Showing posts with label pho. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pho. Show all posts

Sunday, February 1, 2015

Pho Viet

7923 Blondo Street
(402) 393-3111
Open Mon–Thurs 11–9:30, Fri & Sat 11–10, Sun 11–9

Meatball Pho ($8.50)
What lies beneath the murky broth besides a clump of limp rice noodles?

I never considered myself an expert on pho. That is, until that one time I helped make it over a year ago. After cruisin' the trusty Internet for the best recipe and going clear out of my way to the 76th Street Asian market to get certain spices, I feel like, you know, I've been there. I get it. 

Seriously though, I did learn the importance of star anise and cardamom, of coriander and fennel. The delight of these aromatics is, I think, largely why pho is sworn to be one of the greatest comfort foods out there. It's ideal for a long, leisurely weekend meal with friends, when there's sufficient time to pack the entire bowl — noodles and all — bit by bit into your swelling stomach cavity. 

At Pho Viet, the broth didn't have much evidence of any of those spices. It was a curious deep brown, somewhat darker and than usual, and didn't smell or taste much different from the free-with-your-meal soup from the two-star Chinese joint down the street you only dared to dine at because it snowed a bunch. 

Bottom line: without abundant aromatics, pho is just not that special.

Sliced beef pho with the accompaniments. Sure, it's the dead of winter, but can you please only serve me spritely looking basil, perky bean sprouts, and jalapeƱo slices fit for a Taco Bell commercial shoot, please?

The family running the place, on the other hand, was special. They seemed extremely concerned about whether we were pissed because their baby let loose on the crying while they were in the midst of preparing meals for us and three other tables. Note to self to try to shed that "uptight asshole" look I must be giving off. Fact is, it's hard to deny the intimate magic of a family-owned restaurant, built by a hopeful outlook and a bunch of secondhand stuff strung together on a tight budget — whimpering infant and all. 

Egg rollz ($2.99):
Damn solid.

I might go back and try a banh mi—the other Vietnamese dish people like myself claim to know shit about. And I am especially happy to have had the chance to dine in this state-of-the-art strip mall that's remarkably easy on the eyes.

Still on the search for great pho east of 168th and Harrison. And hoping you'll still try this one, because it's possible they had an "off" day, and because I don't want to be even remotely responsible for the nice family going under because Fatty didn't taste enough spices in her broth. 

In a sea of bright yellow signage spanning the entire shopping center (I mean seriously, have you been there?), this one clearly has the most draw of the bunch, thanks to the seaming soup bowl icon off to the side.
Image borrowed from the Pho Viet Facebook page.

Monday, November 11, 2013

Omelet & Viet Cuisine

16808 Audrey Street (168th and Harrison) 
(402) 657-3269
Open 8am to 7:30pm daily, Sundays 'til 5:30pm, I'd call to confirm before driving way the hell out there
http://vietcuisine.webr.ly
Omelet & Viet Cuisine on Urbanspoon-OR-Omelet & Viet Cuisine on Urbanspoon


Just look at that cute logo, woudja?

All right, I've had it. This is me, throwing my hands up in exasperation, because this is not effing fair. Listen, I'm not a West Omaha hater. I have never once uttered that line about not wanting to go west of 72nd Street. Westies are people, too; who are we to judge? They eat, work, and live just like the rest of us, except their existence takes place inside the hastily planned celebration of sameness we know as the McMansion. Regardless of what your stance is, I think we can all admit it's a great place to raise (sheltered) children. 


Clearly, I have a beef with the concept of urban sprawl, and would implore those in "power" to focus on strengthening our core neighborhoods, preferably in such a way that doesn't reflect wildly misplaced sub-suburban sensibilities (I'm looking at you, Midtown Crossing). 



Egg rolls


When Vietnamese and breakfast collide:
Sausage fried rice, complete with large bits of fried egg, charred corn,
and forgettable specs of peas and green beans,
provide a cheery dish to grease you up any time of day.


