A while ago, I saw a non-Vietnamese TikToker cook a Vietnamese “Đồ Kho” dish, and his technique was fine, but he skipped the most important step at the beginning: the caramelizing of sugar to make the base "Nước Mầu," which is the dark colored sauce that lends “Đồ Kho” its signature decadent flavor and texture -- and I have to admit, my heart hurt a little.

If you've followed me for a while, then you know that I am not one to nitpick on the right way or wrong way to cook anything. "Do what you can with what you have" is at the heart of my teaching. But in this case, skipping the "Nước Mầu" step out of “Đồ Kho” is like ripping the soul out of the heart that houses it. The heart is now but an empty shell, beating without its essence.

To understand why, we need to understand the original intention of “Đồ Kho."

In the time of food scarcity, when rice was the most widely available resource, Vietnamese cooks came up with the most frugal way to flavor their bland rice bowls with the most decadent flavor: a technique known as "Kho", which is braising what little protein and vegetable sources they had in a caramelized sauce. The base of the sauce is a thick, gooey russet brown glaze called "Nước Mầu," achieved by caramelizing sugar over low fire.

The unique blend of "Nước Mầu" with coconut water, fish sauce, and other aromatics is what gives the "Kho" sauce its signature savory, sweet, and complex decadence. From here, one can add what proteins and vegetables to the "Kho" pot, spoon the mixture over rice, and call it a meal. The deep savory richness of the sauce is what entices the cook's family to fill their bellies up with more sauce-laden rice, so they could feel satiated instead of deprived.

And that is why all my “Đồ Kho" recipes start with the same step: caramelize sugar over low heat until the sugar turns a dark brown color.

So when I saw that this step was completely omitted in this TikToker's recipe, I was very disappointed, because the resulting sauce will taste more like a light French stew, not a Vietnamese “Đồ Kho."

And it was the soul of a “Đồ Kho" clay pot simmering over a glowing wood-fired ember that comforted us through all those years of war, colonization, flood, and famine. And that is why I am unyielding when it comes to preserving the integrity of “Đồ Kho."

So let us gather under the squash vines, and I’ll show you how to make your own “Đồ Kho."