I was on assignment last visit to Phnom Penh Noodle House, so I didn’t get to try the legendary bone soup. The server smiled when I placed my order, as if welcoming me to the club of insiders.

My soup appeared in mere moments. In front of me was a small bowl of broth with giant pork neck bone pieces protruding from it. The meat simply slides off the bone, and is tender and flavorful. And don’t overlook the broth. Spiked with a little green onion and cilantro, it’s a clear soup that is refreshingly meaty and oh-so-comforting.

A second server suggested a bowl of rice to go with it, as that’s an order she gets from customers who find it enough for a meal. Not a bad idea, though not a very good bowl of rice. But if you ask nice, you just might be able to get another bowl of broth.

Dish:

Place: Phnom Penh Noodle House, International District, Seattle

Price: $6.50

In the Bowl: Per the menu: “Cambodian spiced beef stew and tendon served with wide rice noodles.”

Supporting Cast: A plate of bean sprouts (they’ll ask if you want them raw or steamed) with a lemon wedge.

What to do: Toss in as many sprouts as you’d like, squeeze in lemon if desired, and add spice from the spice caddy. (I prefer the chili oil over the Sriracha.)

Noodling around: I’m a sucker for wide noodles, which is why I chose the goo nam noodle over the more popular Phnom Penh special rice noodle, which my companion ordered. I actually liked hers better, as the broth had a nice, clean taste (especially after a squirt of lemon boosted the acidity), and the pork and seafood components played off against each other well.

That said, I did enjoy much about the goo nam. The soup was mellower than expected, with just a slight spicy tang at the end, which I’d attribute to the chilies and lemongrass in the broth. (The chilies and lemondgrass are apparently processed with peanuts, sesame seeds, garlic, shallots, and much more). Some might like the stewed beef to be slightly more tender, but I was especially thrilled with the melt-in-your-mouth pieces of tendon–happy to know that if I ever lose my teeth, I’ll still be able to enjoy this fatty goodness.

As for those wide noodles, they were good, but they can be a challenge to eat. You can feel the slipperiness in your mouth, and you can experience it on your chopsticks as you struggle to corral some together. This struggle often ends in noodle withdrawal, splashing back into the soup resulting in liquid spraying your shirt. My advice: Ask some waribashi (disposable chopsticks) made from bamboo or wood. (Or, bring them yourself.)They have better grip, and you’ll more easily get your noodles.

If still hungry: You shouldn’t be surprised that I was naturally drawn to the pork intestine, either fried or with herbed soy sauce ($8.50), or, even better, pork bung mustard green (braised pork intestine with seasoned mustard greens for $8.49–one cent cheaper!). But I’d ultimately recommend finishing your meal with durian custard and sweet rice ($4.00), as it’s not often you can find durian dessert around here. Also, I love that Phnom Penh has Italian sodas (in a number of berrylicious flavors) here. Maybe I missed something while pursuing my history degree: Is there a connection between Cambodia and Italy?

Be aware/beware: In this era of “secret menus,” note that you can go off-menu and order the legendary “bone soup.” There’s some code of secrecy about this, so I leave it up to you to pursue this if you please.

Perusing the picturesque menu, we really wanted to order the Chocolate Rice Soup, but Seattlest’s dining companions just weren’t biting on it. Guess they don’t see the humor in calling organ meats “chocolate.” We’re still not sure what it’s all about, but we’ll find out another time. So still wanting our daily dose of offal, our eyes wandered past plain ol’ Chicken Laab (#83 on the menu) and lit up at #83a: Laab made with chicken and beef tripe.

Laab is a Southeast Asian regional dish made from shredded, thinly sliced or minced meat (raw or cooked) combined with chili, mint, fish sauce and lime. The Cambodian version we tried included toasted rice, lettuce, cabbage, cucumbers, bell peppers and cilantro. We scoured the Internet and found this pictorial recipe (which includes instruction to “pull your hair back in a bun”).

While we had a few other dishes of interest (including chaa lout with its worm-like noodles, and a sour duck soup), the Laab was by far our favorite. It had the most complexity, with sweet, sour, salty and spicy singing out in perfect harmony. But beyond the taste, the dish had texture – largely due to the tripe. Have we had a bad dish with tripe in it? We’re convinced tripe’s is a can’t-go-wrong ingredient, soaking up flavors and giving its textural gift with every bite. As tempted as we were to order that Chocolate Rice Soup for dessert, the Laab was a fine way to end the meal; from one stomach to our own, a mound of tripe will always be our mountain of joy.

Originally posted at Seattlest (where “we” = me) on September 21, 2007.