pho fantasy

If there is one soup I can't ever live without, that brings so much hot, slurpy, soupy pleasure to my life, and has even brought a tear of joy to my eye, is the mighty, unequivocal, irresistible pho. I love this soup. No, you don't understand. I LOVE this soup. Ever since I tasted what I consider to be the original pho back in 2009, I have dreamed of trying to recreate it; that full, deeply flavourful broth, the green, lively herbs brightening up the taste of the soft and yielding rice noodles, the paper thin beef slices cooking instantly from the ladles of hot broth showered on them... I could write an ode to this soup. But instead, as is customary on this blog of mine, I will show you how I made some pho 'fo my fine self!


Using and adapting a recipe found on epicurious.com, here's what happened.
 

Charring onions and ginger. I imagine that back in the day, pho would have been made over an open fire, thus making it quite easy to blacken the onions and ginger. The modern version saw me broiling these guys until they got smokey and black. Then I peeled them and they went into the stock pot.

Toasting the spices to go into the broth. Do not underestimate the power of a medium heat applied to fragrant cloves, anise seeds and cinnamon. By throwing this trifecta of deliciousness into a hot pan, you release all of its oils and somehow, the secrets of the universe come wafting into your nostrils. You smell this, and you just KNOW it's going to taste good. These spices go into cheesecloth and basically brew in the beef stock, elevating a beef bone tea into delicious pho juice. 

Starting the broth. Beware, this blog is becoming very very non vegetarian. After a visit to the local butchers, where we bought some beef bones, some flank roast, and some sirloin, we came home and started the broth.

The broth takes hours, people. Hours wherein you skim the scum and fat from the liquid, transforming bones and bringing them one step closer to some Vietnamese fantasy.

 
Repeat after me: Pho juice! Pho juice! Pho juice! The broth's been strained, the cheesecloth with spice trifecta has been removed, and it's piping hot, ready to be made into pho.



This isn't just about the beef broth and the noodles. Oh, no. Pho is all about the garnishes. When I ponder the mysteries of the beautiful pho, I realize that it's the perfect combination of soup AND salad in one bowl. 

 
When I was in Vietnam I was amazed at the variety of greens that you could throw into your bowl: mustard greens, dandelion leaves, mint, holy basil, coriander, beansprouts...and those greens just kept on coming, appearing in huge wet piles on white plastic dinner plates. 

 
You mustn't forget about balancing the flavours with some lime, chillies, hoisin and hot sauces too!





Steamed some properly cut (lengthwise!) baby bok choi to add even more greenery to the pho.

 
Pho assembly line action. Getting all the ingredients in the bowl before pouring the broth.

  That flank roast bubbled away in the stock pot for over four hours. It tasted like heavenly cows. Please note the raw, paper-thin sirloin. Just a bit in the bowl, save some for the others!



My bowl, post-garnishing. I was so excited to finally taste it!

Ah...perfectly nourishing, just the right amount of heavy and light, of crisp and soft, of spice and sweetness. If this soup was a gesture, it would be a hug.

Food Memories: Vietnam

Vietnam was a mixed bag in terms of travel and overall vibe but the food was something other worldly. Never mind that the dishes are being washed on the sidewalk in a bucket in front of the restaurant, or that you have to use the toilet in said restaurant while being eyed by a giant cockroach. I had some of the best meals of my life here.

Fried Crab stuffed in its own shell, prawn cocktail, australian shiraz aboard a junk ship, Halong Bay. I'm undressing those darling crabs with my eyes and just can't wait to get my hands on them. This was a very impressive meal made all the more delicious because of the view. We spent 24 glorious hours sailing around and meanwhile the crew was preparing our meals in a tiny galley kitchen.
Fish croquettes, Halong Bay. Look at the beautiful edible garnishes!

Baked Snapper, Halong Bay. The croquettes and the fish were part of a 5 course dinner.


Traditional Egg Pancake, Hue. This ultra light and crispy egg pancake contained goodies like shrimp, bean sprout and veggies with some greens on the side.

The legendary Pho 2000 restaurant in Ho Chi Min City, Vietnam. Can you feel the anticipation and excitement!?

Mixed seafood Pho at Pho 2000. This is seriously the BEST pho I have ever tasted. When the soup was served, it was accompanied with dinner plates full of greens: Mustard, dandelion, basil, mint and lots of others I didn't recognise. You grab a handful and throw it on the soup. Soup and salad in one bowl? I was in heaven!


Beef Pho, Hanoi. This was my last breakfast of the Vietnam part of my trip. The restaurant was in the district where they make and sell funeral flower arrangements. Hanoi is interesting as a city because certain streets will all sell the same stuff: Plumbing goods street, Textiles street, Bicycle street, Funeral flowers street, and so on. So beef soup for breakfast it was. This was definitely an "authentic" experience. There were no Westerners about, this restaurant serves only this dish, and it's so popular you get touts on the street who offer to go and get the soup for you at a premium. The soup was fragrant and flavorful, but the meat as you can see was pretty rare and very stringy. It was weird to be eating soup at 8 am with an iced Vietnamese coffee.

In the background you can see the funeral flower arrangements and you can see some on the motorbike ready for delivery.