Vay V.
Yelp
I came. I slurped. I side-eyed.
After hearing the buzz about Pho Momma, Michelin recognized and apparently home to the wings that launched a thousand Yelp reviews... I found myself in a 45-minute line contemplating life, love, and whether any bowl of soup is worth my legs going numb on a sidewalk.
I ordered the combo pho, hoping to be spiritually transported to noodle nirvana. The broth had depth, sure, but more like a kiddie pool than a deep end. I was craving layers, whispers of star anise and clove doing the cha-cha on my tongue, but alas it was more of a slow shuffle. Not bad, just... not singing to my soul. There was no complexity.
Then came the fish sauce glazed wings, a dish the internet practically knighted. Crispy? Yes. Glazed? Oh, very. But the fish sauce flavor was on vacation. Instead, I got smacked with sweetness like it owed me money. Where was the funky, salty, umami bomb I was promised? These wings were dressed for Coachella but forgot their passport to FlavaTown.
Next up, the nem nuong spring rolls with the egg roll wrapper. Texturally? A+. Crispy, snappy, gave me something to crunch while judging the rest of the meal. But flavor-wise? Pretty basic. The kind of roll you'd bring home to your parents and not the one you sneak out at 2AM thinking about.
Service? Well, let's just say several tables sat dirty for a solid 15 minutes on sevral occasions while the host played an Olympic-level game of "Ignore the Line." Table turnover isn't just slow, it's practically fermented.
Would I go back? Maybe. Would I wait 45 minutes again? Absolutely not. Not when Little Saigon exists, humming with hole-in-the-wall heroes, secret family recipes, and $12 giant bowls of magic that actually slap.
Verdict: Michelin nod or not, Pho Momma feels like that popular kid in school everyone hyped up but who peaked too early. She's still cute, but you might want to get your pho fix elsewhere.