I picked up some Vietnamese chicken soup for dinner last night. Pho ga, as it’s called. I ordered two. When the woman confirmed my order, I swear she said, “You f-er.” Maybe it was “Two pho ga.” I don’t have a pho-ing clue. After a moment of confusion, I pulled up to the window and waited for my order.
The lady handed me 2 large bags of food. “Are these both for me?” “Yes. Two bags. Thank you.” Ummm. Ok. I headed home.
I got home and unpacked. This is what I found.
Hmmm. No instructions. No guidance. I didn’t know what the pho I was supposed to do.
So I did this.
Then, I figured I’d just go pho it. I’m not sure exactly what the leafy stuff is. It tasted a little like poison ivy.
The only problem, they obviously didn’t plan very well. I’m not complaining about the quantity of soup. But the container, well, you’ll notice a soaked paper towel around the base. Maybe the container should have been a little bigger. Like twice bigger. But there was no turning back now.
What is pho without some sriracha type substance and a little soy goo, right?
I went to town.
Since there were no instructions, it was by luck that I discovered a cache of chicken in the bottom of the container. This was a game changer.
All I can say is holy pho, that’s a lot of pho. You f-er.