Pho 1 Vancouver

Tis a terrible trial I put myself to. To wander like a lost pilgrim across misty plains, from 4th Plain to Mill Plain and far beyond seeking the soul saving Broth of the mysterious Pho. It tis in fact, a pho, pho better thing than I have ever done. My journey brings me to Pho Vi Van and once again I have struck culinary gold. I love the little fish pond that runs along the window so I do not feel so all alone. I love the flyer in the front that gives me detailed instructions to enlightenment, great dinner time reading that. And right off the bat, I loved the fried wontons which looked like little brown bear claws but tasted like a summer’s day! But the warm savory foundation of a place like this is the broth. Ah, a feast for the eyes before the first taste, I love the red and the mysterious depths, as if there might be sea monsters and sunken treasure, perfect. I take a sip of the broth and the spice hits me right smack in the loves. Peppery with some strong anise with meat as tender as the look in the eye of a baby doe. Did my nose run? Like I had robbed a bank and the gendarmes were hot on my trail. Did I sweat? Like me momma was given me the third degree. Did I consume every living drop right down to the white of the bowl? Like the locusts of the field! It was complicated but pure, hot but not so bad as to hide the taste. The service was good, the place is on the other side of nowhere, but worth every mile and the decor feels like they put a bit of thought into it. Plus they let me sit in the window by the fish pond so I could keep my eye on my big ugly truck.