Dish:

In the bowl: Pictured is #20: pho tai, nam, gau, gan, sach with rare beef, well-done flank, fatty flank, tendon and tripe along with banh pho rice noodles, onions, green onions, and beef broth

Supporting cast/What to do: Before your bowl comes out, you’ll get the “accessory” plate with bean sprouts, jalapeno slices, Thai basil, lime wedges. Add these to your heart’s desire, along with Sriracha, hoison sauce, and/or chili oil that’s found on your table.

Noodling around: This is the 38th Mein Man column, and it’s the very first one to feature pho. This Vietnamese noodle soup is one of my favorite quick meals in Seattle, and there are certainly many places to get it.

Part of the appeal is that pho is “fast food.” Order, and it comes quickly, as the broth has been simmering for so long, and the thin-sliced meat in your customized order cooks almost instantaneously.

Another thing I love about pho is the interactivity. You can change the flavor of the bowl along the way by altering the acidity, spice level, etc. with the garnishes and sauces.

Also, there are so variations of pho bowls. Pho So 1 has twenty types of pho. Most are pho bo, the beef variety, with a wide combination of beef cuts. I generally choose the one with the most meats, excluding the meat ball, whose taste and texture I find unappealing. I especially love the tendon for its fattiness and the tripe for its chewiness. (It’s hard to find these two items at pho restaurants in America’s heartland.) And the variety enables each slurp and spoonful to offer something different.

Pho So 1 serves some of the best “low-cost” (cheap Vietnamese joint) pho I’ve had in Seattle. The broth is flavorful and tastes fresh, with a depth of beefiness and spices.

If you want more: You can order your bowl with extra meat, meat balls, or noodles for an extra $1.00 each. But if you’re looking for something different (this is one of the places that doesn’t give you a cream puff), I recommend a couple of rolls–either the fresh spring rolls, or the crispy egg and pork rolls if you want something fried (both are $3.19 for a pair).

Be aware/beware: The bun bo hue here is very good, and there are even kid portions of noodles available. It’s a fun place for the family, with a large fish tank in the entry, and yet another of the good restaurants on the ground level of this Asian shopping plaza. (Recall that Hue Ky Mi Gia is here, and that parking in the garage below the street can be a nightmare.)

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on January 30, 2012.

Dish:

In the bowl: Free-range chicken broth with a leg-thigh section of braised duck, noodles, shiitake mushrooms, baby bok choy, green onions, Chinese red dates (hong zao, or jujubes), and “five spice” seasoning.

Supporting cast: The soup comes with a small plate of picked carrots and papaya on the side. Otherwise, nothing, unless you’d like to spice up your soup with Sriracha sauce or chili oil, which you’ll find on the table.

What to do: Pull apart pieces of duck with your chopsticks for bites, alternating with slurps of noodles and spoonfuls of the flavorful broth. The carrots and papaya provide a nice counterpoint to the duck.

Noodling around: You get your choice of noodles, but the recommended and popular type is thin egg noodles (dried). There are also thicker egg noodles, which I generally prefer in other dishes, along with rice noodles and rice vermicelli.

It looks like you’ll need to lift the entire duck piece with your chopsticks, but it’s actually quite tender, falling easily off the bone. It’s also delicious, with notes of ginger and honey. The slightly sweet and certainly savory broth is flavorful and doesn’t really need anything additional, especially if you want to appreciate the five-spice seasoning. The soup is good anytime of the year, but is especially comforting in winter.

The jujubes are used extensively in Chinese medicine, as they’re said to calm the mind, nourish the blood, fight against fatigue and poor appetite, protect against toxins, and boost Vitamin C.

If you want more: Look around and you’ll find everyone eating canh ga chien bo (chicken wings deep fried in butter). You’ll find these much-acclaimed wings ($7.00) in the appetizer part of the menu. The slightly thick breading works well in this dish, resulting in wings encrusted with garlic, green onion, chili, and salt. Eat as is, or swipe in the tangy dipping sauce that comes with them.

