A small hole in the wall spot that serves pretty decent beef pho. Bonus points for being walking distance to Ome by Spacebar so you can get yourself a real coffee after. Tender beef, good beef balls, solid noodles, above average broth: what more do you need?
Physically hindered by a buggered ankle, I spent a couple days longer than planned in Ipoh. As soon as it was on the mend I booked a bus ticket to the small town of Taiping, barely an hour away. Due diligence lead me to the 7 Villages Noodle House to try their famous Kuay Tiao.
It was raining (duh!), so I caught a cab. Settled in at the front outdoor section where I could watch the rain dropping like plump drunk flies. A super bowl of noodle soup was placed down before me. To my utter joy they had a delicous ginger-chili sauce on the table to kick things up a notch. This was a cross between a beef noodle soup and a chicken Pho, slippery noodles, consomme style clear broth, fish balls and a few chunks of shredded chicken thrown in for shits and giggles.
With belly full and smile intact (temporarily) I walked out into the rain and waited for my return cab under the sky instead of shelter.
On an insatiably hot day there are few things that sound as counter-intuative as a hot bowl of noodles. However, in some bizarre way, it does quell the serpents tongue.
My tuk tuk expertly wove its way in and out of Phnom Penh's traffic on the way to Davids. A small roadside restaurant famous for their hand-pulled noodles, which the cook proudly makes outside in full view of the road. I sat anxiously reading my book as he flipped and stretched the noodles meters away. The bowl was placed down, the soup looked rather thin and insipid. I decided to proceed with an open mind, and realised very quickly that I was right. The soup lacked any real depth and had been disguised from it's potential by adding a copious amount of cinnamon or star anise (or both) to "elevate" the rather mediocre broth. It took a lot of chili oil and soy sauce to make it palatable.
The main sin here were the noodles. If you're going to spend that much time making noodles from scratch, then don't overcook them. They were soggy and without any texture.
Duck breast was tasty, pok choi was also decent. Nothing else shone unfortunately...
The end of the line.
Perfection. Quynh and Hung are worthy competitors but if it came down to a day left on earth, and one last bowl of Phô it would have to be this one. The brisket one at Quynh is absolutely phenomenal, but the broth here just ticks it slightly over... i'm talking SLIGHTLY.
Both are worthy of time and investment and lots of sips and sighs, but if you come to HCMC for one day only, then get a Grab taxi and hurry down here.
(In) famous for the fact that then President Bill Clinton ate 2 bowls, this shop opened in 1999 and proudly declares that it serves "Presidential Broth". Ehem. First of all, what in all honesty would Bill Clinton know about Phô? Sure, it is a relatively tasty bowl of noodle soup, but there are far better in Saigon.
I hadn't entered Phô 2000 since my first visit to Vietnam almost 10 years go. Instinctively on further trips to the city I avoided it with the same fear I shed on places like KFC. For some reason it always looked like a fast-food joint, even tho I remember enjoying it the first time around. Relatively weather-beaten and sea-worn I decided if I was to compile a list that would be taken seriously I would have to try it again.
Honestly, I almost looked over my shoulder walking in. For no reason at all other than it was right next to one of the worst places in Saigon: Ben Thanh Market. A diseased watering hole for all the abject tourist wank you could ever imagine: The death-penalty inducing banana shirts, elephant pants to enrage the most ardent pacifist, dumb t-shirts emblazoned with Phòk That and the squeal of a tourist who thinks they got a good deal after bargaining for 30 minutes to get a 10 cent discount. Oh well.
Curtly: The soup was decent, especially after adding the condiments. The noodles were good and had a slight firmness to them still. The outstanding part here was the beef. Far more tender and "good cut" than most places you eat at on the street. Your 80.000 Dong won't buy you the best Phô in town, but it will get you a respectably decent meal in return.
My pho and noodle adventures take me to some strange neighbourhoods in random cities. Today was no exception. After spending the evening before poring over articles, newspaper scans and "insider info" the decision was made to head to District 1 and check this place out.
My grab driver looked at me with a bewildered stare when he read the address out to clarify I knew where I was going. He then took to the wheel and expertly wove his way between scooters like a skilled craftsman. Dropping me off a few meters away I took the opportunity to walk over to the river for a brief respite from the incessant movement of vehicular kind. I paused and gazed out over the brown, lilting water, but the moment was partially ruined by the sound of honking behind me and the plethora of plastic floating it's way to some ocean to poison the earths heart.
An english menu was placed in front of me. I had read various grumbles from experts galore about the infamy of being charged 100k for a bowl of soup at this place. Fear's were allayed when the menu clearly stated the prices, and the special was 100k, but you can also do what I did and order the medium bowl with rare beef and meatballs and eat to your stomachs content for 60k.
