Fragrant broth. Rare beef. Rice noodles. Steaming bowl of home-made pho.
Now, here’s my ritual:
Handful of cilantro, 4-6 thai basil leaves, 2-3 ngo gai long leaves.
Generous squirt of rooster chili sauce. Toss of bean sprouts. Sprinkle of green onions. Squeeze of lime.
Dash of black pepper. Another squirt of rooster.
Serious business, pho sho.
Yep. Ok, inhale and dig in! And there’s nothing quite like it.
My mother insinuates that I’ll fail at life if I don’t learn how to make pho. Or, fail as a wife.
I gently remind her that I’m not married.
She shakes her head.
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