What kind of fish is the fish in Binh Dinh, where does it live that when cooked with Vietnamese coriander, rich people and tycoons also want to eat it?

In the city, how can you find the fish? This morning, an aunt brought a basket of fish from the suburban market, and you caught it so you bought it. For people like us who come from the rice straw and bamboo industry, the fish is associated with our childhood.

My maternal home is near the mountain. Ba Phu Cat mountain at that time was a whole world let the kids explore. Out of fish sauce, run into the mountains to find stream fish, a bunch of giang leaves, and a handful of chili peppers. 

Feeling sad, I ran into the mountains to find bunches of chestnuts, birds, and picked sardines, and nibbled on them all day long without getting bored. Right below was a babbling stream, and a bunch of summer fish were coming. 

We caught a whole basket of fish. We all grilled them and ate them right there. The best part was when my cousin climbed up a nearby tree and sat there, picking off pieces of hot fish and putting them in his mouth. We brought some back home for our mother. 

Mom said, you can eat grilled food right here, but let me cook it with Vietnamese coriander and see if you can finish the pot of rice tonight.

Binh Dinh fish.

Mom started to cook the fish. Each one was plump and fat. When the fish was done, she marinated it. Looking at the pot of marinated fish made my mouth water. 

Fried onions with peanut oil, fresh turmeric, a little fish sauce, a little salt, a little sugar, a little seasoning powder, mom cooks all the spices to marinate the fish, mixes well, adds a little water then takes the pot off the heat. 

After a while, Mom slowly put each fish into the pot, arranged it somewhere, and covered it. Mom said, just leave it there, let them soak it up. 

The longer you leave it, the tastier and firmer the fish becomes. There is Vietnamese coriander in the garden. Mom asked my second sister to pick it, wash it and let it dry. 

The country people have the good fortune of being able to do many things in a leisurely and regular manner. Even cooking. With the available products, we just leisurely enjoy them.

After about 30 minutes of marinating the fish, Mom cut the Vietnamese coriander and put it in the pot, mixing it well again. The simmering charcoal fire would slowly cook the fish while everyone eagerly awaited dinner. 

The pot of stew continued to give off a fragrant aroma. The smell of the mackerel, the smell of fresh turmeric, the smell of Vietnamese coriander, the smell of scallion oil and fish sauce; both clear and vague. My memories of that childhood were always associated with rustic yet rich country dishes. 

Braised snakehead fish with Vietnamese coriander, the number one dish that goes well with rice at my house, that day, in the kitchen in the city, the smell of the wild countryside lingered until the next day…