One day, four bowls of pho, how much slurping can one person do? Quite a lot, as it turns out this bright Wednesday in the Vietnamese capital.
A pho restaurant in Hanoi. Photo by Tuoi Tre
My guide, Tu, with his back-to-front baseball cap and American television accent, has been handed a challenge. I want to find Hanoi's best pho, across a range of budgets, and I am relying on his insider knowledge.
It is clear Tu thinks I am barking mad and would rather show me a range of conventional tourist sites, including Uncle Ho's mausoleum and the lovely Temple of Literature. But I have been to Hanoi before and I want a different story. Pho is the signature dish of north Vietnam, made from a dense, almost earthy, stock and brimming with thinly sliced beef, silken vermicelli-style rice noodles, snap-fresh bean sprouts and lots and lots of mint and assorted herbage.
The Vietnamese love leafy herbs: all so healthy and fragrant and presented in springy piles, ready to be dunked into soup, popped into woks, eaten with chopsticks as dainty side dishes. Pho is the equivalent of grandma's homemade soup; at its best, it tastes cosy and familiar, as nourishing as a nursery supper.
Pho is also made with chicken but, as I don't eat poultry, I opt for a tasting test of beef. Tu says it's customary to order beef pho with the meat pink (tai) or well-done (chin) and there should be a slice or two of lime or lemon provided on the side to season the soup. Pho for morning tea? Why ever not. Tu lives at home and says he eats his mum's pho for breakfast.
Pho 10: This is a popular corner joint that's jumping all day; it doesn't look particularly clean but Tu says he can vouch for the quality of the beef pho, the house specialty. Pho 10 has been operating for more than 80 years and noodle soup connoisseurs from all over Hanoi flock here, Tu reckons, and we have to wait for a table. It is only 11am.
The secret, says Tu, is the stock, which I can see being stirred in the open kitchen in a big metal tank. They must get through cauldrons of the stuff each day, growing its base with extra seasonings, simmering into the night. Beef and pork bones go into this stock, says Tu, and lots of fish sauce and "secret ingredients", then the fat is skimmed from the surface.
On our table are ceramic dishes of chopped lemon and lime, chilli sauce, pickled garlic, white pepper and deep-fried rice-flour batons to dip deep into the broth. Glasses of iced green tea are presented, and a metal spoon and chopsticks to go on the attack. Then the pho arrives, with my beef as pink as requested, and it is perfect. I ask Tu how many bowls a day are sold here. He yells at the waitress, who scurries over, her face pink from carrying so many trays of steaming soup. "About 700," she replies, wiping her brow.
Cost: About $2.
Rating: Five out of five.
More: Pho 10, corner of Ly Quoc Su and Chan Cam streets.
* * *
Spices Garden, Sofitel Legend Metropole Hanoi: This is the Asian restaurant at the grand old Metropole, now reawakened and freshly branded as part of Accor's Sofitel Legend collection. It features a good-value lunch buffet that focuses on rustic Vietnamese favourites and as part of the spread, which wraps around three sides of this garden-facing venue, there's a pho cooking station. This means I can see how the soup is made, the assembly of ingredients, the exact order of cooking. The beef stock looks dark and rich and smells of cardamom as it simmers away; into the pot go a splash of fish sauce, lots of white pepper and a handful of rice noodles. Then chef Nguyen Hong Nhun pops the liquid into my bowl and adds spring onions, blanched bean sprouts, basil, coriander and mint. I have asked for the meat to be pink so she adds raw strips of what looks like sirloin, and it will cook in the hot broth.
On top is a sprinkling of sawtooth coriander that covers the bowl. It is very good and comes with a range of condiments that includes finely chopped bird's-eye chillies, but lacks the strength of flavour of Pho 10's offering. I now know Tu is right: it's the depth and longevity of the stock that makes the difference.
Cost: $US25 ($25.50) for buffet.
Rating: Three out of five.
More: Spices Garden, Hotel Metropole Sofitel Legend, 15 Ngo Quyen St; www.sofitel.com.
* * *
Madame Hien: This restaurant, in a restored French colonial villa with tall shuttered windows and yellow walls that was once the Spanish embassy, has been open just a few months. It's a cool establishment, with a pretty front garden hung with red lanterns in the trees, like great branchy chandeliers.
