For a time in the eighties my brother and I carpooled to Santa Ana College in my Dodge Omni, and later my Buick Skyhawk. Both were fire engine red. This brought out our many aesthetic differences. Even then I could take only so much of ethereal Cockteau Twins and Dead Can Dance in the tape deck and he had an olfactory aversion to my Vietnamese food fetishes.

I’d pick him up for class after lunch. “You’ve been in Little Saigon, I can smell it.” he’d say as a blast of heady lemongrass and pungent nuoc mam assaulted him when he opened the passenger side door.

It’s twenty years later and little has changed. My brother still loves 4AD bands and I have a car permeated with the lovely reek of  pâté during frequent bánh mì sprees. Here just a few of my current Little Saigon obsessions.

Sandwich + newspaper = happiness.

Bánh Mì Thit

The three-for-five deal assures perpetual lines at the orderly, utilitarian Bánh Mì Saigon, and sheer chaos at the popular, third world Bánh Mì & Che CALI chain. For a more refined sandwich, head to the Parisian-pretty Top Baguette where the Lemongrass Beef sandwich is superlative.   Top Baguette 9016 Bolsa Ave. Westminster 714 379-7726.

Banh Mi & Che CALI regulars.

Roasted Pork Spring Rolls

Lushly lit and filled with the zen sounds of Buddha Bar, comely Brodard Chateau is known for its massive take-out business built on roasted pork spring rolls. It’s no wonder: they are portable, snackable and come with house-made special sauce sauce unlike the usual nuoc cham.  Still, in Little Saigon’s plushest fine dining spot, it’s tempting to dine in.  Try the bánh khot,  sizzling, turmeric-stained coconut-scented rice flour crepes no bigger than a communion wafer with an impression that holds minced shrimp, mung bean and pork. Brodard Chateau 9100 Trask Ave. Garden Grove, 92844. 714 899 8273.

Iced Coffee

Café Sua Da used to fuel me through many a day answering phones at the County of Orange Probation Department, Westminster branch. (note to future parents: Cross Ghengis and Attila off list of potential baby names.) Van’s Bakery chain is my  fave. Why? Whole beans, freshly ground, Nestle’s Sweetened Condensed Milk and the  house-whipped cream they use to frost cakes piped  in the middle of the ice layer.  They stock  many permutations of the eminently snackable thit kho bò,  sweet sesame-flecked shards or  fiery,  curry coated  chunks of beef jerky.  Pâté chaud is always available at check-0ut: irresistable hot pastry puffs with curried chicken or pork inside. Van’s Bakery, 14346 Brookhurst St. Garden Grove, CA 714 839-1666.

Soup's on!

Mì Quang and Bún Bò Huê

Pho is lovely with it’s anise scented  broth and elegant, paper thin  filet mignon slices, but Huê-style soups from Vietnam’s mountainous central region provide long-term sustenance.  At the homely, economical Ngu Binh, the proprietress doles out each bowlful individually to assure equality for all. Maybe if you’re born in central Vietnam, you bleed bún bò huê, but for me, it’s an aquired taste. Swarthy beef sausages, blood cake and fiery, chili spiked broth equal a sinus cleansing, delicious good time.  Mi Quang is another matter entirely. This is south central Vietnam’s grandmotherly fare: spicy chicken and pork stock poured over the bowl of steaming, wide yellow rice noodles rife with shrimp, chicken morsels, banana blossom, bean sprouts and shrimp paste and crushed peanuts. It goes down your gullet as easily as a middle schooler slides down the Bazooka Bowl attraction at Wild Rivers. Ngu Binh Restaurant 14072 Magnolia St., #107 Westminster, 714.903.6000.

Mango madness.

Banana Fritters and Pickled Mango

Located at the corner of Bolsa and Mag, Trái Cây Ngon specializes in one type of fruit: tropical. Jackfruit the size of  armadilloes are prepped in back to extract  their  soft, date-sized fruits that taste of custard.  Juicy longan, perfumy lychee and dragon fruit are all fresh and delicious. At checkout, don’t miss the chili-laced pickled mango and molten banana fritters.8920 Bolsa Ave., Westminster. 714.894.5852.

If you’ve spent any time in Tustin’s box retailer orgy The District at Tustin Legacy, you may have felt that the days of stumbling upon a restaurant find are over.  It’s as if your next meal has already been master planned for you. You may forage for lunch on the vast asphalt tundra while you’re waiting for Costco Tire Center to  lower your grocery getter off the blocks, but it’s a challenge to find much other than heavily branded mass produced sustenance.

Green apple salad with beef: fuse it or lose it!

If you’re going to eat in the District, there’s The Winery, William Lewis and J.C. Clow’s singular, lovely refuge that gives the illusion you’ve escaped the  ’one million square-foot lifestyle center’,  but it requires more of an occasion than waiting out your pro-rated Michelin LTX installment. If you need something a little quicker, cheaper and less bacchanalian before heading back to the office or school pick-up, try Asian Mint.  

Gleaming gunmetal and orange tile accents appear to have been appropriated from an  Ann Sacks on Ebay spree.  John Tesh-type  instrumentals play mercilessly on the sound system. The boîte across from Borders  only looks like the octo-spawn of P.F. Chang’s and Panda Express.  Surprise: there’s just one.  The menu is Vietnamese and Chinese with some Malay and Singaporean dishes and what might be termed fusion.

Dumplings are best left for your next dim sum run. Vietnamese salad rolls are great snack food, but can be weighed down by rice paper as clumsy and rubbery as 70’s ten speed handlebar tape. The amazing avocado shrimp roll is wrapped in rice paper as gossamer and tight as Lady Gaga’s galactic Armani Grammies gown, a nearly weightless vehicle for the succulent rosy shrimp, creamy avocado, crunchy won ton skin and fresh herbs within.   

The phσ is only decent with much fresher herbs and full flavored broths to be found down the street in Little Saigon. For lunch, the tangy tamarind fish is buoyant, its tender texture and mild flavor belie its piscine origins altogether.

  Like a Tarantino flick, fusion cuisine, and terms like ’Califoriental’ that it conjurs up, scare me with their T & I tactics on unsuspecting dishes.  Asian Mint does a very traditional Vietnamese green papaya salad with beef, but also a version that substitutes green apples for the papaya. Savory beef, all at once glossy, juicy and aromatic is tossed with sautéed onions on a bed of crisp, tart Granny Smith match sticks dotted with chopped peanuts. Not a common combination and not a freak show on a plate, just really good.   

2487 Park Ave. Tustin.714.259.7738. Dinner for two, $25.00, food only.