Dish 2: Pho

I was going through my Pokemon collection of boyfriends, paramours, and tricks and I noticed that whenever they wanted comfort food they would always ask for meatloaf, chicken noodle soup, lasagna … White people stuff. When Asians want comfort food, it requires the pillaging of rice fields and the sacrifice of many animals. When I am sick, I want congee or pho. I am not going to describe congee, a white, unctuous mixture of water and rice, but it really is quite disgusting. In the grand scheme of things, pho, if you are a reader: of Fast Food Nation, The Omnivore’s Dilemma, and Los Angeles County Food Inspector Reports, is equally heinous. What is chicken noodle soup to my ex boyfriend, is pho to the Vietnamese. Pho comprises of thin clear noodles in a beef stock. But this is no traditional beef stock. The base is not one of bullion cubes, rather, what we are talking about is a stock with all the parts of the cow. Under a slick of fat, you will find tendons, tripe, and various other unmentionables. The soup is greasy, fatty and - beefy. So vile is this bovine elixer, you are encouraged to dump handfuls of bean sprouts, mint, and all other types of vegetation to cut through the grease. And guess what, when my white blood cells are fighting the good fight, I will be slurping my noodles and smacking my lips with remnants of tendon.