Showing posts with label Vietnamese. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vietnamese. Show all posts

9.14.2006

Restaurant Review #161: Pho 999, Van Nuys



Pho 999 is your prototypical strip mall Vietnamese restaurant. The decor can only be described as garish, but the prices are low and the service is fast. The restaurant's specialty seems to be a meal of seven courses of beef, but I can't eat that much meat.

The pho tai was about average, maybe slightly above--the broth was flavorful, tasted more of cardamon than usual, and needed a bit of lime to balance it out. The vermicelli noodles weren't stuck together in a clump--clumpy noodles are a real pet peeve of mine. My bowl was only $4.95, and as usual, you can have your pho with any combination of brisket, tendon, tripe, and rare beef.


Charbroiled beef

The charbroiled beef looked more like pork when it came out due to its pale color, and it was kind of disgusting, even for $5.95. It was very thin and had a processed texture, making me feel like I was at McDonald's. I enjoyed the lightly pickled daikon strips that came on the side.

Pho 99 also serves about 20 kinds of boba shakes, with flavors ranging from banana to soursop to avocado. The shakes themselves were very good, but light on the boba, which had a hard time making it up the straw for some reason. My guess is that they're trying get the business of all the patrons who would otherwise head a few doors down for boba after their meal--hey, it worked on me.

The service is indifferent bordering on rude. Why do all Vietnamese restaurants want to take your order almost the moment you sit down? True, there aren't a lot of variations across restaurants, but I want some time to see what unique dishes might be available and think about what I'm in the mood to eat. I don't want to be rushed by being asked every 60 seconds if I'm ready to order yet.

When you're finished eating, head to the register and give them your table number to pay. Don't expect to ever see the staff again once your food has been served, and don't expect any sort of "thanks for coming in." With the mediocre food, garish decor and nonexistent service, I won't be going back.

Pho 999

6411 Sepulveda Blvd.
Van Nuys, CA 91411
818-782-1999
Pho 999 on Urbanspoon

2.10.2006

Restaurant Review #111: Le Saigon: Adventures in Westside Vietnamese Cuisine, West LA



This is a re-post of an earlier review with updates from my most recent visit.

After my first visit to Le Saigon Cafe, I said that I would not go back, because the food just wasn't that compelling. Ten months later, I did go back, because it seemed like a better place to take my visiting friend than Phoreign or Pho 99. I think I was wrong there, but more on that in a minute.

LA Weekly's restaurant section describes Le Saigon Cafe as "(a)n itty-bitty, gloriously inexpensive Vietnamese café just west of the Royal movie theater. . . an ideal place to huddle over big bowls of pho or bun (rice noodles), charbroiled meats and glasses of sticky sweet café sua da (iced Saigon coffee). The tables are tiny, the turnover is swift, and the air is scented by grilling meat and freshly cut cucumbers."

The astute reader may notice that the above description makes no comment about the quality of the food. Well, there's a reason for that.

The charbroiled beef, featured in dishes including bun, rice plates, and do-it-yourself spring rolls doesn't have that glazy sweetness that is the whole purpose of eating charbroiled beef. It's just strips of meat, barely flavored. So disappointing. Perhaps it's healthier, but the restaurant doesn't brand itself as the healthy Vietnamese alternative, so I don't think that's their excuse. Phoreign, while their pho is terrible (such a mistake, given the name) does have decent charbroiled beef. Even better? Pho 99. It's not that the beef is bad. Just that it could be so much more.

Other dishes fare better. On my first visit, I orderd bun with tofu. The tofu was excellent. They use a tofu of medium firmness, which you can get fried or steamed. I orderd mine fried. I could have just eaten a big plate of that tofu. It was particularly good in the noodles with the crushed peanuts on top. The texture of the noodles was just right. Also included in the bun were the standard bean sprouts, cilantro, and shredded carrot, zuchinni, lettuce, and mint.

