DN:SERIES Street Food

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Ambling across Asian cities, Anthony Bourdain famously exalted the steaming fare of the rickety food stand to a kind of holiness, the apotheosis of the Platonically perfect plate. In the nine-part Netflix series STREET FOOD: ASIA, it’s hard to dispute the gustatory splendors the iconic foodie discovered in his legendary perambulations. The series lurches through the back alleys, crammed sidewalks and al fresco markets of urban Thailand, India, Taiwan, Japan, South Korea, Singapore, Indonesia, the Philippines and Vietnam, producing a sizzling, smoky, bubbling smorgasbord of edible exoticism that hardly fails to slaver-induce.

In Seoul, kimchi, Korean raw beef and pork dumplings are market specialities. Ho Chi Minh dishes up succulent snails and silken pho noodles. The most popular street dish in Delhi is chaat— deep-fried potatoes topped with chutney, yogurt and vegetables. The secret ingredients of the fare are its absurd cheapness, pay-and-grab convenience and nearly guaranteed deliciousness. Street food also proves to be the embodiment of democratization, where class lines blur and businessmen bump elbows with tuk-tuk drivers. It is the food of the people, particularly in places like Delhi, where many don’t have kitchens.

Created by “Chef’s Table” showrunner David Gelb, the series deploys the near-fatigued grammar of slick food programming (“Salt Fat Acid Heat,” “The Mind of a Chef”), using hoary but potent visual motifs, like the close-up glamor shot of exquisitely arranged dishes (the requisite food porn) and oodles of slow-motion cooking technique and fast-motion bustle to depict urban commotion in what double as pocket travelogues crackling with local culture and historical upheaval, from the Vietnam War to the Partition of India, all of which infuse the cuisines.

The people who make the food make the show; they are the stories behind the stalls. Through interviews, market sprees, whipped woks and gurgling deep-friers, volumes are imparted about several street chefs, their craft, philosophies, life journeys (almost all rooted in dire poverty and wrenching tragedy), and the passion that fires fine culinary art. A standout is Jay Fai, 73, the first Bangkok street chef to earn a Michelin star. She’s honored for her destination crab omelets—moist and flaky and bursting with savory meat. These are not the epic, hip narratives of feted celebrity chefs in other food shows, but 30-minute, bite-size stories of humble beginnings and ongoing struggle that lead to localized but undeniable success. The proof is on the paper plate.

Tim OBrien