Omid T.
Yelp
Lesson: Never trust a French newspaper or "Grand Chef" on ethnic food.
Cited as the "best Bo Bun" (the French misnomer for Bun Cha gio Bo) by Le Figaro and recommended by chef Alain Ducasse, Phó Taì Taì is efficient at best, but lazy and smelly at worst.
Service is incredibly rapid, with a big bowl of Pho Dac Biet and aforementioned "Bo Bun" appearing on the table less than five minutes after ordering. There was no need to ask for condiments, as an entire array - including delightfully hot bird's eye chilis - are already on the table, and the fish sauce comes conveniently in a small pitcher rather than a small dipping bowl.
The beef broth for the Pho is quite good... and that's about where it ends. For a "Dac Biet" (special) it was seriously lacking variety of meat or offal, containing only Chin (brisket) and Bo Vien (meatballs). Where's the Tai? Isn't this cut of rare meat what the damn restaurant is named after!? This Pho couldn't be any more "made for whitey" if it tried. Extra negative points are awarded for the wedge of lemon (instead of slightly more expensive lime) on the side.
The sauce smothering the beef in the Bo Bun tasted fine, but the beef itself was woefully overcooked, and very crudely cut, much like the tiny bit of vegetable at the bottom.
If anything, the presentation of each dish was swimming in apathy. Sure, for a cheap meal you're not expecting particularly good plating, but in a dish where the fineness of the cut of meat/cucumber/carrot dictates the experience, Phó Taì Taì excels at betraying its cuisine.
Adding insult to injury, the gigantic serving of Ca phé Sua Da (iced milk coffee) is made with regular milk instead of condensed milk, rendering it positively pointless amongst the canon of Vietnamese beverages.
Unfortunately, the stench of disappointment isn't the only thing in the air. The ground floor dining room has the faint smell not of basil nor lemongrass but of mothballs... a scent massively amplified if you climb to the upstairs dining room or toilets. There's nothing like having lunch with a faceful of naphthalene fumes, eh?
I've always thought of Le Figaro as a right-wing rag with only a barely-respectable food/entertainment section, so there's no loss of faith there.
But I grow increasingly suspicious of and disillusioned with chef endorsements: Bullshit like not being able to pick out a good €10 lunch really does NOT make me want to spend €380 on a meal at Ducasse's, ya know?
Something makes me think all the praise heaped upon this place actually comes from who has recommended it, not what's actually on the plate.
Failure all around.