The spring rolls were interesting in that the tofu was warm and the veggies and wrapper were cool. I kind of liked this juxtaposition, unusual though it was, yet I also felt like it somehow prevented me from really tasting all the ingredients because I was distracted by the varying temperatures. The filling was heavy on the foliage and could have used some vermicelli, in my opinion. I also would have preferred cilantro instead of mint, largely because I don't care for the texture of mint leaves. I didn't eat my whole spring roll right away because my meal came at the same time-- perhaps due to generally super-fast service, or perhaps because we essentially arrived when the restaurant was closing and they wanted to get us out as quickly as possible. The delay in consumption allowed the roll's skin to become a bit dried out. I'm not sure if this is a design flaw inherent to fresh spring rolls and a spring roll has just never lasted that long in front of me before, or if it was the brand of rice paper or the restaurant's preparation. Either way, a thinner, chewier, moister wrapper would have been an improvement.

One of my personal gripes about the majority of Vietnamese restaurants is that I really like sweet and sour chili fish sauce (it was a house sauce at a Vietnamese place I frequented in St. Louis), especially for my spring rolls, and most places only have hot sauce, more hot sauce, and plum sauce (hoisin sauce). Le Saigon was no exception. Their house sauces weren't too exciting, either: the peanuty sauce that came with the spring rolls didn't have a very prnounced flavor, and neither did the fish sauce concoction that came with my noodles and also with the rice plate on my second visit. I almost wonder if it didn't have fish sauce in it.


Charbroiled beef

The menu is short and to-the-point, which is great if you're indecisive like me. The restaurant is somewhat vegetarian-friendly, but not enough to make my list. On my first visit, back in my almost vegetarian days, I was able to order both fresh spring rolls and bun with tofu. These were the only tofu options, but probably the ones I would have chosen regardless.

The restaurant makes some attempt at having atmosphere, with red lanterns hanging from the ceiling and nice ceiling fans, which is more than a lot of Vietnamese restaurants bother with.

The service was incredibly fast on both visits, making it a great place for two hungry late-night diners. Also, though they cleaned up the entire restaurant around us, they let us eat our food in peace although we were there past closing (oops, I hate doing that to people). Unfortunately, I could smell the cleaning supplies as I ate.

Though I have many criticisms of the food, as I often do, I still enjoyed both of my meals. Overall, it's faster than Phoreign and has more atmosphere than Pho 99, but isn't as tasty as either. My official position is that Pho 99 is the winner for Westside Vietnamese.

Le Saigon Cafe
11611 Santa Monica Blvd.
West Los Angeles
(310) 312-2929.
Tues.–Thur. and Sun. 11:30 a.m.–9:30 p.m.
Fri. and Sat. 11:30 a.m.–10:30 p.m.
No alcohol. Pretty easy street parking.
Entrées $5–$8. Vietnamese.
Cash Only!

12.23.2005

Restaurant Review #101: Phoreign, Sawtelle, West LA - CLOSED


Pho tai (rare beef)

Phoreign. My first thought was, "god, what a horrible name for a restaurant. There is no way this place is going to last with a name like that!" Then I realized that it might be a Vietnamese place--and it is--which makes the name slightly less painful.

So is this the reincarnation of Hanoi Cafe? I'm not positive, but I think so. When they closed, the sign said that they were moving down the street. I wasn't expecting the name change, though. I never ate at Hanoi Cafe--in fact, the first time I tried to eat there, I discovered that they'd closed--so I can't tell you if the menu or the flavors are the same. I went to Phoreign with low expectations though, due to 1) the cheesy name 2) the Westside Vietnamese curse 3) the possibility that it was a reincarnation of Hanoi Cafe, which no one seemed enthused about and 4) the gaudy, bright, oversized photos on a large sign outside the restaurant.


Bun with unfried tofu

My low expectations were pretty much fulfilled. The restaurant wasn't bad, but it was somewhere between average and mediocre (average for Westside Vietnamese, that is).

The first problem was that the water tasted funny. To be specific, it tasted like the way swimming pool water tastes when you're right next to a pool float (this spot-on observation brought to you by one of my fellow diners). It was so bad that I didn't drink it at all, in fact, and I'm no water snob. I ordered a cafe sua da instead. I ordered it hot, but it came lukewarm. There's no excuse for not being able to boil water before pouring it over my coffee.

