I came here for Pho... and I had it. It was good, but nothing to rave about. I guess I just don't have that craving for fishy soup. Ever. But when I do, I keep getting unimpressed. One could argue that i should stop eating Pho if I don't like it - but it's not that I do not like it, it's that I keep expecting to feel the Aha-moment that a lot of Californians seem to have been blessed by. I also realize that Pho is flavored by, to the western eye, strange things like tendon. Am I suppose to eat it, or it's just suppose to sit in the bottom like my personal bowl-kraken? Hoping not to disturb it which my wild amateurish chop stick-fu, in which point it'll fling up it's fattiness onto my spoon.. and heaven forbid into my mouth. Because that happened. As traumatic as it was, maybe this is part of the experience... I simply do not know. Maybe one day I understand why this is supposed to lurk under the surface of my soup and make me pay full attention to what I am fishing up, ready to be identified before attempting to being devoured.
The place was clean and the service was absolutely OK.