Gracie's Ode to Pho

If we're gonna talk about love for pho, then I gotta get in on this one.

That video of Anthony Bourdain eating pho in Vietnam is one of the best things I've ever seen. Bourdain understands that pho is an experience, and if you just eat pho and don't experience it, something is terribly wrong.

The first time I had pho was probably in 2002. I remember the day clearly. I was sitting in this new place, that had an interesting smell, it wasn't bad, but it was new. It was a busy Pho Hoa, a pho chain with locations throughout the U.S., and I was pronouncing it Fow Wah (I'm an idiot). Anyway, so enter a heaping bowl of pho. Broth, rice noodles, raw steak at the top, on the side, bean sprouts, basil, jalapenos and limes. I'm thinking, "Alright, jalapenos and limes, I can get down with that." I watched my more experienced cousins pile on the sprouts, ask for extra limes, top with Sriracha, toss in some jalapenos, grab the chop sticks and wide spoon. I watched everyone else around me really closely, everyone with a different pho process, and everyone bent over their bowl, slurping. I ate that pho, as best as I could that day, not really knowing what to make of it. I didn't hate it and I couldn't stop eating it. Pho lingers.

Then... the next day, and for days after that all I could think about was that phockin' pho. The rice noodles and comforting broth. I couldn't get it out of my mind, and I would tell anyone willing to listen about my new found love for Vietnemese noodle soup. It wasn't until a full week later that I finally got to have it again, except this time, I had done my research on pho technique and I was ready to tame it.

One of my absolute favorite things about pho is the ceremony involved. After anxiously waiting, your bowl of hot pho arrives and is placed in front of you, you smile. Reach for chop sticks and spoon, introduce to the soup. If you have steak, it should be served rare and resting on top of the noodles, proceed to flip the steak underneath the noodles to complete cooking in the piping hot broth, if you haven't ordered steak, skip this step. Proceed to condiments. Add bean sprouts, basil, jalapeno, lime, Sriracha... lots of Sriracha. Incorporate your ingredients, by this time the steak should no longer be pink. Taste your broth, does it need anything else? Tasting the broth is respectful almost, because its like you are giving the broth, the heart of the soup, its place by acknowledging it first. I grab some noodles with my chop sticks, spin into the center of my spoon until it is neatly coiled, release into the spoon, steep for some broth and eat. Close your eyes and smile. That my friend, is comfort. Proceed to chow down. Don't be surprised if everyone suddenly is silent and conversation is replaced by slurps. Pho can be messy, it'll get on your shirt and in your face, even for someone as careful and OCD as me, but its fun.

I remember the first time my heart was broken, and how awful I felt, to the extent that I was making myself physically sick - I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I cried all the time. But the first time I came out of my room in almost two days, was for a bowl of pho. It didn't make me forget how sad I was, but for a moment, it reminded me that I was alive and that I was going to be ok. You might think I'm crazy, but I think that anyone who has experienced pho, understands.