The waiter nicely explained that I needed to wait for the water to drain through the coffee and stir it well so it would mix with the sweetened condensed milk. Yes, I am a white girl, but that doesn't mean that I have never seen a Vietnamese iced coffee before. Sigh. I have sort of noticed, though, that the Sawtelle scene really is almost entirely young 20-something Asians, so I guess I do stand out like a sore thumb. I'm so used to being surrounded by minorities, though, that I tend to think I am one. Actually, when you're surrounded by people who are different than you, that does make you a minority. The white minority. I prefer it that way, actually.

As pho is always a logical measuring stick for a Vietnamese place, that's what I ordered. It was interestingly presented, with the rare beef balled up in a rose shape, but it wasn't served hot enough, the noodles were difficult to tease away from their original clump, and the broth didn't have the complexity of flavor that one expects from a good bowl of pho.


Bun with charbroiled beef

The bun with charbroiled beef (and normally shrimp, but I ordered it sans shellfish) had flavors of lemongrass, and I could definitely taste the fishiness in the accompanying sauce. The imperial rolls had lots of ginger, which was an excellent decision. It wasn't as good as Thanh My, but it was the best dish on the table.

My other friend's dish was a tofu bun dish. She ordered the tofu not fried, which they happily accomodated, but I was a bit horrified to see that they had partially burned her imperial rolls and put them in the dish anyway. It had a different sauce than the other bun, probably because fish sauce isn't vegetarian, so I think it's safe to say that they do have a vegetarian dish on the menu, and that the pho with tofu might actually be made with vegetarian broth as well.

We ate at one of the two patio tables, adjacent to the none-too-scenic parking lot. Our orders were taken quickly and arrived promptly, but after that, we were long-forgotten. The staff was friendly, in that invisible sort of way. The interior looks nice, though narrow and small-there are only 4 or five tables, and the rest of the seats are at a long bar. The dominant color is dark wood, and they have bamboo shades in the windows. The lunch menu is abbreviated, but they do offer a couple of lunch specials that come with imperial rolls, rice, and salad for $10.95. Pho costs about $7.00, and other things are slightly cheaper. Coffee is $3.

Verdict? The only reason I will eat here again is because the location is convenient for me. Pho 99 is probably your best option for Westside Vietnamese.

Phoreign
2123 Sawtelle Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90025
310-477-4885

7.30.2005

Restaurant Review #39: Thanh My, Westminster, Orange County


Bun with charbroiled beef

And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a small automobile


One random Sunday afternoon I decided to go to Fullerton, just for the hell of it. What did I finally buy a car for, if not to enjoy it? Next question: Why would anyone go out of their way to go to Fullerton? Well, now I know. They wouldn't. Fortunately, Westminister, and Little Saigon, were not too far away, so I made a stop at my favorite Vietnamese restaurant. This is another one of those gems that I found (several years ago, before I even lived here) simply by driving down the street and picking the most crowded restaurant to eat at. Funny how that doesn't work at all for American restaurants. Cheesecake Factory, anyone?


Imperial roll appetizer

Letting the day go by...


Thanh My is populated entirely by Vietnamese folk, most of whom will not utter a word of English during their meals, and white, white me. It's a super casual atmosphere-less place, like almost all Vietnamese restaurants. The menu is extensive. The food is cheap and good. Though I have been here several times before, this particular trip was inspired largely by a desire to see what the big deal is about pho. I've liked Vietnamese food for several years now, but tend to stick to bun and tofu dishes (when they exist). What's the big deal about a bowl of broth called pho (more or less pronounced "fauh")?

Qu'est-ce que c'est?

