So…the other day I’m in a coffee shop, minding my own business (literally logging into my work email), and I hear the following exchange:

He: So…ummm…the other day I was out at a restaurant, and…umm… I thought that really, this is just the place I’d love to take you.

She: Oh. Really? Where was it?

He: Idontknow, I was there with some friends. It was Vietnamese though. We had a really good soup.

She:

He: Yeah, it’s called…

..and here I’m stretching it, because I’m seriously unsure how to convey this…

Pha hoo ah

She: yeah, really? I know what you mean, maybe, I’ve had that, but I didn’t think it was pronounced that way

He: well, yeah! Pha hoo ah. That’s it.

She:

He: no! really!

She:

He: so, wanna go some time?

She: uhhh, whatever.

Turns out He is a suave and worldly college kid, She is an attractive slightly loopy barista with an eye for pretentious suave and worldly college kids. Fate intervened, but…

Vietnamese cuisine in America (at least outside of SoCal) can generally be summed up by the noodle dish pho. This is not a bad thing. Every cuisine gets their star. Italians have pizza, the French have themselves and sometimes bread and snails, the Russians borscht, the Chinese things that go woof (ed. what I say above is ‘their star’, not the extreme American perception, so I happily amend to Peking duck — thanks M.), Americans hot dogs, and the Vietnamese have pho (pronounced, by the way, fuh (like here, although there are some serious arguments even amongst Vietnamese on this point, and it goes way back to the North/South conflict after the war)).

Your basic bowl of pho is made up first of the broth. Generally made from beef stock,various meaty cow bits, various bony cow bits, and onions, it is simmered until the someday-to-be-pho-cows come home. During the simmering process a variety of spices are swirled in, through, or flashed from across the room. These generally fall into the ginger, cinammon, anise, and clove camps, and all impart their own particular essense to what becomes unmistakable pho.

Added to the broth are onions (green and white), cilantro, and in the most classic (but certainly not only) version, thin strips of meat. This is then brought to you in a bowl twice the size of your head. Along with the bowl is a plate of condiments. It is the condiments that turn a perfectly good soup into something you must eat before you die.

Thai basil, bean sprouts, and lime are the most usual. These are pulled apart, squeezed, and dropped into the broth and beef. The combination of flavors and textures is indescribable, and can often be improved with some jalapenos or hot cock (aka sriracha).

There are good places in the US for pho (for a complet(ish) list check out Pho Fever), although most seem pretty scary to those without a cultural emissary. Doesn’t matter. Go on in, ask for pho bo or pho tai and you’ll be fine.