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| - Whew.
And I mean, whew.
My friend and I headed to Pho Kim on Saturday night. I'd always wanted to try it as its right by my house and I've heard great things, but hadn't for the first two years of living nearby.
I was not missing a thing.
When we arrived, the place was packed, which was unexpected since we both though it would be kind of a dive. Not so: the interior was nicely decorated and we got more excited for the meal. Our server was very nice and the food was brought out quickly. If only the quality of the food was anywhere near the service, we would be grand. But no.
The pork spring rolls were ok-not very flavorful, and the meat was kind of mushy. My friend got a side salad with her meal, and I thought the ginger dressing was delicious! Thankfully, she ordered a big entree and gave me her salad. That and the spring rolls were the only things I could get down.
The first downturn: she got her soup. I honestly forget the kind of soup because as soon as she sipped it she wrinkled her nose and held up a spoonful of it to me.
"Smell this."
I did.
"Does this smell like wet dog to you?"
And yeah, it did. Exactly like wet dog.
"Thankfully it doesn't taste like wet dog," she said, which was probably just kind of her, knowing that I had ordered Pho.
I ordered the Pho Tai (rare beef) and it looked delicious when it arrived, with fixings--greens and sprouts--on the side. I picked up my spoon and sipped the broth, my excitement vanishing quickly. I glanced over at my friend.
"Wet dog?"
Yup. Again, it smelled exactly like wet dog.
I switched to the noodles, hoping the smell wouldn't be overpowering. Nope. Still bad. I legitimately plugged my nose as I took a sip of the broth.
Off the look of disgust on my face, she asked : "does it taste like wet dog?" I responded that I didn't know, but it did taste like the bathroom air after giving Molly (you guessed it, my dog) a bath.
"Then it tastes like wet dog, my friend."
After that conclusion, I made no more attempts at eating the meal. I did sniff the broth a couple more times, hoping in vain that the smell had gone away. It had not.
Now look, I'm not saying I was actually served dog as the meat in my meal. That's a crappy and disturbing stereotype that's thrown around at Asian restaurants far too often. What I am saying is that, regardless of what meal I ordered, it should not have tasted or smelled like my dog's bath time.
My friend's hibachi arrived somewhere in this dog smell saga, and while it all tasted fine, it was lukewarm at best. Fried rice? Cold. Shrimp? Cold. Steak? Cold.
Our server did apparently think it was one of our birthday's, since we were given a free mochi desert, so that was weird but nice.
I'd love to give an extra star for the service but I don't think that's a fair rating for a restaurant I will never go back to.
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