I'll just have the soup.
It is no big secret that I am quite partial to food. I think Orson Welles said it best: "My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four. Unless there are three other people."I greatly enjoy ethnic cuisine with Thai and Indian being my favourites, but for the longest time, I was unable to be satisfied with Vietnamese cuisine.
That changed last year when I had the opportunity to spend some time with a Vietnamese woman. I explained to her that although I had tried Vietnamese food, I didn't really find it that appealing. She suggested we go to a restaurant and she would introduce me to good Vietnamese food.
We skipped the main courses and simply went with the spring rolls and soup. That was a good experience. Vietnamese soups are very hearty and tasty and a meal in their own right. It was interesting to eat the soup with chopsticks and a spoon. Using the chopsticks to pick pieces of meat and vegetables and noodles into my mouth, while using the spoon to sip at the broth.
Now, whenever I go to a Vietnamese restaurant, I only order a large bowl of soup. Sofia still insists on ordering a main dish, but, still, I never find them as tasty or satisfying as the soups.
Image nabbed from here.
Comments
its nice to hear from you again,Richard!
ghee
ghee: I always visit, though not as frequently as I should. And, I haven't always been leaving comments.
I like the spicy soups. Of course, I always like spice in my life.
I have a short story to tell.
In the early 80s, when Canadian communities and churches sponsored hundreds Vietnamese refugees, one family opened a terrific restaurant in Bedford, a Halifax suburb. I wrote about the place in my restaurant column, and probably ate there once a month. It was an adorable place, with their kids doing homework nearby, and working as wait staff when it was busy, which was often
The restaurant eventually closed, as the family went on to do other things, but I still dream about their hot and sour soup.
Some time, about a decade later, I was out shopping, when a gorgeous woman greeted me like an old friend, and gave me a huge hug. She was so beautiful that I almost couldn't stand. I also didn't recognize her.
But it was one of the family's daughters, who used to serve me hot and sour soup when she was an eight-year-old. It was wonderful to learn that she had great memories of that period, too.