A good bowl of soup should make you sweat. Coming from a Jewish family, comfort food has always equaled hot chicken soup, with or without matzah balls. Last Tuesday, we found something much better– Pho. Beef broth with thin strips of rare beef, dense meatballs, and thin rice noodles, accompanied by a bottle of sriracha (Vietnamese chili sauce) and a platter of limes, bean sprouts, Thai basil, and sliced jalapeños. With a healthy squirt of sriracha and a handful of jalapeños, we were definitely sweating.
A veritable hole in the wall with eight large tables and an enigmatic giant goldfish, Pho Mai sits at 570 Main Street. The lone waiter is friendly enough, and the service is pretty quick. Dinner here is not candle-lit, so don’t rush here for a fancy date, but there’s something about drinking hot, spicy broth with friends that makes life seem pretty pleasant.
“Spicy food burns the tiny nerve cells on your tongue, sending pain signals to your brain,” said fellow gastronomical adventurer Max Shafer-Landau ’14. “In response, your brain releases endorphins, which is what makes you feel good.”
Personally, we’ve made a habit of disbelieving everything Max says, but if you really care, go look it up. Now back to the soup.
Pho Mai offers many variations on the noodle plus broth plus stuff formula; beef, chicken, or vegetarian broth, swimming with seafood, tofu, or the aforementioned beef and meatballs. The original pho (with beef broth) is the best bet; the chicken stock lacks a little of the cow-bone flavor that makes pho so delicious.
Compared to the pho, however, the appetizers here are a bit lackluster. Fresh spring rolls, made with sprouts, shrimp, pork, and miscellaneous veggies are only decent. The fried egg rolls are better but still nothing special, and the dipping sauces are mildly disappointing. Both the rolls and soups can be made vegetarian for those “carniphobes” among us.
At about eight bucks for a large bowl, Pho Mai is a pretty reasonable deal, considering dinner at Usdan is 10 points a pop. Pho Mai only accepts cash, though, so remember to bring your wallet. With a convenient BYOB policy, you can get your night started early over dinner—if you’re of age of course.
For any starving college students looking for some cheap comfort food near campus, Pho Mai is worth a shot. Spicy, flavorful, and hot, we definitely left the place happy and full. Is this pho the world’s best? Maybe not.
“But hey,” said a Vietnamese-American sophomore, “We are in Connecticut.”
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