The point I'm bemoaning is that some of the absolute best, most adventurous, and most reasonably priced food in Omaha can be found only in the far corners of our city limits, suffocating in an unbecoming strip mall, while meanwhile, famished urban dwellers get to rely on the likes of Jimmy John's when jonesing for something quick, cheap, and fast. 

What I wouldn't give to have Omelet & Viet Cuisine in my backyard. 

Sharing a parking lot with a gas station in the bustling neighborhood of Chalco HIlls, this restaurant used to be called The Omelet Factory, a mostly takeout breakfast place that, up until it changed hands three months ago, garnered some flagrantly mediocre reviews. Do not be confused. While the new guys have mostly preserved the standard egg-centric menu for now -- with routine items like French toast and even a meat lovers omelet dominating its pages -- they've also made a major move in the direction of Vietnamese cuisine.


Beef pho and its typical vegetable accompaniments

The result is a slightly strange and yet delicious new addition to our small collection of go-to places for Vietnamese. Though admittedly I am not a diehard expert on the topic, the pho broth certainly seemed more flavorful and somewhat thicker than most. We didn't leave until every drop had been drank, every noodle slurped. One bite into the banh mi, when the slightly sweet earthiness of the pate -- which had nearly melted into each crevice of the toasted, crusty baguette -- hit my taste buds, I attained a sense of well-being only akin to the serotonin boost of a thousand psychedelics. Wild spurts of A Very Jazzy Christmas from the stereo only heightened the mood. 


BBQ Pork Banh Mi:
If you look closely, you can spot
a crumb of pate resting atop the elongated cucumber slice,
and a chunk of crispy pork in the foreground,
elegantly reposed amongst the julienned carrots.


I'll continue to lament the half-hour travel time and gallons of precious gasoline involved in experiencing such quality in comfort food. I believe this type of place belongs just a stroll down the block from people who are willing to stand in a line that circles that block just to get it. In my dreams I'll frequent this clumsily named ethnic food gem, but in reality I will only get to go twice a year or so. I can only hope Chalco Hillsians know how good they've got it. I think they do.  


The three entrees, appetizer, and three soft drinks came to about $26 pre-tip,
a value that may offset travel costs for many of us. 

Friday, February 17, 2012

Kimson Seafood Grill

333 North 78th Street (in shopping center with Brazen Head and Omaha Steaks)
Omaha, NE 68114
402.926.2700
Open daily for lunch and dinner
Kimson Seafood Grill on Urbanspoon

Chicken Pho--
A temporary bout of misjudgment led my dining buddy
to order chicken instead of beef. Still tasty. 

Definitely go to Kimson when you're extra hungry, and be prepared to be delighted by the delicacy of flavors in dishes that can be laden with too much soy sauce or fish oil or what have you. Definitely do not go to Kimson on any hallucinogens whatsoever. The interior would almost be too weird for a Surrealist master, in that it makes no sense at all. Take someone here to avoid awkward conversation, since there's plenty of paintings, neon signs and knickknacks to stare at.

There are a few pho snobs out there who say Kimson's endless bowl is too oily. This was not at all apparent to me, but maybe I got a good batch. Points for the giant stem of fresh basil, instead of stupid cilantro like some places try to get away with. The heap of noodles and steamy broth make this excellent winter comfort food. Do not argue with me.

Crispy Noodle Combo
There's not much to say about the crispy noodle "combo" with chicken, beef and shrimp, other than the meat was tender, the vegetables crunchy, and the sauce didn't weigh me down with an MSG coma. I enjoyed the big hairy looking pile of noodles; they sopped up the sauce perfectly.

The waiter/owner/major Dude, whatever he is, provided prompt service, but didn't encroach on our privacy whilst refilling our waters a zillion times. The two dishes with tax and tip came to about $25, which may be more than you'd pay in say, Vietnam, but my experience was totally worth it. Don't be a pho snob and check it out.