phaking pho

Often, my impetus to make a new recipe is driven by a bit of research. The process usually starts when I notice something in the fridge that needs to be used soon, and I think, "I'm pretty sure that's in Thai food!" or "That would be good with beef!" Then I go through our cookbooks, or recipe websites, or at least check Wikipedia to find what the most traditional forms involve. Sometimes, that leads to falling down rabbit holes. Usually, it leads to a grocery list.

This time, I didn't bother with any of that.

I'd made some Creamy Salmon Pasta for the Chief Taster, because it's one of her perennial favorites, and had a bunch of green onions left in the fridge when I finished.  Somehow, that led me to decide to make some pho (the first time I ever saw that link was when I looked it up while writing this post).  It was a risky choice, because I've only had pho once or twice.  I'm not equivocating; I honestly don't know whether one of those was pho.  I'm certain the second time was pho, because a coworker picked the restaurant, told me what we were having, and even suggested a menu choice. The first time I was on my own somewhere in California, and thought I'd go get some authentic cuisine by visiting the place with signs I couldn't read.  I couldn't read the menu, either.  And none of the staff spoke enough English to clarify anything for me.  My selection was based on the mangled English translations of the menu items, and I was brought a bowl of broth and tendons that might have had a boiled hoof in it.

I based my recipe on the other version.

This is what I remembered: pho was an aromatic beef broth full of basil and maybe garlic?  It should have noodles, beef, and I decided mine should have vegetables, too.

The Chief Taster is afraid of beef bouillon for the same reason she's afraid of hamburgers, so I couldn't use beef broth unless I made it for real, and I didn't want to invest that kind of time.  I got some chicken bouillon, and on a whim, some vegetable-flavor "Better Than Bouillon."

Phake Pho
3/4 to 1 lb. skirt steak, cut diagonally into thin strips
1 C diced celery
1.5 C sliced carrot
8 oz sliced mushrooms
3-4 green onions, chopped
2 cloves minced garlic
fresh basil (I just bought one of those handy clamshells and used the whole thing. Use however much basil you want.)
6 C broth
noodles (I used rice noodles, because I wanted to try them. I also considered egg noodles.)
fresh chives (because I already had them)
olive oil
salt and pepper

• I used a deep cast iron skillet. If that's not an option for you, use a skillet to brown the meat and cook the veggies, and move them into a soup pot as they're ready.
• Brown the beef in a little olive oil, seasoning it with some salt and pepper, because you really don't need more than that. (Though I admit that I used kosher salt, and ground plenty of pepper in there, because I like pepper)  The Chief Taster was shocked that I hadn't done any more than that to season the beef.

Cows are delicious.

• Scoop the browned beef out of the skillet and onto a plate (or the soup pot, if you're going down that road). Toss the mushrooms into the beef juices so they can soak it up and cook a little.  Just as they're well coated and start to soften, add the carrots, celery, and garlic. Saute until crisp-tender. (you could leave the veggies a little under-done if you want. When we ate the soup, I thought some of the carrots might have cooked too long)

• Put the meat back in the skillet (or move the veggies into the soup pot--from here on, we're all in the same pot), add the green onion, broth, and basil, and bring to a boil. Turn down the heat and let it simmer 20-30 minutes.  I just pulled the basil leaves off the stems and never bothered to cut them up. I assumed they'd wither like spinach, and I was right. Do what you will.

It's just started to cook, so the basil still looks like basil.  Give it time.

• While the soup simmers, cook the noodles.  I'd recommend only cooking the noodles you need for the amount of soup that will be eaten that night, and cooking more noodles later for any leftovers.  Soup noodles don't reheat very well; they just go mushy.  When the noodles are ready, serve the soup into bowls, top with a scoop of noodles and some chopped chives if you feel ambitious, or want to clean out the fridge.

My final photographs never look very good, because by that time I'm more interested in consumption than documentation.

Full disclosure: the Chief Taster has never had pho, hooves or otherwise, so she had no idea what it was supposed to be.  However, whatever I served her made her very happy.  She later pointed out to me that she had been too busy shoveling it into her face to say so at the time.  It may not be real pho, but it was really tasty.