Nang Saigon

Ah, Pho. Nothing quite beats a hot bowl of pho, especially on a cold winter day. I've had the honor of tasting many pho in the Greater Toronto Area. If you name a pho place in Brampton or Mississauga, I've probably heard of it, if not eaten there before. Pho is a great dish, often cheap, that's filling, wholesome and hearty. It's probably one of the best dishes out there, due to its cheapness, reliability, and flavor balance.

But this... this isn't that. This pho transcends mortal expectation of pho. It exceeds all other pho I've tried in the GTA. It brought a tear to my eye on my first bite, and I remained enthralled by it throughout the meal. After the meal was over, I couldn't help thinking about it, its sheer perfection in a bowl.

But how does one quantify perfection, such that it is an experience quantified in a review?

My criteria for Pho:

Broth

A good broth is a balanced one. Often clear in nature, but darkening as it descends the bowl, a good broth is clear of grit and substance, yet yields a hearty flavour. Acceptable colours are always a gradient, from clear broth on the top, to a yellowish brown at the bottom, always with minimal color from grit. In terms of flavor, a good broth will be balanced between its flavours, retaining complexity while never overpowering the other ingredients. Lastly, I am of the opinion that a good broth needs no sauce, but sauce is optional if one prefers.

Meat

The meat must be fresh, with no barnyard flavours present. It should taste clean, with the underlying tones of earthiness and beefiness that one expects from fresh meat. Meat should be thinly sliced where possible, and be fresh. Tendon should be extremely fresh, not soggy to the point of disintegration, yet not cold in the centre. I often get the house special, as this tends to include the most variety of meats, as well as the restaurant's specialties.

Veggie Mix

As with everything, balance is key. The mix of vegetables should provide enough crunch that it is noticeable, and provides a textural contrast to the rest of the meal. Further, no vegetable should overpower the others. If a vegetable were to overpower the others, it would be cilantro, though only by a marginal effect.

Meat-to-Noodle Balance

There should be enough meat to cover the noodles, such that when one finishes the meal, no noodles are devoid of meat. Should there be more meat than noodles, this is no downside however, as meat is generally perceived as more expensive. An excess of meat in the soup is a luxury.

Portion Size to Cost

On average, a bowl of Large Pho and a Soft Drink is around $20 CAD. Anything around $20-25CAD is acceptable.

Now to the review:

Nang Saigon Review:

At the start, there was no hot tea, a mild negative in sub-zero temps. They were quick with water however, and the hostess had a classy vibe with fluent English - not a common occurrence in these types of restaurants. They gave a heads-up about a 10-min delay around 3:45 pm, though the food arrived 8 mins early—so all good there.

The beef broth stole the spotlight—it was a flavor bomb! Rich, beefy notes intertwined with a delightful hint of red wine sweetness. Not too heavy, yet not too light. The broth was not akin to water, yet not so oversaturated with oil. A remarkable balance of weightiness and lightness, with a touch of red wine notes. A stellar introduction that left a lasting impression.

Often times in pho, the meat is cooked well, but with no outstanding elements: it is as it should be. Not the case here however. With the two rib pho, you get two massive beef ribs, frenched for easier access to the meat. The meat itself is roasted, with a satisfying maillard crust. Perfectly seasoned, the meat is juicy, and provides staggering quality for a dish that traditionally uses meat scraps. Additionally, you get the sense that this rib was not used to create the dish: it contains all of its flavour, yet still manages to blend with the dish. It seems apparent that the rib is cooked separately then added to the dish. The meat is divine, no getting around it.

The blend of cilantro, red pepper, and onions added a refreshing dimension to the dish. Cilantro gave the classic Vietnamese flavours, and a modicum of crunch. The red peppers, while a rarity, offered a small kick and played well with the sweetness from the red wine. The onions were outstanding. Where in most restaurants, the onions tend to be red or white raw onions, these onions were clearly charred beforehand, offering up an intense bittersweet charred flavour. The green onion in the dish offered the crunch that traditionally the onions provided, but played well with the rest of the dish. I can find no downsides to the balance of garnishing vegetables, as it both performed on its own, but elevated the rest of the dish admirably.

As a result of having two ribs, the meat to noodles ratio is skewed. There is an abundance of rib meat, and not too many noodles. That being said, if there were more noodles, it would negatively affect the dish, as everything else is so much stronger. An abundance of meat over noodles is amazing, as it gives the impression that they spared no cost.

The portion size to cost is where things take a turn. At $31 for a two rib pho and a ginger ale, this is no value meal. Portion size is smaller than most Vietnamese places, and cost is higher. Though the drink cost is reasonable, the pho being $23 and $28 is high. This is the steakhouse experience of pho, and portion sizing and price reflects that.

In summary, this is a perfect bowl of pho, suitable for treat-yourself moments, but not as a daily value meal. In college, there were days I could survive off a single bowl of well timed pho. This is not that Pho. This pho would be a celebration pho: perhaps I did well on an exam, or achieved certification, and other special events. I recommend everyone try this pho at least once in their lives. Just, if you care for money (and your heart health), don't have it every day.

Above: N1. House Pho, with 2 ribs. Photo taken by Pocholo Arangote