Pho (For) Good Health: Pho Hoa

Despite the widespread popularity of ramen shops, I have never really jumped into the bandwagon.  I'm not really fond of noodles in general, whether it be the soupy or the dry variety.  The only noodle dish that works for me is the Jolly Spaghetti.  No kidding.  Even the ubiquitous cup noodles are my last resort only when I'm strapped for cash.

Nevertheless, my idea of a warm bowl of hearty noodle soup is not ramen, not even chicken mami (but the lomi may pass my standards if done correctly).  When I hear "noodle soup", the first thing that conjures in my mind is a good bowl of pho. 

Vietnamese food is known for its simplicity and reliance on herbs and shrubs, with little emphasis on meat.  Thus, it makes for a healthy yet filling alternative.  Pho Hoa was one of the pioneer franchises in Vietnamese noodle soups, gaining a steady and loyal following through the years (mostly elderly!).  I had my first pho experience in the US, and it was a unique flavor for my palate.  I enjoyed munching through crisp mongo sprouts while sipping the fragrant broth, the goodness seeping into my whole body.

Man's greatest invention: Sriracha!

So, on my Dad's pre-birthday celebration, after all his medical exam tests were good, we sought a healthy lunch for the day.  The Pho Hoa branch in ATC has been around even before the new wings were added.  Despite its small, almost claustrophobic area, it never loses its share of hungry followers.  We found our way to our seats, consisting merely of humble wooden chairs and an unimaginative table set.  Wasting no time, we promptly ordered after browsing the menu speedily.

Goi Cuon, P129

No Vietnamese course would be started correctly without the spring roll.  The fresh variety, the Goi Cuon, consisted of fresh vermicelli noodles, carrots and thin slices of shrimp and lean pork wrapped in a thin delicate rice paper.  The veggies were crisp and fresh, and perfectly paired with the peanut sauce dip.  This appetizer was a meal in itself.

Goi Ca, P195

Wanting to stuff our stomachs with more greens, we ordered another salad appetizer.  The Goi Ca was a chicken salad consisting of pulled chicken meat and a hodge-podge of shrubs.  There was cabbage, lettuce, carrots, and I could even make out slices of turnips. 

This heaping pile of leaves was topped generously with roasted peanuts which surprisingly matched the crunchiness of the greens with its own crisp and savory flavor.  I preferred dousing my salad with the accompanying vinaigrette to further up the ante.  It's a sad day for meat lovers.

Com Thit Nuong Cha Gio, P260

On second thought, I wouldn't survive the day without meat!  So I ordered a rice platter for myself.  With a long name sounding like an incantation, this rice platter was a hefty meal.  Consisting of a large serving of special fried rice (almost 1 and a half cups, I'd say), the grilled pork and a sliced single serve of fried spring roll was the perfect marriage of the two different methods of cooking.

No such thing as healthy pork?

The spring roll was crisp and plump with filling, akin to its fresh counterpart.  I wished I had more servings of this with my rice platter, but I had to make room for the pork.  The pork was lightly glazed in a sweet and tangy marinade, and then charred perfectly to give that smokey taste and texture.  It had the right fat-to-meat ratio, staying in tune to the overall healthy vibe of Pho Hoa.  Best enjoyed with the light vinegar dip, although I did douse some of the pieces with the salad vinaigrette!  It tasted good actually.

Pho Do Vien, P350 (large)

For the parents, they shared a large bowl of a hearty concoction of seafood noodle soup, the Pho Do Vien.  This hefty bowl of herby, almost medicinal, fragrant broth combined thin rice noodles with the briny flavor of the sea.  Chunky mounds of fish balls and sweet succulent shrimps simmered in the soup as if in their own habitat.  All sorts of greens (of course adding the mongo sprouts) gave life and flavor to the overflowing broth.

Under the sea...

The flavor of the broth was perfect and typical of pho, not too salty, but exuding the leafy taste of healthy foliage.  Dashing a few drops of sriracha amps up the spice level and gets the blood pumping.  The only complaint was that the soup went cold too fast (blame the aircon perhaps?).  But not to worry, the wait staff was quick to refill your bowl with the hearty broth with a fresh warm serving.  Yes, I did say refill.  Make friends with the waiter and he'll even give you another bowl of soup to go.  That's what he did for us!

Staying healthy has never been this delicious and appetizing.  Who said eating shrubs was a drudgery?  With the flavors and benefits of veggies captured masterfully by Pho Hoa, it's a small wonder that the elderly often prefer a bowl of pho than any MSG-laden ramen or mami.  And, as I always quip whenever I eat Vietnamese cuisine, I have never seen any obese Vietnamese national, whether on TV, movies, or even personally.  So this must be their secret to keeping fit: a bowl of warm pho, a few fresh spring rolls, and lean grilled meat.  So pass me the sriracha as I finish another serving of pho.  Pho The Win.

Jones

Pho Hoa 

Alabang Town Center

Alabang-Zapote Road, Muntinlupa City  

https://www.facebook.com/phohoainc

Read more

Of Better Days: Kenji Tei Ramen House

A long long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... There was once a small Japanese noodle house hidden among the countless establishments along Aguirre Avenue in BF Homes.  Quiet and unassuming, it had its loyal followers who almost swore to death in secrecy, never to divulge this wonderful paradise.  Well, for that matter, I had that kind of mentality anyway. And so, these photos of a by-gone era sat on my desktop folder for more than a year.  Until finally the secret was no more, with Kenji Tei moving on to greener pastures and expanding its horizons.