Be aware/beware: The “Hue” in the restaurant’s name is grandpa’s name, and not the Vietnamese city. “Mi gia” means “noodle house.” There are two restaurants in this family business. One is inside the Great Wall Mall in Renton. If, like me, you visit the one in the Little Saigon, be forewarned that it’s best to park on the surface if possible. I’ve been trapped in the garage below and once waited twenty minutes to get out due to traffic and challenging parking conditions. Also note that the restaurant is extremely popular, which can mean cramped quarters and occasional waits. Those waits are worthwhile, though, for quality food, reasonable prices, and friendly service.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on December 19, 2011.

Dish:

In the bowl: From the menu: “Imperial roll, grilled white prawn, grass-fed beef bo mo chai, cucumber, rau thom.” This and more (see below) over cold rice vermicelli noodles.

Supporting cast: A side of nuoc cham (made with nuoc mam, a.k.a. fish sauce).

What to do: Pour the nuoc cham sauce over the top, mix as much as you’d like, and then start pulling items out of the bowl–a little of this and a little of that in each bite.

Noodling around: The cold vermicelli dishes enticed me immediately, as they’re perfect for summer nights. They’re made with rice vermicelli noodles (sometimes called rice sticks, or bun in Vietnamese) which are thin, so they get boiled quickly then cooled. These noodles are a great vehicle for a variety of toppings. As I couldn’t get the complete story from my server about the specials, I decided to simply try the “Combo Vermicelli” for some surf and turf tasting.

The beef sausage (bo mo chai, typically wrapped in lard) was bursting with flavor, and I appreciated the good grillwork on the shrimp–though I wondered if they were from a sustainable source. Departing from what was stated on the menu, there was a nice piece of grilled chicken as well. The imperial rolls added crispy texture to the dish. In addition to the advertised cucumbers, I found carrots, bean sprouts, and peanuts. I would have liked just a little more rau thom (Vietnamese herbs) to add flavoring, and a little more nuoc cham to lubricate the whole affair.

If you want more: With little yet up at Ba Bar’s website, I found a menu online elsewhere and had hopes for a grapefruit salad (with avocado and xi muoi–or Vietnamese preserved plums). But that has fallen off the menu (which understandably is getting tweaked), so I instead chose the Hue dumplings, also known as banh bot loc chay ($6). These mochi-like dumplings with mung beans, caramelized shallot, and spicy soy vinaigrette were appropriately chewy, but a bit wanting for flavor. (I’d prefer banh bot loc, made with shrimp and pork.) The grilled sardine with cucumber salad and dry shrimp ($8) I spotted at the next table looked more promising.

Be aware/beware: This is the fifth of Eric Banh’s restaurants, whose hand already held a pair of Monsoons and a pair of Baguette Boxes. Ba Bar (”Ba” means father in Vietnamese) has a noodle bar and street food feel. The space is compelling, starting with a fun glimpse of the kitchen (and rotisserie chickens) upon entry. I like the concept, which is casual and affordable, with a beautiful bar in the dining room.

The early problem is service. I’d read bad reports, and my experience was no different. I felt like I was part of a comedy troupe skit exaggerating restaurant mistakes–and yet it was all too real. Yes, yes, Ba Bar just opened earlier in the month. But just about every aspect of the dining experience ran afoul, from the server not knowing the dishes on the menu (or the ingredients in the dishes), to the poor timing of orders arriving at the table, to the clearing of items without asking, to a mis-delivery of dumplings after I had paid the bill. Seems the staff needed more training, or the restaurant needed a more prolonged soft opening. Reports are that Banh has his hands full trying to right the ship.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on July 19, 2011.

Yesterday I posted pictures of pig-filled plates outside of Seattle, and promised you local options. Here they are. Most are Asian, with appreciation of the utilization of as much of the animal as possible. Pictured above is bopis, which is a spicy and vinegary saute of pork heart and lungs. I recently discovered bopis at Family Time Restaurant in Shoreline, where it’s a special served on weekends only. The textures of this dish, as with all the offal dishes I’ll mention, are part of what make it special. Bopis reminds me of dinuguan–pork blood stew, another favorite of mine. (It typically has pork liver, and I’ve had versions with pig ears and intestines.)