The night is so hot I opt to dine inside, and that proves a poor choice. I am shown a table upstairs at the back of the building, atmosphere is lacking and the air-conditioning is as chilled as the service.
The beef pho comes with no lime to squeeze and is utterly, madly tasteless. The quality of beef is good and it is properly pink (not that anyone asked if I wanted it that way). The serving is generous, too, but that is rather redundant praise as it is so bland and watery, I eat but a few mouthfuls, even after asking for white pepper to, well, beef it up.
The blue and white lidded ceramic bowl is lovely and, towards the end of the meal, a new and friendlier waitress appears and seems a bit aghast that I haven't finished the pho. She looks so crestfallen, I take the coward's route and tell her I am just not hungry.
And the name? Apparently Madame Hien is the grandmother of the wife of French owner Didier Corlou, who also runs popular cooking classes and La Verticale restaurant in Hanoi, near the French embassy. Other dishes on the Madame Hien menu look promising and there is a three-course lunch menu for $US10. Just avoid the faux-pho.
Madame Hien is near St Joseph's Cathedral on the verge of the Old Quarter, with its 36 streets named for original guilds such as paper merchants, basket weavers and purveyors of herbal medicine. Pho 10 is nearby, on the eastern corner of Chan Cam Street.
Cost: About $US8.
Rating: One out of five.
More: 15 Chan Cam St
* * *
Room service, Sofitel Legend Metropole Hanoi: It is now late evening but thanks to the odd disappointment of Madame Hien, I am still hungry. Room service offers beef pho among the club sandwiches and pastas of the day, so I order a bowl to be delivered to room 224 in the hotel's historic Metropole Wing (my chamber is the full colonial chic, with tall ceilings and creaky wooden floor). I hardly expect it to be the real thing.
How wrong; it is an excellent noodle soup and its fragrance of pepper and star anise merrily scents the room. There are side bowls of lemon, sliced chillies and white pepper and baby-sized dishes of coriander and crimson-leafed Vietnamese mint. Perhaps because it's late and I am so hungry, maybe it's the pleasure of eating in my dressing gown and, without an audience, slurping wildly, but this is better than the pho in the more grown-up surrounds of Spices Garden.
Cost: $US11.
Rating: Four out of five.
It is clear Tu thinks I am barking mad and would rather show me a range of conventional tourist sites, including Uncle Ho's mausoleum and the lovely Temple of Literature. But I have been to Hanoi before and I want a different story. Pho is the signature dish of north Vietnam, made from a dense, almost earthy, stock and brimming with thinly sliced beef, silken vermicelli-style rice noodles, snap-fresh bean sprouts and lots and lots of mint and assorted herbage.
The Vietnamese love leafy herbs: all so healthy and fragrant and presented in springy piles, ready to be dunked into soup, popped into woks, eaten with chopsticks as dainty side dishes. Pho is the equivalent of grandma's homemade soup; at its best, it tastes cosy and familiar, as nourishing as a nursery supper.
Pho is also made with chicken but, as I don't eat poultry, I opt for a tasting test of beef. Tu says it's customary to order beef pho with the meat pink (tai) or well-done (chin) and there should be a slice or two of lime or lemon provided on the side to season the soup. Pho for morning tea? Why ever not. Tu lives at home and says he eats his mum's pho for breakfast.
Pho 10: This is a popular corner joint that's jumping all day; it doesn't look particularly clean but Tu says he can vouch for the quality of the beef pho, the house specialty. Pho 10 has been operating for more than 80 years and noodle soup connoisseurs from all over Hanoi flock here, Tu reckons, and we have to wait for a table. It is only 11am.
The secret, says Tu, is the stock, which I can see being stirred in the open kitchen in a big metal tank. They must get through cauldrons of the stuff each day, growing its base with extra seasonings, simmering into the night. Beef and pork bones go into this stock, says Tu, and lots of fish sauce and "secret ingredients", then the fat is skimmed from the surface.
On our table are ceramic dishes of chopped lemon and lime, chilli sauce, pickled garlic, white pepper and deep-fried rice-flour batons to dip deep into the broth. Glasses of iced green tea are presented, and a metal spoon and chopsticks to go on the attack. Then the pho arrives, with my beef as pink as requested, and it is perfect. I ask Tu how many bowls a day are sold here. He yells at the waitress, who scurries over, her face pink from carrying so many trays of steaming soup. "About 700," she replies, wiping her brow.
