"My husband will be crazy. I think at some point during my solo for a bowl of comfort food, the Pho I might have exchanged vows of any kind. Gelübde whispered to steam, rose from the endless gorge of the bowl. I have praised, tired and close-broken when I sat at the table after a day, as an old road right outside Saigon. The pho praised, delicious from the first, perfectly fed elevator of the spoon. I have praised to feel renewed, refreshed and nourished. The soup has praised to make me more surprising with every bite, the perfect amount of thin-cut beef between my paprika, perfect lots of noodles. I praised coming back soon, and maybe I'll bring my husband. Or maybe Saigon Dish will remain my beautiful secret, fucked in an otherwise inconspicuous strip-mall, call me in whispers of fragrant steam, please praised, back... And I will. All watchful poetic side, I realized that I didn't even see the menu before I ordered my Pho Tai. I thought if that's a $15-20 bowl of soup, I'm happy to pay it. My bowl of paradise was only $8!!! What?"