The Right Temperature to be Romantic
This is mom's second time to Paris while my first. She has been mentioning to me how tasty and affordable a pho place is that she visited it for three times within the six days in Paris. Sure, I should definitely go and try it.
The last time I had pho was within two days when we were walking around Notre Dame and hunting for food. A vietnamese place looked packed (one of the most important factors to impress a hesitated Chinese visitor), and after scanning the menu, we stepped in. We chose the cheaper pho (10 Euros) instead of the recommended one on top of the menu, which was 14 Euros (way to expensive). Then as custom, raw white bean sprouts with mint leaves were served in a plate. After the pho arrived at the table, I immediately dropped some bean sprouts so that the hot soup could cook them. Sadly the soup was not as heated as I expected, and it was challenging for the bean sprouts to reach its best stage based on my standard. On the brighter side, the rice noodle in the pho was cooked right on point which is soft but still in good shape to pick up in a cluster with chopsticks. I could feel the smooth texture "rice" in the rice noodle.
The first time and the second to last time I had pho were both within the three months I arrived in California. The first time was at a fast food station on campus called Shogun, where they have various noodle soups under $7. The place gave me great strength in maintaining the confidence of staying in the States for offering me the closest thing a Chinese restaurant could offer, right on campus. There was thin beef slices, ox tripes, cowhells, and In the following weeks, the pho was all I could crave for. I still remember one rainy day when I was alone in my dorm -- the hot pho at Shogun, located in the campus center, became the beacon that I could see but never seemed to reach. (End of the story -- I failed to find a mate to walk all the way to the center with me and I felt too sad to go there alone. If it happened now -- wouldn't be a problem. Eating alone? Fun.)
Finally get to tell the story of the second to the last time when I had pho, which was two and a half year away from the last time I had it, the time in Paris several days ago. The experience must have twisted me deep enough to make me give up something as dreamy as this for more than two years before I had the gut to pick it up again. Long story short, no -- short story short: I added the raw bean sprouts into my hot pho to cook it; my friend did not eat bean sprouts; I would not want to waste the sprouts; I put her bean sprouts into my pho after I finished my bean sprouts and half of my noodles. Then it was all physical: the soup was not hot enough to cook the newbie sprouts, and the raw flavor made me sick.
It may not be a problem for you, my friend (especially after I saw customers at the pho place eating the bean sprouts raw before their noodle soup was served), but as a foodie who looks open-minded but actually holds so tight onto some traditional Chinese palliates, it was so bad for me.
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Now I am finally here with my mom, Pho 14. On the same street, there were also Pho 126 and another pho place named with a number. This restaurant is apparently more packed than the other ones.
Plates of raw bean sprouts stacked.
The menu is very straightforward, with pictures of food marked with numbers corresponding with items translated into various languages including English and Chinese (yeaaa~).
Soon the pho is served after the order. It is my first time seeing raw beef slices in the noodle soup because I never order raw beef! I was ok with it this time because I would let the beef steeped in the hot soup so that it would be cooked. Out of my hunger I lifted my chopsticks and dug for a handful of rice noodles. Oh no. Forgive me of using the fancy Italian word Al Dente, but it was the only way for me to accept this firm noodle, which should not be acceptable. Then I tasted the soup. Um...too salty. My mom agreed with me and suggested that we squeeze more lemon juice into the soup to compromise the saltiness.
I also ordered this Coconut Milk with Red Bean and Sticky Rice as dessert. The coconut milk had an authentic flavor instead of the artificial fragrance. The plump red beans and sticky rice both were both soft and had two layers of chewiness. I also believed that a slight portion of salt in it made the dessert rich and full of aftertaste.
I also got a chance to eat this freshly deep fried spring rolls. Mom asked me to wrap it with the lettuce, which was really helpful in holding the hot spring rolls. The stuffing included carrot, thin glass noodles and chicken -- all cooked to a soft extent. The flavor was well balanced so that none of the filling was dominating. The delicious inside with the excitement brought by the crispy and greasy rice wrap lit up every cell in me. I have to coordinate my hands and mouth well to eat the rolls. Oh and don't forget the source, it is light and sweet -- not oily at all as it looked appeared.
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I would say the weather of Paris is romantic -- warm in the sun and chilly in the wind: it is at a huggable temperature. For pho, the temperature is key. It should be hot enough at the beginning to turn the beef and sprouts from raw to cooked, and within seconds it would be cooled to the right temperature for the hungry customers to devour.