Best Of Ten-Pho-Round Two: Vietnamese Noodles

Last Friday I kicked off one of the craziest and most gluttonous weekends of my life with a giant eponymous bowl of pho from Mequon's own Vietnamese Noodles. Joining Lisa (my partner in the tour de pho we masochistically assigned ourselves to) and myself was my very hungry wife.

Astute

Tommy's Experience 

I arrived a little bit early to the eyesore that Vietnamese Noodles is unfortunately embedded in. I put zero blame on the restaurant for it's location mind you; if you are going to try and open up any sort of establishment in Mequon you'll likely be doing it in a strip mall. Even the Bartolotta supper club Joey Gerard's is crammed in to one of the many depressing brown strip malls you'll find in the 'quon. Making matters all the more irritating is the fact that some snotty sixteen year old gave me a dirty look for driving more than one mile per hour when entering the parking lot. Ugh, Mequon, you are truly determined to burrow an ulcer in to my stomach. But enough about that.

My wife and I arrived at the refreshingly not-at-all-cleverly named restaurant at around 2:30 PM. The place was totally dead, which wasn't shocking given the fact that it was well after lunchtime in a business district in a part of the state that's absolutely inundated with shitty, cutesy pseudo-chains like Noodles And Company and Cosi. One thing that made me a little concerned that the deadness was not only confined to hours that aren't typically busy was the fact that the menu had some whole pages covered up with ominous tape, signifying that there are a lot of items permanently off the menu. Most concerning to me was the restaurants elimination of bahn mi. Hopefully the kitchen is simply trying to reduce and re-focus on other menu items, but frankly speaking, part of me sees "menu reduction" and hears "death rattle".

Vietnamese Noodles menu looks a little hookah bar/Ed Hardy to me for some reason

Another issue was the fact that our service was pretty slow. This would be fine if there was a rush going on, but we were literally the only three people in the entire restaurant. When our server did interact with us he did so with a thick tone of ambivalence in his voice. I wouldn't go as far as to say the service was "rude" per se, just a bit on the nonchalant side of things for my taste. That being said this place was not in any way trying to be fancy or super accommodating or anything besides a place to sit down and get a basic ass bowl of noodles and then leave. This aesthetic is actually pretty refreshing when you put it in the middle of a bunch of businesses trying to zealously cram whole wheat tortillas or frozen yogurt down your throat.

We ordered our food, drinks, and a side of egg rolls, all which came out pretty quickly. Being the sophisticated dandy you have all come to know me as, I went with tea. Lisa once again ordered beer, this time because they were out of coffee, seemingly permanently(???). My wife also ordered beer. Almost everything came out at the exact same time but a couple of minutes ahead of the pho were the egg rolls. Spare the now shuttered Port China (rest in peace), I've never had an impressive egg roll experience. Vietnamese Noodles was no exception. Little bland tubes of crunch with some processed orange sweet sauce over the top of them.

Shortly after I had eaten a couple boring crunch tubes, my triumphantly huge bowl of pho emerged from the kitchen and was plunked down on my table. By way of some astonishing mental lapse I had ordered "the big bowl". Pho is never not served in giant portions so when our monotone server asked if I wanted the larger portion I said yes without batting an eye. Whatever.

The pho was good beyond expectation but that isn't to suggest it was mind blowing. What I am saying is that a restaurant in a strip mall in the dullest city on the planet shouldn't lend much to expectation, so when anything even mildly decent pops up it's always a bit of a surprise. Still, the pho did actually taste good. Under the weight of the litany of meat options the menu presented I ordered the unimaginative "sliced medium rare beef noodle soup".  Whenever I'm experiencing paralysis by choice I almost always choke and pick the most basic thing. The broth was good, the garnishes were plentiful, the noodles were the same exact noodles I've had in every bowl of pho ever, but the meat kind of sucked.  First off, there was just not very much of it, not even by pho standards. Secondly, I'm just going to assume from this experience that no matter which way you order your meat, it's going to come out extremely well done.

The verdict: All in all I'd say I enjoyed it. Nothing was excellent but I wasn't repulsed or alienated by anything either. If you can tolerate ambivalent service and want maybe the only decent thing to eat in the 262 area code that's under $10.00, swing by Vietnamese Noodles. Really I should say "swing by while you still can", as I got the distinct feeling that the restaurant was in it's final stages.

Was it better than Hue?: Pound for pound I'd say Vietnamese Noodles is the better of the two restaurants. The food felt more authentic, the prices were far more reasonable and for some sick reason I almost want to count the perfunctory nature of the staff as a plus. The entire experience coasted linearly in a comforting modesty. The fact that there is something decent and affordable to eat for lunch in Mequon also stands on it's own as an accomplishment.

The "big bowl"

Lisa's Experience

I met up with Tom and Steph for a late lunch last Friday at Mequon’s aptly named Vietnamese Noodles. Because of my inability to efficiently complete everyday tedious tasks (homework? errands?), poor spatial/map skills, and the unbelievably slow drivers that populate 43 north, I was twenty minutes late and rolled in starving and somewhat frantic. Luckily, we were literally the only customers in the place, so my lateness didn’t appear to be inconveniencing anyone except my friends, and well, they’re probably used to it.

