Allison Young | CHOW BELLA | t Café For Pho’s Sake Pho Noodles is a hidden Midtown gem. BY ALLISON YOUNG miss the cozy Vietnamese eatery if you drive by too quickly. Tucked into the corner of a strip mall Y near the intersection of Seventh Avenue and Osborn Road, Pho Noodles sits a few doors down from Peter Piper’s Pizza and a Great Clips hair salon. Inside, the simple red and grey decor is enhanced only by a few plants, some Vietnamese artwork on the walls, and an iconic lucky cat at the cash register. It’s pleasant enough, but you’re here for the food — specifically, the savory pho, whose deeply layered broth has been cooking for who knows how long. It’s okay to order the same thing almost every time you visit. I do. My jam is the pho chay, with rice noodles, tofu, and veggies in a vegan- friendly broth. I’m not vegan or even vegetarian. It’s just that good. The steaming bowl is filled with delicate, lacy noodles, crisp-tender broccoli, round slices of scalloped carrots, and ample lily pads of cabbage, then garnished with scallions. But the broth is where the magic happens. It’s smooth and ou might catch the glow of the neon soup bowl that forms the ‘o’ in the sign welcoming you to Pho Noodles in Midtown. But you also might Egg noodles stir-fry with beef. perfumed like a potion, with hints of star anise and ginger that pull your nose closer, as if it were sending out pheromones. Perhaps more impressive than the scent is the speed with which the soup arrives. Not only is the food served hot, but it somehow comes out faster than a Quarter Pounder and fries at the drive-thru. I slide in the garnishes — a side plate of Thai basil, fresh sprigs of cilantro, jalapeño slices, a lime wedge, and a mountain of bean sprouts — and add my own flourishes: a heavy hand of hoisin sauce, a scoop of housemade chili oil, and what most would consider too much sriracha Jackson- Pollocked across the top. Not that I haven’t ventured beyond my comfort dish. The pho tái chin, with its feathery slices of rare steak, has a deep, meaty broth that reaches a rich brown but clear hue thanks to seven secret spices and at least nine hours of simmering. The cha giò are cigar-sized fried egg roll crunchers filled with more minced pork than vegetables that light up with the accompanying nuoc cham dipping sauce. The goi cuon tôm, tightly packed parcels of thin rice vermicelli, crunchy shredded vegetables and shrimp, live up to their reputation. And the mì vàng xào dac biet — egg noodles stir-fried with tender, thinly sliced beef and bright vegetables — is sauced just right. The only thing I wouldn’t order again is the bánh mì. The Pho Noodles version of this Vietnamese sandwich has the right fillings, but in the wrong proportions. Bottom line, there’s just too much bread. There’s no alcohol on the menu, but it’s hardly missed among the fresh fruit smoothies and perfectly bitter yet perfectly balanced Vietnamese iced coffee. The most popular drink, however, appears to be Coke in the can. For five years, customers have kept coming back to Pho Noodles for the same reasons: the rich and radiant pho and the efficient and friendly service. >> p 30 27 phoenixnewtimes.com | CONTENTS | FEEDBACK | OPINION | NEWS | FEATURE | NIGHT+DAY | CULTURE | FILM | CAFE | MUSIC | PHOENIX NEW TIMES FEB 3RD– FEB 9TH, 2022
