What the Phở-

Today I tried my very first Phở . I have no idea if blogger will spell it correctly, and since I was cautioned heavily ahead of time, I did not try to order it out loud. ("Fuh" is the best approximation I can manage, and that's only among close friends.) I only pointed at it on the Menu. Even then, our presence was barely tolerated. I felt just like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman when the scornful salesgirl insists they don't have her size, while America's sweetheart (but not mine) waves around a wad of cash, "I got money to spend here!!"

I have to say, I am not somebody who appreciates even thinly-disguised contempt (gussy it up a little) -- much less open hostility. My food gays walked me through the ordering via text and it was just as they described it: light, bright, fresh, clear, and crisp. But incredibly subtle and sophisticated.

Speaking as someone who was finally ready to sit up and take a little broth: it lived up to the hype. For once, nobody had to hear me say, "this is good, but you should really taste mine. It's better." And it's just so rare to try an entirely new (to me) flavor profile. I walked out saying I had never tasted anything like it (yeah yeah, that's what she said).

From now on, I'll go with carryout though and minimize the emotional exposure.