Lang Van is a second-look hottie. You know, the boy/girl who, upon first inspection seems a little disheveled and oddly shoed, and only wants to talk about the first release of the first Joy Division album and you're all audible eyerolls but then: you notice the fragile bow of their upper lip and their adorable husky laugh and the canary yellow socks that accompany their unselfconscious pigeon toes and suddenly you just want to get married? I KNOW. me too.
They're in a weird half-intersection that's a bit of a clusterfuck next to a used car-lot. And because my brain hates me I was silently singing along to Whitney Houston's "I wanna dance with somebody" on the violin and dramatic piano muzak that was playing. You could drive right by Lang Van and never know.
The food. Made me want to write Neruda-style love poems about it. Sparkling basil, mint, and cilantro flavors like new cherry blossoms on warm spicy broth saplings. I stuffed myself to the point of discomfort simply to try and pinpoint where the star anise flavor ended and the beef began. The pho is better than any you've ever had. Swear.
Top 5:
-The pho. doye.
-the do it yourself spring roll things with the bowl of hot water. do it.
-Banh Xeo, yellow pancake.
-Crispy quail.
-The specials.
Enjoy it for me when you go because I only get it like once a year.