Sadly, some die-hard fans, like me, felt abandoned and betrayed.  You see, there was a time when Kenji Tei was that hole-in-the-wall, budget-friendly, neighborhood Japanese restaurant, an escape from the tasteless commercialism of other joints.  Let me muse about its long gone age of glory.

Back then, Kenji Tei was really cramped: it could only comfortably sit around 15 people. But it was cozy, with tall glass panes and bright lights.  Its facade was tempting and inviting.  Its interior was simple, and the food was the star.  

The menu was simple. Better yet, affordable.

On any usual visit at a Japanese restaurant, I always order my beloved favorite, the sacred dish, the beef Gyudon.  We then ordered a slew of other tasty treats.

Gyudon, (then around P200-225; now P296)

The gyudon was simply one of the best I have ever tasted.  And that says a lot.  The bowl was nearly filled to the brim.  Each slice of beef was tender and succulent, with just the right amount of fat to tease the palate and not hurt your arteries.  The radish and sliced onion did more than garnish, it balanced the sweet, salty taste of the sauce with its touch of spice and zest.  There were a few traces of shitake in the mix, but I would have preferred more.  Glaringly lacking however was the raw egg, but I believe I could have ordered it to be added. But the presentation was absolutely gorgeous that the raw egg couldn't add any more superlatives to this dish.  It was a sight to behold.

Flash forward to a more recent visit at Kenji Tei's newer location in Greenbelt 5.  Amidst the beauty and grandeur of their newer branch, I expected my order of gyudon to deliver.  Not just in the presentation, but of course in the taste.  To my utter disappointment, here is what welcomed me back:

Who put ants on my bowl of rice?

The sacred gyudon: dismantled and dismembered

It doesn't take a food genius to choose which version of the gyudon looked more inviting.  And it's not even my camera.  It was outright sacrilege to dismantle the gyudon this way.  I have never encountered such a travesty!  In my purist opinion, the gyudon is supposed to be eaten all together in one bowl, the sauce draping the wonderful white rice; the beef dripping its flavor onto the wholeness of the dish.  Not in this defiling way.  My sacred gyudon reduced to the level of what appears to be a hot plate.  All this with a hefty price increase, further adding insult to injury.  

Back to the past.  Kenji Tei dished out one of its best-sellers, and still is. The spicy cheese gyoza.  A small package packing a lot of punch.

Cheese Gyoza, (then P100-120, now P198)

Each piece was generously packed with ground pork and lovely cheese.  The spicy mayo dip was the perfect partner to this mouth-watering appetizer.  A meal in itself, I used to see some people ordering just this to-go.  A testament to this fabulous creation.  What was once a steal at just above a hundred bucks, is now overpriced at almost twice that.  I would still order this of course.  That's how good it is.

Crispy Chicken Teriyaki (then around P180-200, now P228)

Another sublime dish, the Crispy Chicken Teriyaki was a sure winner.  The teriyaki sauce embraced each piece of chicken fried to a juicy crisp.  The sauce was perfect, not too sweet, with a hint of salt.  There was once a time when BF Homes was the home of the crispy chicken teriyaki, with Little Rio's own creation ruling the west, and Kenji Tei's masterpiece lording over the east.  But that was a golden age long gone.  I haven't tried out the teriyaki again, but I fervently hope that it would still be its old self: pure bliss.

Ebi Tempura, 5 pcs. (then P220-250, now P368!)

Perhaps, one of the bigger (pun intended) reasons why I chose not to divulge this previous secret was Kenji Tei's stunning serving of the Ebi Tempura.  Each large piece of tiger prawn was lightly but lovingly dressed in the crunchy tempura batter, enticing one to immediately partake of this dish.  And when I say large, I mean REALLY large.  This was one of the biggest servings of tempura I have ever encountered, if not the biggest.  And it's not just the breading.  The shrimp was huge and fresh and succulent.  As I had my first bite, I vowed selfishly never to share this secret.  

But Kenji Tei was destined to leave its comfortable nook for the greener pastures of the Ayala malls, the first in Greenbelt 5 and the other in ATC.  And with its transfer was the inevitable escalation of prices.  (Notice that I quoted the previous prices in range, I could only roughly remember the actual previous ones.  But I'm pretty sure the prices increased by at least P50-P60 per dish).  Of course, its newly baptized followers would never complain about the price increase.  But to those who worshiped Kenji Tei in its infancy, it was sheer betrayal. What used to be an affordable Japanese indulgence was now a proud superstar.  Don't get me wrong, I still love Kenji Tei, despite its violation of my sacred gyudon.  But with its heftier price tags, its disappointing transformation of the gyudon, and now longer queues, I sadly might search for another.  One that will stand for what Kenji Tei used to deliver among the BF homies.

Feel free to chastise me for my bitter critique of Kenji Tei.  But this is the sad truth of establishments going for bigger markets.  I love Kenji Tei, and will forever be loyal to it.  Ramen enthusiasts heap praises on its new branches (I am not a ramen fan), and I believe it should be one of the best ramen houses.  But, I still hope Kenji Tei will not forget its other masterpieces, the gyudon, for one, and the chicken teriyaki, the other.  Here's hoping that someday, prices would be more reasonable (if not back to previous levels), and that Kenji Tei will return to its days of legendary lore.  For those loyal fans.

Kenji Tei Ramen House

Now with two branches:

3rd Level, Greenbelt 5 AND Alabang Town Center (near the cinemas)

https://www.facebook.com/kenjitei

Read more