You toss the seitan with some soy sauce and black pepper. Expertly luring it around the skillet as the ingredients sizzle in coconut oil. Preheating the oven with your third hand you toast the bread. I prepare the supporting cast: chopping jalapeños into thin slices, pulling pickled daikon and carrots from the refrigerator, finding the softest stems of cilantro and getting ready with a knife and some Veganaise for the bread. I can't thank you enough for introducing me to the bánh mì. I tasted it the way it's supposed to be, bánh mì thịt nguội, and then after my conversion to compassion you've started cooking the most excellent variations. Maybe it's blas-phở-bánh-mì but I just see it as experimentation and accommodation. You're always accommodating. Making me delicious dishes despite my restrictions and picky demeanor. And when I cook, you're supportive. You come up behind me, wrap your arms around my waist, ask if you can help me dice. Looking for something to do, always looking for a way to help.
Blas-phở-bánh-mì by E Board

