One Pho the Money, Two Pho the Show

At Pho 24, we ordered a bowl of pho bo vien (meatballs) and pho tai (lean eye round steak). And, as expected, they didn't disappoint. In traditional southern Vietnamese fashion, the plate of "fixin's" that arrived (ahem, garnishes, sorry) was piled high with fresh, vibrantly green cilantro, culantro, basil, sliced jalapenos and limes, along with the requisite crunchy bean sprouts. And the pho itself was wonderful: the light brown broth glistened with the fat that had been cooked off the bones while the onion and ginger shone brightly through in each bite. The tai was extremely lean yet flavorful, while the bo vien were plump and savory.

The only disappointment came in the form of the ca phe sua da, or iced Vietnamese coffee made with sweetened condensed milk. The strong chicory coffee came out neatly enough in the standard drip filter over a cup, alongside a small jigger of milk. To our surprise, it wasn't sweetened condensed milk; it was PET Milk: plain, sugarless evaporated milk. Needless to say, the iced coffee wasn't quite the same, and we left without that all-important sugar rush at the end of our meal.

The next week, we found ourselves at Pho Huy on the recommendation of a friend who claimed that there was great pho to be found outside of Chinatown. Like every good Vietnamese restaurant (and, truthfully, like almost everything in Houston), Pho Huy is also tucked into an unassuming strip center, this time in the shabby heart of Spring Branch at Gessner and Hammerly.

Like its counterpart, Pho Huy is also brand-new and features the same ubiquitous slate tiles and modern Asian art lining the walls. However, its tall ceilings and long, communal-style tables give it a much livelier, upbeat feeling than Pho 24. The highly diverse clientele is similarly cheerful and -- given the food -- who could blame them? The service is a bit more disjointed -- you can tell they're still working out some kinks -- but once you get your food, all is forgotten.

On our first visit, we tried the bun thit nuong -- still holding somewhat stubbornly to our "too much variety, no pho" rule -- from their small yet potent menu of traditional Vietnamese dishes like com dia, bun and banh mi. The bun was unexpectedly amazing: the heaps of thit nuong (slices of charbroiled pork) piled atop the vermicelli and vegetables was smoky, succulent and utterly delicious. Hoisin sauce and Sri Racha were entirely unnecessary, the pork being juicy enough on its own.

Their ca phe sua da was also divine: the strong, woodsy coffee was perfectly balanced by the thick, creamy sweetness of the condensed milk. Apparently, Pho Huy also feels that their coffee is unparallelled; bright yellow posters in several areas of the restaurant commanded customers: "YOU TRY IT!" and "YOU LIKE IT!" We did, on both counts.

The next day, we felt compelled to go back and try their pho. After all, their bun had been wonderful; why not their pho?

It turns out that Pho Huy is now the official mascot for the term "exception to the rule." Even though their menu is full of all manner of other dishes, their pho is hands-down the best that we've ever had in Houston. We ordered the pho tai nam gau gan sach bo vien (you can just say "number 32"), which is just a fancy way of saying, "Hey, why don't you throw all that meat you have in the kitchen into the bowl?" We also got an order of com dia thit nuong, just to round things out.

Perhaps owing to the sheer volume of meat in the bowl, the pho broth was a deep mahogany -- unusual, to say the least. But when we tasted it, it became clear that it wasn't because of the meat (which is thrown in at the last minute, anyway). The broth tasted as if it had been cooked with thick beef stock and bones rich with marrow. The pure sheen on the top seemed to corroborate our tastebuds.

Much like the bun, this dish needed nothing extra in the way of sauce -- it stood on its own. The bo vien were perfectly chewy -- not too much cartilege -- and the additional meats, the tendon in particular, lent a pleasing variety of textures to indulge in. The com dia thit nuong should have been an afterthought in the face of the pho, but it held its own against the other dishes, the thit nuong (pork) with the same moist toothsomeness it held the day before in the bun.

We left Pho Huy ecstatic and full that day, but also grateful. We are grateful that we live in a city that not only provides us with the means to learn about pho and the culture and history behind it, but one which allows us to experience a different bowl of pho every single day -- like meeting a new friend each day -- and to slowly eat our way through the great tapestry of Houston.

Pho 24
9750 Bellaire Boulevard, #108
713.271.6500

Pho Huy
2420 Gessner Drive, Suite D
713.827.2899