Speaking of pork blood, another favorite is the Vietnamese soup called bun bo hue. I like the version (and the atmosphere) at Hoang Lan by the Othello Station light rail stop. Bun bo hue feature rice noodles (spaghetti-like) in beef broth with braised beef, pork blood cakes, pork liver, and a pork hock. To this you add the accompanying bean sprouts, shredded cabbage, sliced banana blossoms, cilantro, jalapeno, and lime. This noodle bowl is perfect for both a cold, wintry day, or even a hot summer one.

The pork dish in the area with my favorite name is “The Other Parts of a Pig,” on the “Wild Side” menu at Bamboo Garden in Bellevue. It also has pork blood cakes, along with pork intestines and tofu chunks. There’s pickled cabbage and a tangy broth. You can ask them to make it as fiery as you can handle. As you can see from the photo, I say the redder, the better. There are some other adventurous dishes on that Wild Side menu, so I encourage you to explore.

Looking for something more “mainstream”? I thought back over the years, and the pork dish that stands out most in my mind is a Carleton Farms pork chop that Renee Erickson prepared at Boat Street Cafe. Erickson’s famous for her pickles, and here the pickled raisins packed a powerful punch. And the layers of mild-tasting leeks mixed with Beecher’s cheddar cheese made the dish all-the-more decadent.

Dish:

Place: Thanh Thao in Columbia City, Seattle

Price: $6.95

In the Bowl: The menu advertises it as “mashed pork-pie, ham, pig’s feet and vermicelli spicy soup.”

Supporting Cast: A side dish of bean sprouts, shredded cabbage, a few strips of iceberg lettuce, Thai basil, banana blossom, jalapeno, and lemon.

What to do: Add whatever you like from the side dish into the bowl. I personally toss in everything except for some of the sprouts, as I’m not a sprout lover. I squeeze the jalapeno with my chopsticks to extract some heat out of them, but I sometimes don’t eat them. If you want more spice, there’s Sriracha and the ubiquitous chili oil in the table’s “common pantry,” where you’ll also find the chopsticks and soup spoons.

Noodling around: I can probably say this about most any bowl of noodles, but this is truly comfort food. Maybe it’s the softness of the noodles–not my favorite, for sure, but right for a reassuring moment. Or maybe it’s the mellowness of the mostly clear broth, the herbs shining through, in contrast to the more aggressive broth of bun bo hue (which I’ll discuss another time).

As for the meaty contents? The mashed pork-pie has a reconstituted texture like fishcake, and is laced with some cloud ear mushrooms. The ham is more like pate, thick-cut and satisfying. Both are soft and add to the comforting nature of the dish.

A pig’s foot would have changed that soft feeling, but there wasn’t one to be found in my bowl. Nor was there one in my Vietnamese friend’s bun bo hue, proof that this wasn’t simply a slight of the Caucasian in the house. Still, I was hoping for a hock, and hope this was just an oversight on this particular day.

If still hungry: One of my dining companions likes the dau chao quay (Chinese donuts) with many soups–but not this one. Maybe goi cuon (spring rolls, in a serving of two) for yourself at $3.95, or goi du du kho bo (jerky beef papaya salad) for the table at $6.95.

Be aware/beware: While there’s a huge menu of items numbered 1-206, go deeper into the menu and you’ll find even more dishes that are considered drinking accompaniments. Included here are offal and “exotics” like frog, alligator, and more. I’d like to come here some non-noodle night and work my way through some of the animal kingdom.

First published in Seattle Weekly’s Voracious on January 18, 2011.

More on my many Portland meals in an upcoming post. For now, I can simply report that I enjoyed my bun bo hue at HA & VL (pictured above). I’m a big fan of beef noodle soup, and the Vietnamese version is one of my favorites in the realm that country’s cuisine. One of the workers told me “our soups are home-style, not restaurant-style.” The bun bo hue was clean-tasting and fresh, with the advertised tenderloin beef and pork balls, but I was missing the pork blood cubes and beef or pig knuckle that I’m accustomed to seeing in the soup.  The lemongrass level was good, and I was able to spice up the soup with the accompanying pepper sauce and paste, both of which I used generously. The “salad” of mints, Thai basil, shredded cabbage, bean sprouts and lime also help doctor up the soup.

