A few months ago, I visited a new Vietnamese restaurant and I saw it. The second page on the menu read, "Seven Courses of Beef." I had been asked to order for a large group of hardcore foodies, and it took some effort to order prudently that day. The quality of the pho soup, appetizers and entrees were impressive, but the bovine bacchanal still beckoned, arousing my curiosity.
Henry Nguyen opened Pho An Hoa in Tampa last year (2730 W. Waters Ave., 813-490-9157), but his culinary journey began in 1980, when he fled Vietnam at age 27. After three years as a refugee in the Philippines, Nguyen came to the U.S. for a fresh start. He honed his culinary skills in California, where he learned to prepare "bo 7 mon," an intricate series of beef dishes popularized in Saigon. In 1987, Nguyen opened his first Pho An Hoa in Boston, leaving it to his brother. Later partnerships spawned unaffiliated restaurants of the same name in Charlotte, North Carolina and Oakland, California.
It's our good luck that he's brought Seven Courses of Beef to Tampa. Its appearance on a menu is the sign of an ambitious chef, and my expectations were high. I invited nine other hungry guests to join me for the feast on a recent Sunday afternoon. Serving seven courses to a party of 10 is no easy feat.
While its title may conjure seven seared steaks, the meal is quintessential Vietnamese: vibrant, diverse and pleasantly light. Be prepared to interact with your food, because six of the seven courses are meant to be eaten by hand — probably not an ideal first date due to the potentially messy first two courses and all of the fragrant fish sauce. Nguyen prepares his mam nem fresh, a sweet, pungent, non-homogenized variation of fish sauce with pineapple juice.
The first two courses featured a small sterno cooker and thin slices of beef. In the first course, bo nhung dam, guests cook the beef in broth seasoned with vinegar, then roll it in rice paper with a selection of vegetables, rice noodles and herbs. If you haven't softened rice paper in warm water and made your own fresh rolls before, it can be a little tricky at first, but the flavors are crisp and dynamic. The second course, bon nhung bo, employs the same beef, but this time fried in butter on the tabletop stove, bringing a richer element of browned, fat-laden meat to the rolls.
For the lighter third course, Nguyen serves a Vietnamese carpaccio known as bo tai chanh with lemon, dried shallots and a seasoned fish sauce for dipping. Seven more courses of this simple dish would have suited me just fine. Courses four and five came together on two lovely skewers. In bo lui, thin slices of marinated beef are wrapped around slices of onion and grilled. The grill brings out the sweetness of the onion and the flavors soaked into the meat. For bo nuong la lot, ground beef is marinated lightly in sesame oil, then wrapped and steamed in lolot leaves, which are similar to grape leaves.
The last courses feature more subdued flavors. Nguyen serves cha dum, large steamed meatballs of beef, peanuts, lemongrass and onion served on puffy rice crackers. Finally came the congee, or cha obo, a subtle, slightly sweet porridge of minced beef and rice. This simple peasant dish ties the meal together with a comforting dose of starch.
That afternoon, we enjoyed the meal with hot tea and tropical shakes. While Pho An Hoa does not have a license to sell alcohol, guests can bring their own beer and wine, which would further elevate the proceedings. Pho An Hoa is a contender among Tampa's Vietnamese restaurants, and I have enjoyed many items on the menu, but my carnivorous eye always wanders back to Seven Courses of Beef.
This article appears in Apr 28 – May 4, 2011.
