Thoughts From the Coffee Table: I have to admit that I never pronounce pho correctly, but it won’t keep me from eating it. And every bowlful makes me long to travel to Vietnam.
We have been in a serious deep freeze. By Sunday morning we warmed to a balmy 0 degrees, which felt like such a heat wave that I forced us out of the house and onward to lunch.
When you eat pho, the dish of herbs and sprouts, limes and jalapeños, is more than a way to personalize your experience. It is a work of art, elevating the meal. A juxtaposition of simplicity and grandeur.
The team at iPho is pleasant, unassuming, and constantly aware. They watch the door. They watch the kitchen to ensure that your food comes out immediately. They watch your water glass, never allowing your glass to be “half empty.”
And because I was greedy and ordered the large bowl, I left that cold afternoon with my leftovers in a warm plastic container of love. The gentleman who bagged it for me apologized because he had to leave a few tablespoons in the bowl because it didn’t fit. He was a sorry as I was!
As the temps rise to almost 50 today, I am contemplating another trip to iPho. Because if there is one thing I know it is this. Chicken soup really is good for the soul.