Friend or pho?

I love pho. That broth. That rare sliced beef that cooks ever so gently and tenderly. The fresh basil. The bean sprouts that you put in ASAP so they soften to perfection. The lime. The extra lime, and can I use yours too, actually.

My hands down favorite pho joint on the westside is Le Saigon. I go there when I'm sick, when I'm well, when I'm cold, when I'm warm, when I've just finished a major climbing session, and when I've been sitting in front of my TV for way too long. It's really my go-to meal.

I usually order #3, pho tai. And this place, because it's awesome, has DIY rolls where they give you the rice wrap, sliced meat, veggies, and sauce, and you, well, DIY. It's perfect for the chef in all of us. That's #17, I believe. And they run your order out to your car in the back alley so you don't have to try to park on SM Blvd. And their service is unparalleled by any other Asian restaurant.

The fact that I heart Le Saigon, however, really makes me dislike other pho joints. I shall not name them for fear of taking away even more business in a down economy, but the pho experience elsewhere just does not compare. So when it's Monday and Le Saigon is on hiatus and I've been sitting at the bus stop way too long in my too-thin sweater for 6:30pm and I really just want that steaming hot bowl of pho tai, I begin to curse Le Saigon for making me even consider going to another place.

Damn you and your sriracha too.