A beginner's guide to eating pho (if you really must ask)
Ah, pho—the Vietnamese rice-noodle soup that, aside from myself, is the country’s greatest export. (Although technically I’m American by birth. Which would mean that my parents and their squishy genes are the country’s greatest export, but that’s a birds-and-bees discussion for a different day.) But let’s be clear here. I do not know karate. Nor do I play the violin. And honestly my math skills are only so-so. But as a small Asian girl, I do know this: I was born to eat smelly, exotic foods with hard-to-pronounce names. Specifically this means that I know how to eat pho—and I get asked about it all the time.
Admittedly, pho is getting so widespread that soon it’ll be about as foreign as overstuffed burritos. Parallel 17 on Cap Hill serves up a heaping, two-person portion of the stuff as a daily lunch special; as a bonus, the restaurant also sells “I Love Pho” tees for $25 a pop. Karma Asian on South Broadway has a delicious vegetarian version that, arguably, is better than the real thing. And, of course, any one of the pho specialty restaurants on South Federal (Pho Duy, Pho 79, and so on) can provide a truly authentic bowl on the cheap. Yes, pho is everywhere. Yet the dish itself, with its many garnishes and utensils, still manages to confound many Americans who are unsure of how exactly the dish is supposed to be eaten.
Truth is, there is no hard-fast right (or wrong) way to do it. I eat mine sans greens and veggies, and with lots of hoisin sauce and Sriracha on the side for dipping, which is not exactly the most traditional manner. The appeal of pho is that there are an endless array of options, none of them bad. There are, however, ways to maximize your pho experience:
- Double-fisting is key. Chopsticks go in your right hand, spoon in the left. You can twirl noodles with one and sip broth with the other. Ambidexterity makes you look like a native eater, but it’s also practical.
- Mix it up. Whether you top your pho with Thai basil, bean sprouts, tripe, or chicken livers, you need to stir that stuff around. The secret to good pho is heat—it’s the warm broth that softens the cold, crisp veggies and cooks the thinly sliced, rare steak that most pho bowls are topped with. See, you weren’t just getting served raw meat after all.
- Don’t forget the lime. It’s not just for tequila shots, folks. Lime isn’t too common in many American dishes, but its acidic tang is great for balancing out the beefiness of pho. Do what my mom does: Wait until the end, when there’s only a bowl of broth left, then squeeze in a bit of lime and slurp until you see the porcelain bottom.
There you go—now you know how to eat pho. So, please, stop asking me.