Cost: About $2.
Rating: Five out of five.
More: Pho 10, corner of Ly Quoc Su and Chan Cam streets.
* * *
Spices Garden, Sofitel Legend Metropole Hanoi: This is the Asian restaurant at the grand old Metropole, now reawakened and freshly branded as part of Accor's Sofitel Legend collection. It features a good-value lunch buffet that focuses on rustic Vietnamese favourites and as part of the spread, which wraps around three sides of this garden-facing venue, there's a pho cooking station. This means I can see how the soup is made, the assembly of ingredients, the exact order of cooking. The beef stock looks dark and rich and smells of cardamom as it simmers away; into the pot go a splash of fish sauce, lots of white pepper and a handful of rice noodles. Then chef Nguyen Hong Nhun pops the liquid into my bowl and adds spring onions, blanched bean sprouts, basil, coriander and mint. I have asked for the meat to be pink so she adds raw strips of what looks like sirloin, and it will cook in the hot broth.
On top is a sprinkling of sawtooth coriander that covers the bowl. It is very good and comes with a range of condiments that includes finely chopped bird's-eye chillies, but lacks the strength of flavour of Pho 10's offering. I now know Tu is right: it's the depth and longevity of the stock that makes the difference.
Cost: $US25 ($25.50) for buffet.
Rating: Three out of five.
More: Spices Garden, Hotel Metropole Sofitel Legend, 15 Ngo Quyen St; www.sofitel.com.
* * *
Madame Hien: This restaurant, in a restored French colonial villa with tall shuttered windows and yellow walls that was once the Spanish embassy, has been open just a few months. It's a cool establishment, with a pretty front garden hung with red lanterns in the trees, like great branchy chandeliers.
The night is so hot I opt to dine inside, and that proves a poor choice. I am shown a table upstairs at the back of the building, atmosphere is lacking and the air-conditioning is as chilled as the service.
The beef pho comes with no lime to squeeze and is utterly, madly tasteless. The quality of beef is good and it is properly pink (not that anyone asked if I wanted it that way). The serving is generous, too, but that is rather redundant praise as it is so bland and watery, I eat but a few mouthfuls, even after asking for white pepper to, well, beef it up.
The blue and white lidded ceramic bowl is lovely and, towards the end of the meal, a new and friendlier waitress appears and seems a bit aghast that I haven't finished the pho. She looks so crestfallen, I take the coward's route and tell her I am just not hungry.
And the name? Apparently Madame Hien is the grandmother of the wife of French owner Didier Corlou, who also runs popular cooking classes and La Verticale restaurant in Hanoi, near the French embassy. Other dishes on the Madame Hien menu look promising and there is a three-course lunch menu for $US10. Just avoid the faux-pho.
Madame Hien is near St Joseph's Cathedral on the verge of the Old Quarter, with its 36 streets named for original guilds such as paper merchants, basket weavers and purveyors of herbal medicine. Pho 10 is nearby, on the eastern corner of Chan Cam Street.
Cost: About $US8.
Rating: One out of five.
More: 15 Chan Cam St
* * *
Room service, Sofitel Legend Metropole Hanoi: It is now late evening but thanks to the odd disappointment of Madame Hien, I am still hungry. Room service offers beef pho among the club sandwiches and pastas of the day, so I order a bowl to be delivered to room 224 in the hotel's historic Metropole Wing (my chamber is the full colonial chic, with tall ceilings and creaky wooden floor). I hardly expect it to be the real thing.
How wrong; it is an excellent noodle soup and its fragrance of pepper and star anise merrily scents the room. There are side bowls of lemon, sliced chillies and white pepper and baby-sized dishes of coriander and crimson-leafed Vietnamese mint. Perhaps because it's late and I am so hungry, maybe it's the pleasure of eating in my dressing gown and, without an audience, slurping wildly, but this is better than the pho in the more grown-up surrounds of Spices Garden.
Cost: $US11.
Rating: Four out of five.
Source: Susan Kurosawa, The Australian
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