Price aside, what really matters is the food. On this occasion I have to admit this was one of the weaker bowls I have had in Saigon. First off the broth was examined unadulterated, it was off-puttingly sweet. I then tried the noodles and beef, good....ok.....fine. The beef balls had a strange overpowering garlic taste to them which didn't sit right. I applied herbs, lime juice, chilis and sauce and still couldn't rescue it. For once I decided to not be polite for the sake of it, and I paid and left with 3/4 of the bowl remaining. With so few days in Saigon, I don't have the luxury of wasting meals on mediocre food.
With 24 ingredients going into the secret broth, this mega-chain is spreading it's gospel of Pho to all corners of Vietnam. Despite multiple visits to the country, this was my first foray into the establishment.
Reasonably priced, rather decent broth for being a conglomerate, tender beef, decent noodles and the usual condiments and accompaniments.
If you're stuck for lunch and happen to walk past one of these, there are far worse places to appease your famishment than here.
Enraptured in idle conversation with the receptionist whilst awaiting a SIM card delivery, I turned the subject towards Pho. "Any places in Vung Tau that you would highly recommend?". She didn't hesitate for a second: " Minh Tam, it's the best! Local taste". Moments before leaving my room I had googled "Best Pho in Vung Tau" on a Vietnamese food site (not tripadvi-sore), and SNAP, Minh Tam had the highest ratings.
I walked into the small roadside shop, pointed at the bowl on the menu that I wanted, took my seat and smelled the divine broth wafting over while flies buzzed around in confusing patterns racing invisible prizes. First sip and I was a convert. Second sip, a religious nut. This was the bowl you hope to find everytime you enter a new shopfront or store. This exact bowl. Broth so clear, yet deep and unctuous in it's slimline perfection, noodles soft but textured, beef a little on the chewy side but lets not be negative. This is one of those bowls that would be served to you on your deathbed and you wouldn't even throw a glancing look towards impending death, you would shakily pour in as much broth as you could handle through your dentured mouth.
Only a handful of places on earth could come close to this. This is almost perfection.
Obviously the first thing i'm going to do when I land back in Vietnam (apart from having a power nap) is to seek out a bowl of Pho. I trustingly read some blogs, narrowed it down to this one to be the first victim of my serious withdrawals (they couldn't win), and hammered down highways on the back of a motorbike taxi dispensing life and death decisions in miliseconds and milimeters to spare. We arrived, all limbs intact, and I walked in to find the restaurant oddly empty.
The proprieter, a legend in these parts, with his massive grin and obvious limp came roving over to my table eager to see what this white boy wanted. I ordered the brisket pho, a Larue beer and sat back watching the torrent of traffic weaving it's way by. In distinct memory of some of the best bowls I have ever had, not that nostalgia can be a cheeky tart, but knowing full well what an epic bowl tastes like this was a crushing punch in the testicles. Now, on any given day in Oslo I would be donating blood to have a broth that came close to this (especially after Hai Cafe shut down), but the feverous lack of any depth of flavour was illuminated like a thin dress caught in headlights. The brisket was tougher than concrete, the fat lines were 70% of the "meat" and inedible in their nausea. The noodles were standard, so no inflammatory remarks can be aimed at them.
I had to start adding a host of unnecessaries: Tons of chili paste, pepper, even more herbs than was called for, vinegar, literally threw the kitchen sink at the bowl to make it sing in some particular way, even if that were a castrated Italian choirboy singing "Ave Maria" burdened by the knowledge that though his notes are clear, his lower half is missing some vital bits and pieces.
With sorrow making lines across my face I was forced to leave half the bowl, pay, try to fake a smile, and walk hastily in any which direction just to get away from the aftermath of a semi-disastrous meal.
Scarily enough, I awoke this morning with sleep heavy on my eyelids, considered my options, and found myself needing another bowl of Pho. The night before I had met a delightful Vietnamese girl at a bar who's boyfriend was a rich American-Vietnamese cocky idiot, so while he bragged to a fellow American about his business acumen, I stole tips off her for places to eat in Danang. This was the first place she recommended.
The interior left little to the imagination, the kind of place you'd imagine getting sick if you touched anything that wasn't over boiling point. I crossed myself out of habit rather than belief. A steaming bowl of broth, noodles, greens, onions and beef pieces arrived at my table and I dove in headfirst. Broth was rather complex, a tiny bit thin in flavour but you got hints of where this was going. Possibly if it was left reducing another couple of hours it would be spot on. The noodles were the usual fare, the beef a little on the scary side so I left most of it.
All things considered it was a decent bowl of Pho, and definitely the second best I had in Danang after the Container place that shook my stereotypes to their foundations.
I'm not kidding. It's called Pho Container aaaaaaand: It's in a replica ship container. All sounds a little bit too gimmicky for me, but the reviews were solid and being a 2 minute ride from the apartment I had to give it a go. Especially after yesterdays crushing disappointment, I needed to redeem Pho for Vietnam!