What I find most remarkable about HA & VL is that they offer up different soups each day of the week – and two on each weekend day. (Hence my disappointment in not returning on the recent trip, as Akiko and I were slated to go on a Sunday, with a chance to try two different soups.) I was told that the restaurant is especially popular with Portland-area chefs, so there are many familiar faces there, especially on Sunday mornings. I can see why. The workers are friendly and take pride in what they serve. (In addition to soup, you can find Vietnamese sandwiches, smoothies, coffee and bubble tea.)

While some might find the fake flowers and brightly colored chairs and walls a bit over-the-top, HA & VL is full of positive spirit – and soups worth waking up for if you have the stomach space. I will allocate such space next time, for sure.

I like Eric Banh and his crew’s creations at Monsoon and Monsoon East (though I’m not quite sure why people rave about the dim sum that’s simply brought over from a mediocre restaurant in the I.D.), but Baguette Box makes me crave banh mi…in Little Saigon. Baguette Box doesn’t even call their sandwiches banh mi (okay, they’re going for the upscale thing), and based on value, I’d rather go to Saigon Deli. Most recently, I tried the roasted pork loin sandwich, served with apricot aioli and caramelized onions. I’m sure the meat’s much better quality than what Saigon Vietnam Deli (or one of the many nearby places) serves up, but for $6.90, it was a scant portion, and the overall sandwich was actually less satisfying that what I’m accustomed to enjoying just a short drive away. (No spicy bursts from jalapeno peppers, few textural changes, etc.) And in Little Saigon, I can get three good sandwiches for the same price, plus change in my pocket.

(No photo. The worker touted the sandwich so highly that I decided to eat in rather than take it home, where I’d left my camera.)

Buddha Ruksa serves up some beautiful plates, placing it in the upper echelon of Thai restaurants in the Seattle area. Not as high as Noodle Boat in Issaquah, which might be the best around, but certainly a solid choice and worth a try in West Seattle. I especially like that they offer a selection of trout dishes, including an interesting skin-on trout salad.

For pho, there are so many choices in town. And many of those places have numbers in their names, which made me interested in finding out why. More straightforward is the use of a number in Time 4 Pho, Magnolia’s pho joint. There’s a fuller menu that includes salads, vermicelli bowls, and rice plates, but I was there for the $7 large bowl of pho that came with a choice of meats and use of the pho condiment bar.

The Signature opened in the old Moxie space in lower Queen Anne. It’s a family-run operation, with friendly folks who are working seemingly endless hours to bring some new dishes to this part of town. (They also have seemingly endless happy hours. After lunch, all but 6-8pm is happy hour?)

But I’m not sure whether the soup bowls are an indictment on the restaurant, or its customers. The pho ($8 small, $9 large) broth isn’t bad, though I can travel and get something better for half the price. And those bowls will include choices that go beyond rare beef, well-done beef, and beef meatballs. Where’s my tendon and tripe, providing textures and tastes that I love in pho?

Then there’s the bun bo Hue, which The Signature calls “spicy beef rice noodle soup” ($10). Again, it’s got good flavor, and I’ve seen other customers enjoying it. But I missed the congealed pork blood cubes and pork feet–or at least a hock–that make this bowl beautifully special. (And that I can enjoy by driving to the south of Seattle.)

The Signature says that they fear people won’t eat these soups as they’re meant to be served. I say that omitting these key ingredients is dumbing the dishes down, and not allowing people to discover a bowl of dreams.

End of rant, except to add that after all these months, I don’t understand why a quote from the PR firm representing The Signature appears on their “reviews” webpage. That makes the Yelp quotes seem, well, credible.

Is it better Vietnamese soups you’re seeking? Get to the International District or further south on Rainier, and you’ll find some restaurants offering good ones. But one I’ll miss is Tu Oanh, which offered some delicious bowls until it closed recently. I liked the Hu Tieu Nam Vang Nuoc/Kho (Cambodian rice noodle soup) with its ground pork, fish meatball, prawn, and “meat load” (I couldn’t resist sharing that typo!), but even better was the Bun Mang Vit – a noodle soup with fresh baby bamboo shoots and cabbage salad with herbs, fried shallots, and bone-in duck breast, served with a sauce that contained grated ginger.