Vietnamese Noodles is small and unassuming, nestled into a perfectly average suburban strip mall between stores so unremarkable I’ve already forgotten what they are. The menu was huge, in that sprawling, numerical, vaguely-overwhelming-in-its-breadth kind of way. Knowing ahead of time that you’re going to get pho of some kind certainly narrows it down, but they did have an appealing variety to choose from, ranging from traditional steak/flank to vegetarian to every kind of meat ever all in one bowl.

I opted for a rare steak and tendon bowl, better known as #11. After spending most of my last pho lunch with Tom jealously staring at his coffee/condensed milk, I wanted one for myself (also possibly a smoothie, because there’s no such thing as too many beverages, right?). Disappointingly, the (bored but polite) server informed me that there were no drinks other than water and tea (and maybe soda? I don’t remember because I was too busy sulking, apparently). The unexpected unorderable beverages sort of fit with my vague feeling that Vietnamese Noodles is maybe not a restaurant that is doing well, or is not managed well, or something like that, from how empty it was to the handwritten notes pointing out menu items that are no longer available, including all of the banh mi, which was a bummer.

:(

However, the arrival of the pho more than made up for any residual smoothie/coffee/banh mi angst--- huge steaming bowls (Tom’s was more like a trough, actually), heaping plate of basil/lime/jalapeño, and the broth, oh man, the broth. It was much more flavorful than Hue’s, more savory and with greater depths of meaty flavor. It was still light though, both in color and fattiness, which I like. I couldn’t resist adding a little Sriracha, chili paste, and hoisin, but it really wouldn’t be necessary since the broth is so tasty. My only complaint was that there really wasn’t that much meat in mine, like seriously only a few tiny pieces of tendon, which was kind of a disappointment, but at $8 for a large bowl I really can’t bring myself to be that bothered by it. In fact, it was so good that I bought another serving to go, ostensibly for my boyfriend, but wound up eating most of it myself the next day. Cool, I know.

Verdict: Undeniably more delicious than Hue. Ambience is meh, and it’s hard to say what you’ll be able to order, but who cares when the pho is good?

Vietnamese Noodles is open seven days a week 
Mon-Sat 10 am to 9 pm
Sun-10 am to 7 pm
1380 W. Mequon Rd, Mequon, WI 53092

Family Dinners

The "Family Recipe" spread.

In late November of 2013 I found myself sitting alone and disenchanted outside of the cafeteria of the Milwaukee Area Technical College's Mequon campus.  A combination of things led to that disenchantment.  First, Mequon is equal parts extreme wealth and cultural destitution.  As snobby as that sentence sounds, there are but a few decent restaurants in the entire city to cater to the surrounding elite.  The few saving graces that do exist are integrated in to the indistinguishable and sprawling network of strip malls that line Mequon's eponymous main road.  Credit is due to the actually good chefs working to make Mequon a better and more delicious place, but unless you're Todd Solondz, you're not wrenching anything inspirational out of the blank landscape that is Mequon.

Adding to that was my schedule. Class during the day and work during the night left little time for me to exist as an individual.  The few days that allowed me any free time became a balancing act of sustaining something of a social life, spending time with my wife and simply finding time to complete the general errands and tasks necessary to exist in this world.  A reality that necessitated rigid scheduling and cold pragmatism was fiercely at war with my spontaneous brain and my impractical heart. I'm impatient and spasmodically manic so the foundation of my plan to just put my head down and work for a few years may as well have been built on pudding.

With an impending meltdown afoot, I needed to supplant the static boredom that was my life with something.  It needed be something intimate and galvanizing, something special.  Food, being an obvious obsession in my life, often served as an escape for me.  I would spend hours reading food blogs, or fantasizing as I pored over reviews of the greatest restaurants in the world.  It didn't take for it to add up that this mania could be used as an avenue for something far more fulfilling.

Judah and Neenah getting ready for some comfort food.

In an attempt to hone my enthusiasm in to something solid I took an account of all of the things that make me tick.  Friends (often in a the more-the-merrier context), hosting events, sharing and consuming ridiculous amounts of food. Those ingredients combined to form the foundation of the very first family dinner. On January 6th, 2014, my wife and I hosted some of our closest friends for an enormous Middle Eastern feast.  We opted to start with Middle Eastern cuisine because it's accessible, absolutely delicious and has the feeling of food that is meant to be shared.  Since then we've hosted 25 other dinners, meaning literally hundreds of dishes have graced our rickety old dining room table. Sometimes we pick a region or city like Sicily or Bangkok, sometimes we pick something less structured, like "summer" or "family recipes".  Either way, the end product is always meaningful time spent with people who you love.

One the many victims of family dinner food coma

Marketing and consumerism have turned "tradition" in to a four letter word in our cynical generation. Everything is either shoddy in it's cheapness or gaudy in it's luxuriousness.  On top of that, we have become so connected by way of electronic device that personal face-to-face interaction has found itself in to expendability.  For me, family dinners break that mold.  Every few Sundays I have the extreme pleasure of drinking wine and sharing food with some of my close friends, in person, and that is a tradition worth cherishing. Moreover, it's one I suggest incorporating in to your own lives. Find yourself living wedged in the doldrums? Did five tons of snow fall on to your house, striking you with cabin fever? I recommend trying to cook yourself out of it.  Make something cozy, indulgent, and don't be afraid of simplicity. After you do that, tell your friends to pick up a bottle of cheap wine and invite them over. It may be a cliche, but I think you will find it true that true richness can be found anywhere, and can never be purchased.