Reviews. I love reading them. Movies, books, television shows, and of course, restaurants. I will always read a review of something I’ve consumed before or after consumption. I like getting the lay of the land or seeing if my thoughts are similar to others.
I greatly appreciate criticism, but I think it is a dying art. Our growing emphasis on the plurality of voices has (rightly) questioned the position and credibility of the critic and their review. Especially when it comes to food and restaurants.
How does one write about the food from a culture that is not theirs let alone judge it? It is one thing to try and gain as much knowledge about the food as possible, but it is another to assess it. Reviewing the restaurant as a whole is more complex than just letting others know if the food is good or not. And again, isn’t good unique to each person?
The levelling (annihilating) of the criticism playing field with a site like Yelp, Google reviews, or the ascendency of TikTok sensation Keith Lee, leaves us in a strange moment of not knowing who to trust for advice but also trusting no one.
When it comes to figuring out where I want to eat here or elsewhere, I try to find articles or reviews, but I do rely a lot on Google reviews, the Instagram accounts of friends or strangers, a little bit of TikTok, and a little bit of word of mouth. I try to do as much cross-checking as I can between them all to determine if it’s a restaurant I want to visit.
I am in a place where I can honestly say that outside of international-publication-type critics whose writing can illuminate and persuade, there is only a handful of people I know worldwide whose “this is good” restaurant recommendation I hand-on-bible trust. Not because I think others like “bad” food, but rather because I know our tastes are too dissimilar.
That is why I have tried to be as clear as possible about my HCMC Restaurant List; I have tried to be clear that it is not a list of best or essential, only of what I have liked. I write what I have time for about places that I like. I try my best to articulate why I like the places and dishes I do, giving an opportunity for a reader to better understand if we’d be food friends.
One thing that I’ve struggled with while living in Saigon is how best to write about the Vietnamese food I eat. It is ridiculous for me to assess good or bad as I didn’t grow up eating and understanding the food. All I can do is write or talk about the why’s of I like something in terms of general flavour rather than “correct” flavour.
The longer I’ve been here, however, I’ve felt increasingly embarrassed that I’m not as familiar with Vietnamese food as others may expect someone to be after a 21-month residency. My internal defence is that I didn’t move to Saigon to move to Vietnam. I moved for the chance to live in a big, bustling, international city in Asia, full of all kinds of food, including Vietnamese. But still. When I do eat local food, I don’t have enough experience to assess or feel confident in my own feelings.
So, I thought that I could start to gain more experience by starting a little dining out project where I try the same dish from two restaurants. A tiny sample size, to be sure, but it wouldn’t be achievable if I increased it, to be sure. The goal is to understand differences and similarities between cooks so that I can better understand the dish and what I like about it. It would make me less ignorant when writing about Vietnamese food, but it would also make me a less ignorant resident of Vietnam. The ignorance is the heart of my embarrassment.
My intention is for any judgment to be based on my existing preferences. Literally “I like/don’t like this because of my…” as I will never truly know how things are supposed to taste. And if we’re forever plagued by everyone being a critic and taste being subjective, is “supposed to taste” even a real thing?
Let’s put aside the existentialism for the inaugural project iteration: phở bò (beef phở).
It is a lie to write that this is the project’s first dish because it is one of the most well-known Vietnamese dishes worldwide. It was an obvious first contender because of that, but I chose phở first partly because there are many notable phở restaurants less than a five-minute walk from my apartment. If you’re unfamiliar with the dish, here is an easy-to-read phở primer in English from Vietnamese-American writer Andrea Nguyen. I won’t be getting into the fray about Southern/Northern styles at all. I live in the South, so that’s the style I was served.
Shops
Staying close to home was convenient, and I had my pick between a Michelin mention, crowd favourites, and a historically notable restaurant. My Phở 1 bowl was from a spot that is always busy and hugely popular with both locals and tourists, including another location elsewhere. It’s a proper sit-down restaurant with full-sized tables and chairs and air conditioning. You won’t find it mentioned in the Michelin Guide, but I chose it for my sample because I was told it’s better than the neighbourhood spot that is in the guide. This shop was also once suggested to me by a student because they offer stone-bowl phở. That style is where your phở is a bubbling baby cauldron of broth where you then add the meat, noodles, and veg as you wish, similar to hot pot. I just went for a standard bowl.
Phở 2 was going to the be the Michelin mention, but after reading a blog post, I switched it to a neighbourhood newcomer. It is also one that has popular locations in other parts of the city. It similarly is air-conditioned with regular restaurant seating. I’ve watched it go from near empty when it first opened to always having customers, most especially on weekend mornings.
I pass both regularly when I’m walking around the neighbourhood. What I’ve noticed in terms of customer base is in addition to the tourists, Phở 1 seems a place that families like. That would jive with one of my young students recommending it. Phở 2 has been skewing singles and couples in their 20s.
Expectations
I’ve had phở enough times in my life to know what it tastes like. When I travelled to Vietnam in 2009, I even took part in making some when I took a cooking class in Hoi An. I say it in jest, but what I do really like about phở is how the aroma reminds me of Christmas. I’m a fan of all the spices that go into the bone broth and while eating, encourage cozy vibes. This was much more appealing during an Edmonton winter than here in Saigon’s heat. So beyond hoping that the broths would be highly aromatic, I had no expectations, and really, the point of this project is to explore my lack.