Transitioning to Chinese food, I checked out the recently opened Noodle King upon hearing that they offer hand-pulled noodles. For $2, it’s fun to watch the noodle show, but the Taiwanese beef noodle soup was disappointing, as the broth was weak.

Chiang’s Gourmet receives much fanfare, especially from folks on the northside who don’t want to travel to the International District or Bellevue for Chinese food. I’ve had brunch there and found it consistently, well, brown. Not bad, but as with all the other dim sum places in the area, not compelling enough to make me return. I continue to hold off on dim sum until I get north of the border to Richmond. Dinner offers a variety of Chinese fare, from congee with pork and egg preserved in lime to tea-smoked duck to stuffed bittermelon. Overall, the dishes are a mixed bag, though I do like that they serve “steamed tofu of strong odor” (stinky tofu).

One of my favorite restaurant find, courtesy of food-loving friends, is Ton Kiang B.B.Q. Noodle House in the International District. The modest little restaurant is basically a brother and sister act delivering quality dishes at quaint prices. There are soups (noodle and otherwise) and other items on the menu, but the real reason to come here is the beauty of the meats. There’s roasted and BBQ pig and duck, but my favorite is the poached chicken. Given my love of spicy food, my love of this subtle dish might come as a bit of a surprise, but the chicken, which is free-range (!), is simply delicious. Oh…and the sauce that accompanies it spices it up nicely. Seriously good stuff.

And finally, on the BBQ front, way back when I visited Old Village Korean BBQ Restaurant. The service was strange and the music mix from Michael Bolton to Led Zeppelin was even stranger. The food was okay. I’ve found better Korean food in Federal Way, and have a few new places on the to-do list. We did a lot of grilling; after all, who can resist “born less short rips”?

(The words don’t rhyme, by the way.)

I understand the excitement. It’s nice to have a taste of the International District downtown. We’ve got the recently reviewed Thoa’s slightly south of Pike Place Market, and now we’ve got Long Provincial Vietnamese Restaurant and Jelly Bar, just to the north.

Long is the sister restaurant of the beloved Tamarind Tree—Tam Nguyen’s effort to bring a little elegance to Little Saigon. Nguyen’s trying to do the same in the old Qube space. The good news: Long’s food isn’t divided into thirds, like that quirky Qube concept. And many of the Tamarind Tree’s delightful dishes are on the menu.

The not-so-good news: I don’t like how they’ve redone the space. Despite its faults, the Qube dining room was open and airy. But instead of an improvement, dining at Long seems dark and disconnected.

And what’s with all the Caucasian servers? One thing I especially like about Vietnamese restaurants in Little Saigon is that the workers tend to be…Vietnamese. They usually know the culture and cuisine. But if not for the uniforms, I would think that the people who greet me inside Long’s lovely front door are part of an after-work group gathering for cocktails. Nice enough, but not knowledgeable enough about the menu. Granted, there’s a lot to learn upon opening (and the menu is long and unwieldy), but as it’s not the food these folks grew up on, I fear they won’t ever have the insight on ingredients and preparation that I benefit from when I’m served by Vietnamese people.

Truth is, Tamarind Tree had numerous kitchen and service issues for many months after opening. Hopefully Nguyen will improve things at Long as he did at Tamarind Tree. My biggest concern, though, is that being downtown and with a different clientele, Long will dumb the dishes down. Oh, I was glad to see items like the awkwardly named baby clam rice cracker on the menu, but what I’ve tasted so far at Long has been a bit bland, and not bold like the flavors I favor at Tamarind Tree. And where was the bun bo Hue? Would Nguyen’s workers be willing to pig out on pork blood cubes? Or are they the type that would prefer to be hanging out in Long’s lounge drinking cocktails?

Don’t get me wrong; I want Long to survive and thrive. But bordering on Belltown, I don’t want to see it become another lounge destination. To be a dining destination that will stay long on my radar, I hope Long will serve up those pork blood cubes and other provincial specialties in their purist fashion.