Faux Phở

If you look up pho in Webster’s Third, you’ll learn it’s an abbreviation for photographer. While some skilled photographers were at my apartment tonight, I did not actually have them on the menu.

No, as any person of Vietnamese heritage or fanatical devotion to the works of Anthony Bourdain can tell you, phở is a ubiquitous and glorious soup—a staple of the Vietnamese diet. Although phở (pronounced “fuh,” although I prefer to say it more like a sigh, like “fuhhhhhhhh,” due to its distinct ability to relax me in any circumstance) is typically made with beef broth and various cuts of beef at various stages of doneness, there is a less traditional but still just there-are-no-words awesome vegan version: phở chay in Vietnamese.

I desperately wanted to tackle this soup (I’ve seriously been thinking about it for, like, six years), but I must admit I was awfully intimidated. The fear of failure is even worse now than it was a few years back, as we have a few stupendous phở vendors mere blocks from my apartment. Pho Lang Thang at Findlay Market was basically my favorite thing to happen in Cincinnati in 2010, and five years later it's a genuine struggle for me to not order it every single day for downtown lunch delivery.

Nevertheless, I decided not to let the fact that I could get a likely souperior (barf!) phở chay for, like, $6 rather than slaving away and spending, like, $1 million at Saigon Market keep me from trying.

Let's see how long I can put off listing all these ingredients!

But then I was reading Yotam Ottolenghi's beautiful Plenty More, and came across the recipe that finally . Definitely phở-inspired, but not claiming authenticity. I had to adapt it a bit based on what I could find, but there's so much here that I was never afraid it would lack flavor. I mean, look at all this stuff that went into the broth and then into my trash can!

Is that really weird that I just posted a picture of my trash can? Okay, here are some clean, minimalist rice noodles to make up for it:

The broth is so flavorful you won't believe it only takes 45 minutes to make. It has a pleasant but very present compounding heat, and that addictive quality that makes you slurp it faster and faster. It's balanced by a sourness from the tamarind and lime, and the freshness of the cilantro and Thai basil makes you think you're doing something great for your body. And you know what? You are.

This is definitely a soup that's best served immediately upon finishing it, but there was a bit left over and I gotta say: it wasn't bad served with a poached egg for breakfast.

Memorable and delicious, I'm going to call this one a success. It was also fun, as always, having Andy and Karl over -- The only regret I had was not knowing beforehand that poor Andy hates mushrooms. He was such a good sport about powering through it that it warmed my heart even more than the soup did. Honestly, I've been expecting this to happen forever, but I wasn't prepared for how guilty I'd feel for not checking. At least I only used two types of mushrooms instead of the prescribed three! And they're really more garnish than anything; you could certainly adapt the veg here to your taste. For instance, I saw the cutest little baby bok choy heads at the market and decided they were completely necessary for the experience although they weren't in the original recipe.

Speaking of that recipe, there's an error in the book that makes the method for the broth a bit unclear. So, I don't know if this tasted exactly how it was supposed to, but it sure tasted good.

TL;DR - Soup again!

P.s.: If anyone is down for a trip to Vietnam, so am I, friendo. Or you could just, like, Photoshop me into a still of Tony in Vietnam. You know, either way.

Faux Phở

Serves Six
Adapted from Hot-and-Sour Mushroom Soup in Yotam Ottolenghi's Plenty More

For the broth:

1 tablespoon sunflower oil
3 small onions, coarsely chopped
3 small carrots, coarsely chopped
6 stalks of celery, coarsely chopped
a 4" piece of ginger, peeled and coarsely chopped
6 cloves of garlic, peeled
3 stalks of lemongrass, coarsely chopped
12 prunes
6 red Thai chiles, coarsely chopped
6 star anise pods 
2 tablespoons tamari
stems from 1 bunch of cilantro
2 tablespoons tamarind paste

Heat the sunflower oil in a stock pot over high heat and add onion, carrot, celery and ginger, then cook for five minutes. Add lemongrass, prunes, chiles, cilantro stems and star anise along with 2 1/2 quarts of water (10 cups). Bring to a boil then reduce heat to simmer and add tamari and tamarind paste. Simmer for 45 minutes. Meanwhile, prep all ingredients for finishing the soup (below). After 45 minutes, strain and return broth to pot.

For the soup:

1 pound fresh rice noodles (or probably about 7 ounces dry)
2 cups thinly sliced white mushrooms
2 cups thinly sliced shiitake caps

3 heads of baby bok choy, leaves separated
juice from 2 limes
 leaves from 1 bunch of cilantro
2/3 cups torn Thai basil leaves
1 1/2 cups bean sprouts
2 cups green beans, cut into 2" pieces, boiled for 4 minutes and then run under cold water to stop cooking
toasted sesame oil

Prepare rice noodles according to package directions, being sure to run them under cold water when they're done cooking. Divide noodles among six bowls.

Heat the finished broth to a simmer, then add mushrooms and  baby bok choy and cook for one minute. Add lime juice, cilantro and Thai basil, bean sprouts and green beans and cook one more minute. 

Ladle soup on top of noodles and add a few tiny drops of sesame oil on top of each bowl.