First of all, its not pronounced like ‘faux’. I know this is elementary soup-talk, but it’s important that you know this. It’s more like,’fuh?’
Washington Ave. in Philadelphia is home to countless vietnamese restaurants, each with their own offerings and ambiances. While, I’m almost positive that all of these places obtain their ingredients from the same Asian Supermarket, (also on Washington Ave.) the region’s pho is not the same.
What are things I look for in a phosperience?
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Consistency
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Essential toppings (hoisin, Sriracha, Japanese basil, bean sprouts, and lime)
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Efficiency
Eating pho is very ritualistic. Everyone has their own method, and I, personally, don’t like that getting phocked up. I order either brisket or chicken, sometimes with spring rolls, sometimes an avocado smoothie, and I receive my toppings almost immediately. I sip the free dirtywater tea and begin inhaling the steam to prepare myself for the hot mess that will soon become of my sinus system.
When my pho comes, I use one of those lovely asian spoons (which are so much more utilitarian than shitty American spoons) to sip the broth several times. I’m very careful not to burn my mouth by sucking it down my esophagus to numb it before I scorch it with wet noodles. After a few steaming gulps, I add my toppings meticulously. I then take chopsticks, stick them into the noodles and wiggle to looses them up. I do this until i can successfully scoop them out of the soup.
At this point, my face is one inch from my food, and I am shoveling the contents of the bathtub-sized bowl in my face. I do not stop eating until I cannot any longer. Sometimes, I finish the bowl. Most times, it is impossible. I sit back, view my progress, then pay my tab. Usually about $9.75.
Pho should be simple. To say they all taste the same is silly. It isn’t how the noodles taste, but how the bowl of soup makes you feel: whole.
Poopy Soup 