This time it's pho real

It finally happened. Yesterday, I had my very first bowl of pho in Viet Nam. You might be asking yourself: Why is this so significant for Molly?? Well, I've been eating the noodle dish forever. Literally. My mom ate a decent amount of pho when she was pregnant with me, and I grew up on bowls of the soup from our local spot, Pho 75. For as long as I can remember, I've been obsessed with the dish.

Eating pho in Viet Nam was a very different experience than in the U.S. We sat on tiny plastic stools just a foot off the ground. There was no indoor seating at the restaurant -- just small tables on a busy street corner. Each table was pre-decked out with the usual garnishes: fresh basil and lime, plum sauce, and thinly sliced chili peppers. Despite the air being thick with humidity and motorbike exhaust, the steaming bowl of soup was refreshing. And, what goes better with pho than an iced coffee (pronounced ca-phe)?

My advice to you: if you ever make it to Viet Nam, eat pho on a wobbly plastic stool in the heart of Saigon at 7:30 a.m. and watch the symphony of motorbikes, cars and buses go by. It's magical.

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