I decided to splash out and order the "Aussie Beef" bowl which was 1 dollar more expensive than the others, but turned out to be the size of a bathtub. Fear shot through my pores at the size of this behemoth landing at the table carried by strong arms. First impressions, this looked pukka. I stirred the broth a little and took my first sip, unadulterated. Bingo! It had that clear, rich, slightly sweet broth that I had come to know and love with hints of star anise and other spices coming through gently. I tore apart the basil, coriander, red chillis, bean sprouts and loaded my bowl ready for attack.
3/5th's of a way down I had to throw in the towel. This was fantastic food, I just couldn't manage any more. I made my excuses, took some photos and left with a stomach equal parts content and at breaking point.
Most of you know that Pho and Ramen are two of my favourite dishes, so I judge them punishingly hard based on 30+ years of gorging on one type or another, in their native countries and various others. Sometimes you find a jewel of a Pho place in the strangest corner (like Odesa) but this was not one of those cases.
The rain was pummelling down on us as we hurried to get a bite before the start of the Champions League final. We sat the sign barking at us from across the road and decided a hot, comforting bowl of Pho would be the perfect medicine for the match.
We descended into the basement where a very hip crowd of mostly white people sat stuffing their faces with Vietnamese fare. I automatically worried. The service was decent, the prices rather insane, and the atmosphere slightly tacky. Beef pho with meatballs and rare steak.
All in all the meat was decent, though some pieces had a rather mealy texture to them, the noodles were standard, the accompaniments all the usual (deep fried shallots too), but the main problem was the broth. Overly sweet, not balanced at all. The type of broth you take one spoonful and think this might be promising and then its all downhill after. I wouldn't return. It really was that sweet, an the price didn't hold back either.
You know when you recommend a place, and its bloody marvellous, and then friends go there a couple months later and go "Huh? WTF is so great about that?"... and invariably you find out the chef quit or the place is under new management, or that you just have really bad taste.
I discovered this place 2 years ago via an old lady who ran my Airbnb who said "Ignore the tourists, the locals are all on the 2nd and 3rd floor because this is the best in Saigon". And bloody hell she was right. I went multiple times, took friends, recommended it to friends, had generally only positive feedback and was so looking forward to trying it again except, it was not great when I went last week. (my previous review). However, sometimes you have to give it another go, and tonight I did... and by far this was the greatest bowl of Pho I have ever eaten in my life.
The broth was divine, the noodles, the brisket, the accompaniments, the sauces, and thinly sliced onions, I cannot fault a single thing on this dish, and therefore stick strongly to the fact that Pho Quynh is going to be almost impossible to beat ever.
Doing this labour of love entails trying a lot of different places, and only finding a few real gems. That is pretty much the journey of life too. Having had so many amazing bowls of ramen or soup at "chain restaurants" in Japan and Asia, I am not necessarily put off by the term. However, mom + pop stores specialising in one certain style, almost always beat out the competition.
This is true in the case for Hoa (a chain). I was originally going to try Minh, but they close at 11 am and I flew in last night and needed my ugly sleep. I caught a Grab Moto up to Pasteur, almost smacked straight into a brand new BMW, then had a man literally 1 cm from running into me on the back of the bike until I shouted and he looked up in the last split second, got to the place, noticed it was packed with locals, found a table and ordered.
The noodles were over-cooked. The broth was that insipid sweet clear broth that can sometimes pack such a punch, but didn't at all... it didn't even taste that great when I threw in the bean sprouts, basil, culantro, chilli's and a dose of hot sauce. This was an exercise in futility. Nothing could save it.
I politely ate about half, then threw in the towel and headed back to my room. Screw the reviews, next bowl of Pho I am having is going to be at Quynh!!! The undisputed GODS OF PHO IN SAIGON!!!!!!
Being able to almost correctly judge food based on it's appearance is a tricky business. Most of the time you get surprised, but quite often you also are bang on. After clambering on the back of a Grab Taxi Scooter and hurtling at 60mph through the insane Ho Chi Minh traffic I arrived at Phô Le. A local favourite. I was excited to see what all the fuss was about since the reviews online were generally flattering and trustworthy.
I'm beginning to see a pattern developing when locals recommend something in Vietnam. They prefer the "weaker, thinner broth" whereas I prefer the bolder, deeper flavours of Phô Quynh. The Phô ended up squarely in the middle of the pack, the broth was almost tasteless, the noodles on point, the meat a slight improvement on a couple of other spots, and the price was agreeable. However, like in Japan where most locals enjoy really really heavy/fatty Tonkotsu, the Vietnamese seem to prefer the lighter things in life, and that just ain't my bag baby.
Short blog posts about my daily bowls.