If you have never been to a Vietnamese restaurant before, particularly a real one, you may ask yourself, what is all of this stuff? Well, that's what I'm here for. Bun (first photo) is a bowl of vermicelli noodles and something else, such as charbroiled beef or pork (or perhaps tripe or something else I am unwilling to eat). There will often be an imperial roll or 2 (like a small eggroll) in your bowl as well. There are also veggies, like sliced carrot, and herbs, like mint, and then you'll get a bowl of delectable sweet and sour fish sauce to pour over the top. Note that the imperial rolls contain pork, though from reading the menu description, you'd think they were vegetarian. There are a few vegetarian dishes on the menu, but they aren't very exciting, and consist only of noodles and/or veggies (no tofu). I've found that when it comes to Vietnamese cuisine, you're better off being a carnivore. In my semi-vegetarian opinion, charbroiled beef with lemongrass (pictured below) is one of the best reasons to eat meat (aside from hamburgers with blue cheese, of course).

Pho is the biggest bowl of soup you've ever seen, renowned for the rich, complex flavor of it's homemade broth. It contains vermicelli noodles, and whatever kind of meat you've ordered. The meat is cut into very thin slices which are actually cooked by the broth, so they may arrive at your table still pink. Pho is served with a plate of mint leaves, bean sprouts, and a lime wedge, all of which can be added to the soup at your discretion. You can also add hot sauce, though I wouldn't recommend it, because it really covers up the flavor of the broth.

There are also noodle dishes, and crushed rice dishes, which will be something meaty with a side of rice. I really like putting the aforementioned fish sauce on my crushed rice.

And you may ask yourself, How do I eat this?

I like to use the ceramic spoons (usually already on the table, in a container off to the side) to slurp the broth, and chopsticks to eat the noodles. I imagine this is how you're supposed to eat pho.


Pho pho pho pho pho pho pho pho far far better

I ordered the sliced beef pho, and indeed, the broth was quite flavorful, and better than what I've had on the Westside, of course, but I just don't think this is a dish I will ever be passionate about. And yes, I've been waiting to use that pho lyric for a long time.

On another visit, I had the charbroiled beef bun. It was amazing, and I don't even like meat very much. The beef was sweet and tender. Next visit, I'll probably order this again, or a noodle dish. Hell, this place is so cheap, I ought to order both. Many dishes are only $6. They also have lots of interesting drinks, and the ever-delectable Vietnamese coffee, of course. Do they have soursop shakes? They may. If so, I'd recommend one.


You start a conversation, you can't even finish it

I will admit, sometimes when something is good, I don't say much about it. I just want you to go eat it!


We are vain and we are blind

Where is my check? Can't they see that I'm done with my meal? What is up with this service? Ok, here's the deal: when you're done with your meal, just take that tiny slip of green paper with the number on it that has been sitting on your table the entire time up to the cash register by the door. This arrangement might mean that if you need a to-go box, you'll be waiting for a million years. We had a hard time getting any service once our food was on the table (I wondered if it was because most of the servers passing by perhaps weren't comfortable with English-alas, I speak no Vietnamese). And don't be alarmed by the security cameras. Last time I checked, Westminster was not a hub of thuggish activity. But then, I live on the Westside, so what do I know?


Charbroiled beef with lemongrass

Large meal for two, with drinks (get the lemonade, or the soursop shake!), tax, tip, and leftovers: $27.65

Thanh My Restaurant
9553 Bolsa Ave
Westminster, CA 92683-5904
714-531-9540

FYI: On my last visit, I stumbled across another Thanh My, in a different location, in a pinkish building, and with very few patrons. Is this an expansion of the original or a separate restaurant trying to soak up business based on the popularity of the place I've just reviewed? I don't know. Just make sure you eat at the right Thanh My. Or be adventurous and go to the other one, and let me know how it goes.

Remove the water at the bottom of the ocean!


6.29.2005

Restaurant Review #32: Gingergrass, Silverlake


Dining room

Someone to hear my prayers, someone who cares

In St. Louis there was this restaurant called Pho Grand that had ten different tofu dishes. Ten!!! I always ordered tofu with ginger and onions, or occasionally, tofu with lemongrass and chiles. Since moving to LA, I have not been able to find a restaurant that can satisfy my desire to eat a plate full of delicious tofu and crushed rice (the only kind of rice I really like).


