast and I was full from 10AM until 7PM! I would have been starved otherwise, classes all day, and school cafeterias don’t serve vegan food. That means if you like to keep yourself reasonably full, with 6 bucks you are full for 3-6 days of banh tet, and 4-8 days of banh chung. Pretty good huh?

There are several things to do during Tet in Saigon. It’s not a one-day holiday, it’s a season, similar to Christmas in form and Thanksgiving in spirit. The holiday is lunar-calendar based. It starts on the 23rd of the 12th month, the day to “cung dua ong Tao“, a ceremonious dinner to see off the Household God as he takes his annual trip to heaven. It ends on the 7th day of the 1st month of the new lunar year. In the first week, there are spring flower markets on Nguyen Hue Street and water melon markets in Dakao. Water melon used to be available during Tet only, and there used to be only one kind – the green outside, red inside kind. Now there are yellow, striped, even cubic watermelon! There’s the sound of the gongs and the drums of mua lan (lion dance) in the neighborhood. There are thousands of crimson red Chinese sausages packaged, displayed not so far from deep green banh chung and banh tet. Hmm… it just crossed my mind that the main colors of Tet are also red and green, like Christmas… There is orange from the kumquats, shiny gold from the newly polished copper censers, and yellow from the flowers. Chrysanthemums for small vases on the altars and mai for display in the living room or the garden. My mom used to say, when she took off the leaves of the mai tree (to make room for its new leaves and blossoms), she could feel Tet is coming in the air. For big families with the tradition of making their own banh chung banh tet, Tet comes when they sit around the huge pot of cooking banh, warmed by the fire, chatting the hours away. After giao thua (Tet’s eve), the second week of the holiday starts. It’s the first week of the new spring and the new lunar year. It’s time to go to the pagodas, to be nice with others, to relax and enjoy oneself. That’s why “thang gieng la thang an choi” (the 1st month is the month of fun).

Do I have a month of fun to celebrate Tet now? Hehe, certainly not. I did have over a month of fun and total laziness for Christmas break, however, thanks to Texas A&M’s generosity. But school started last Tuesday; and this Monday, in all splendor of the first day of the new lunar year, the most important day of Tet, I will haul my backpack on the shoulder and go to class from 10 till 5:30. Good start. I will be hardworking and learn a lot the whole year. The Vietnamese living overseas have at most a Tet party on the weekend or the night before. A Vietnamese physics hermit spends giao thua alone with research and movies. But above all reasons Tet is the time to be with family. My family is here, so my Tet is here. 🙂

*The blog title is inspired by Lê Phố’s painting under the same name.
**The painting is Fleurs by Lê Phố, 1960, oil on canvas. Since I couldn’t find a free image of L’approche du Tet online, I thought Fleurs would be an appropriate substitution.