Yo’ Vietnamese Granny

Better than sex and pizza? You be the judge.

PHO BAC 1240 S. Jackson and 1314 S. Jackson 206-568-0882 10 a.m.-9 p.m. daily

If there’s not enough room in your office cubicle for grandma to cook up a nice pot of her hot chicken soup for your chapped, chilly winter soul, Vietnamese pho is most definitely the next best thing. Silky, salty broth, slippery noodles, fresh vegetables, a smorgasbord of beef, pork, or seafood, all topped with crisp bean sprouts, sharp chiles, crushed basil and a dash of hoisin sauce—done right, it almost doesn’t get any better.

Unfortunately, pho is a lot like sex and pizza: an excellent thing that can still be done badly. Pho Bac may not be the very best outpost in town, but it’s one of the most popular, and it’s not impossible to see why; the broth is light and piquant without sodium and/or fishy overload; the addings-on are fresh—or even still cooking when they arrive; the portions are large and the prices low ($4.75 for a hefty medium, $5.75 for a ridiculous large). The protein options are not for the meat-queasy: Beef pho choices include round steak, meat balls, tendon, tripe, and “marbled fat meat brisket,” though tofu, chicken breast, and vegetable are also available. The larger outpost, located across the parking lot from the tiny quick-serve pho hut, also serves com (rice dishes) and bn (vermicelli bowls). The bn with broiled beef rib ($5.75) disappeared down my lunch companion’s hatch quicker than a Jell-O shot, though he admitted he could have done without the bone-on, jerky-like texture of the beef. Spring rolls ($1.50) are the equivalent of a sorbet-style palate cleanser—fresh basil, cool, silky tofu and slim noodles in a chewy rice-paper wrapping—while the egg rolls ($1) brim with all the yummy, MSG-saturated flavor of the deep fryer. Replace dessert with a sweet drink, like Sua H�༯I> (egg, condensed milk and soda), Caf頓ua DἯI> (iced French coffee with sweet milk), or fresh coconut juice, all under $2. And if grandma’s up for a little adventure, bring her, too.

lgreenblatt@seattleweekly.com