Ceiling

Take second best, put me to the test

I've been eating all this half-assed Vietnamese food on the Westside at restaurants that never have exciting tofu dishes. I have noticed that tofu does not seem to be a common item on the menu at authentic places, but can't a girl get a break? Anyway, I finally went to Gingergrass about a month ago, and again last weekend, after having known about it for an entire year. Waiting that long to eat there was a serious mistake!!! They actually have a tofu entree!


Gingerale

Things on your chest you need to confess

First, a little disclaimer. The food at Gingergrass is what I would call white people Vietnamese food. If you want something super-authentic, you're still gonna have to drive down to Orange County. Judged on its own merits though, the food is awfully good. Most of it.

I've tried two of their specialty drinks, the gingerale and the fresh ginger limeade. I enjoyed both, but I was absolutely blown away by the gingerale. It's made from fresh pressed ginger. I've never had anything like it, and I had to order a second one to quench my passion. Both drinks, however, seem to lose their fizziness excessively quickly. Why is this? They also have a basil lime elixir, which I am skeptical of (you want me to drink basil?). Maybe next time.


Shrimp chips

Everyone gets shrimp chips while they wait for their food. I can assure you that there are no shrimp in these, as I did not die from eating them. The thing is, the busboy who delivers them to your table is kinda mumbly, so I couldn't understand what he was saying. I thought he might have said shrimp chips. They tasted kinda shrimpy. I wondered, would a restaurant really serve something with shellfish in it, one of the top 10 allergens, as a surrogate bread basket, and not announce loud and clear, "This has shrimp in it!!!"? Then I remembered how common peanuts are at bars, and that bread has wheat in it. But um, my allergy is more important, right? Anyway, the shrimp chips were like nothing I'd ever had before. I think they are kind of like pork rinds (but cleaner?), though nary a pork rind has crossed my lips. I am a good Jewish girl, after all. Wait, no I'm not. I'm not even Jewish. They come with hoisin sauce for dipping. They also kind of remind me of those packing peanuts made of corn starch, but crunchier (you know, the edible ones?), or cheeto puffs, but denser and slicker (and flatter, of course). You'll just have to try them yourself if you really want to know.


Reach out and touch faith

Gingergrass's food is GOOD. Good like you take one bite and you're so happy you want to cry. Ok, I was anyway. I had to refrain. I was already dining alone, and didn't need the whole restaurant thinking I was emotionally unstable and couldn't get anyone to eat out with me. I like to dine out alone sometimes, because I can taste my food more when I'm not trying to carry on a conversation.


Green papaya salad

On my first visit, I had the green papaya salad. The heavens opened and angels sung when I saw that this dish had....drumroll please...no shrimp! Finally, I could try this dish without fear of death. Ah. Green papaya tastes nothing like papaya. It's kind of like jicama, but chewier. Yeah, you probably haven't had jicama. Sorry. Anyway, the salad was very juicy, kinda sweet, and kinda spicy. Yum. A new favorite. And enough for leftovers. I made it last for 2 more meals.


Vegetarian Imperial Rolls

As an appetizer on this visit, I ordered the vegetarian imperial rolls. They arrived at the table looking somewhat overcooked, but since I was raised on burnt food, I wasn't too concerned. In fact, they were fantastically crunchy. You know how eggroll outsides are crunchy but then chewy? Well, these were just crunchy. Very interesting. Most importantly, they came with the vegan nuoc cham dipping sauce I'm in love with. Overall, the imperial rolls weren't anything particularly innovative, but they were yummy.



Beef, sweet potatoes, and green beans in a peanut chili sauce

My friend ordered the bo sate, "tender filet mignon in a spicy peanut sauce, wok-tossed with yams and long beans." I thought the sauce was off and rather oily. He liked the dish a lot though, so maybe it wasn't that bad. I appreciate the nod to steak and potatoes by using beef and sweet potatoes, though as someone who gets full fast, I don't like dense food pairings.