Order
When I’m able to choose what I eat, I’m not very adventurous when it comes to cuts of meat. If I’m presented with more novel ones in like a set menu, I always partake. But my internal instincts play it safe. So my standard order is phở tái nạm, with tái being thinly sliced rare, eye-of-round steak, and nạm being thinly sliced, cooked flank—but fattier than flank North Americans usually think of. I ordered the largest of three sizes at Phở 1, and the largest of two at Phở 2. The difference in price was minimal.
Both were served with a large plate of fresh herbs that also had cut limes and fresh chiles. A plate of bean sprouts also comes with, and at both shops the sprouts were steamed (thankfully my preference).
The tables of both restaurants contained trays of all the other condiments you might want to dress your bowl with, such as garlic vinegar, and to dip your meat in. The condiment containers at both shops were neat and very clean—no crusty bits on the jar rims or bottle nozzles. I’ll also note that ordering at both was easy as their menus have English translations and pictures.
Broth
Figuring I’d forget the tastes or wouldn’t write good notes upon returning home, I ate the bowls 48 hours apart to help keep things top of mind for my comparison. I honestly thought the differences between the two bowls would be negligible, and I’m glad I was wrong.
It is obvious just from looking at the photos how much lighter Phở 1’s broth was compared to Phở 2’s. I’ve since read that a darker broth can be the result of more charring on the onions and ginger that help flavour the broth. Phở 2’s broth wasn’t heavy by any means, but the murkier broth translated to a much saltier and robust tasting one for me. Phở 1’s broth was much sweeter and dare I say blander in comparison; I ended up being heavier handed with the fresh chiles, lime squeezes, and garlic to give it more oopmh. Perhaps I’m supposed to say that the clarity and lightness means it’s “cleaner,” but I don’t know enough about broth making or phở making to know if that’s what’s going on here.
Often seen in Google reviews here in Vietnam are complaints around things tasting too salty or suspicions around MSG being added. I like salt and MSG, maybe too much, and if they are what made Phở 2’s broth taste the way it did, cool. The flavour punched me in the face much more than that of Phở 1. When it comes to noodle soups here, I’ve much preferred my bowls of bún bò Huế and bún riêu to ones of phở, because I find their broths more compelling and complex. But the broth of Phở 2 with its stronger umami flavour had me thinking that there might be phở out there that I’m less apathetic about. This would be a broth I would want when sick.
Noodles
This was a fun point to compare because the rice noodles are made fresh at Phở 1. The person making them has a station along the windows of the shop, and it’s easy to see the process when walking by or if you sit on their side of the restaurant. The freshness meant they were very soft and silky, exactly what I don’t like about rice noodles. Being cut by hand meant that the width of the noodles varied; most were wide like fettuccine, but the last cut might be as thin as spaghetti.
I don’t know if noodles should be assumed to always be fresh (because this is Vietnam) at a phở shop, or if dried rice noodles might be used, too. Getting fresh rice noodles is easy here, so I’ve wondered if restaurants who don’t make their own have a certain nearby purveyor. Thus, I can’t tell you much about the noodles of Phở 2 other than they were noticeably different. They would have been machine cut, as they had a uniform, square, spaghetti alla chitarra shape. They were also thinner. I enjoyed them much more. They were not as soft, and a mouthful of them was a satisfying slurp-and-chew for me.
Meat
I am someone who often saves favourite parts of a plate for last. I don’t necessarily eat one thing at a time from least to most favourite, but I will definitely ensure that there is more most fave toward the end than least. I absolutely eat all of my noodle soups backwards, trying to slurp down as much of the broth (least fave) first, so that it’s mostly noodles and toppings left at the end.
This means that by the time I get to my rare tái, it’s fully cooked and a little tough. There was no difference for me between the two bowls when it came to the steak. But the nạm/flank were not similar. The flank of Phở 1 was fattier and not uniform in size or shape; that of Phở 2 was leaner and slices were almost perfect rectangles. Both tasted good, but I liked the texture of Phở 1’s more. It was more meltingly tender, and the fat came off in bits and bobs that gave a little of the gelatinous mouthfeel that I don’t want to commit to with some of the other cuts of meat you can get.
Takeaways
So, I think I can say I like my phở bowl to contain a salty broth, thin noodles, and some fatty meat. I’m glad that the quality and presentation of the herbs and sprouts were the same. Phở 2 has me wanting another bowl from them, so I’m pleased it’s so close. I was expecting to take another year-plus break from phở after these two bowls rather than be excited to have it again.
If you’re interested to know who Phở 1 and 2 are, I will be publishing that info in my next monthly restaurant list update for paid subscribers.
Dishes I already know that I’d like to include in this project are bún bò Huế, bánh cuốn, and bún riêu, as all are fairly convenient for me to get. At the moment, I’m not interested in travelling far across the city for a dish that may cost less than the motorbike ride, but we’ll see! If there is a particular dish you think I should or would want me to compare, please leave a comment and let me know. I write to be read, so feedback is welcome.
I thought I'd never be too picky about a bowl of pho but sometimes I do these days 😅 Living here has to give you some street-cred, right?...even if you're not of Vietnamese heritage. Anyway, I'll keep telling myself that 😄 I've developed a penchant for handmade pho noodles recently, I'm gonna be impossible to live with soon 😁 Thanks for the write up!