Steamed fish in a banana leaf, still wrapped, with a side of coleslaw and crushed rice

I ordered the banana leaf fish, which was described as a "tilapia fillet steamed in banana leaves with lemongrass, ginger, chilies, scallions on a bed of carrots and shiitake mushrooms." I figured, most things sound kinda boring on the menu, but actually taste really good. So I let my qualms about tilapia (aka the cheap fish) and the carrots (yucky) slide. It turns out that this was what I would call a diet dish. The fish was steamed all right, and so was everything else. No sauce. Steamed minced ginger. Yum. No. And the lemongrass? What lemongrass? And the shiitake mushrooms, which can easily be made amazing, were awfully bland. I dumped the nuoc cham sauce from the imperial rolls on it, which improved the dish significantly, and thanked myself for having permanently given up dieting (highly recommended).


Steamed fish in a banana leaf, unwrapped

On my first visit, I had the Gingergrass tofu, "crispy tofu with shiitake mushrooms and baby bok choy served with our vegan nuoc cham sauce." One bite convinced me that I had found a new favorite restaurant. I am not sure how they made the tofu crispy--it was definitely deep fried, but appeared to be coated in some sort of very thin breading. Intriguing. Wish I knew how to replicate that. The mushrooms and bok choy were sauteed and pretty tasty, though I didn't quite think their flavor jived with the sauce.

Though I was certain that no dish could top it, I felt I should branch out a bit before locking into ordering the exact same thing for the rest of my days. The experiment failed, but now I know. The only entrees I have yet to try are the shaking beef and lemongrass chicken. Neither sound too exciting to me, but meat doesn't excite me in general. There's also a pork chop dish and a shrimp dish, but I don't/can't eat either. Though I'd really love to try the carmelized shrimp if I could. All of the entrees are served with rice and slaw. The slaw is not mayonaissey, like traditional coleslaw, but vinegary. Pretty good stuff, though I'm usually too stuffed from everything else to eat much of it.


Gingergrass Tofu

On my first visit, I had the ginger creme brulee for dessert. It wasn't that gingery, but it was still good, though I thought maybe the texture should have been a bit smoother (I will not claim to be a creme brulee expert). The top was nice and hard, like it should be. Unfortunately, a month later, they had discontinued it. For some reason, key lime coconut bars, and all of the other desserts, just don't appeal to me. I am sweet tooth girl, but I don't get that excited about most restaurant dessert menus. It's always stuff I've had before.

I'll make you a believer

I've just dissed a lot of my meal, and you're probably feeling a bit skeptical about my praise. Just avoid the bo sate and the fish, and you should be fine. To experience the best Gingergrass has to offer, you can check out Mako Mondays, where the chef prepares a fixed menu for $35. You get a ton of food for this price. I haven't been, but I think it's a great idea. If you can't make it to one of these events, I'd recommend the gingerale, papaya salad, and tofu (in case you couldn't figure that out from reading this review). If I'd had the fish or beef on my first visit, I probably wouldn't have been so impressed. Those dishes definitely need some fine tuning.


You know I’m a forgiver

"No you're not, Amy, you're harsh!" Yes, I can hear what you're thinking. Well, the thing is, if a restaurant has done something to impress me, I will go to great lengths to defend its shortcomings (Musha would be a good example of this). I like to think that at a good restaurant, I should be able to order any dish and have it be spectacular. Maybe that's asking too much, but I don't think it is. But ok, I can forgive the bland fish and the off-tasting chili peanut sauce since I never plan to order these things again. I am going to religiously order a green papaya salad and tofu every time I eat here from now on. Those two things, and the drinks, are amazing, so I don't care if they serve a steaming pile of shit to the other people in the restaurant. Well, I guess I would, because I'd have to smell it.

I should mention that the price is very much right at Gingergrass. I had a drink, appetizer, main course, and dessert for $28 including tax and tip, and I had leftovers, too. Gingergrass doesn't serve alcohol, but you can pick some up at the wine store across the street. I believe there is a $5 corkage fee. I hate corkage fees.


My own personal Jesus

Food being perhaps the closest thing in my life to religious experience, I'm gonna have to give mad props to Mako for giving me a green papaya salad without shrimp, ginger ale made from fresh pressed ginger, perfect fried tofu and succulent dipping sauce.


Gingergrass
2396 Glendale Boulevard
Silver Lake, CA 90039
(323) 644-1600
Website