Restaurant review: Thinh An Kitchen & Tofu is the real deal

One of the great joys of being a food critic is the weekly merry-go-round of global cuisine that I'm able to share with my tasting posse. I'm lucky to introduce friends to culinary experiences outside their wheelhouse, opening their eyes to the variety of flavors that the world's gastronomy offers. Our options as diners are spectacularly diverse, yet so often we fall back on the same old dishes.

Many rich culinary traditions are Americanized or made into fast food. Chef Boyardee is no more Italian than Chun King is Chinese. And if you're a fan of microwave ramen in a foam cup, just wait till you try the real thing at Ichicoro. Plus, tofu still seems to be a new frontier for many. For those skeptics for whom the idea of protein made from soybeans sends shivers down their spines, a trip to Thinh An Kitchen could prove a revelation.

"What are all those containers on the counter?" asks a friend. "Pudding?"

Such is the culture shock for a transplanted New Yorker whose cuisine du jour (and culinary reference point) is largely Italian-American. The "pudding," as it turns out, explains the "& Tofu" appendage to the restaurant's name. Thinh An is to homemade tofu what Mazzaro's Italian Market is to fresh pasta.

To start this journey into the unknown, I suggest that my table try a smoothie with boba. We settle on jackfruit and avocado — two flavors that are definitely outside the realm of a typical U.S. shake shack. When the drinks arrive with huge red straws (that look like a weapon for a Bond villain to blow darts), I see some perplexed looks. Once I point out that one end is designed to pierce the plastic membrane on the top of the cup, my guests are happily on their way to sucking up the huge tapioca marbles. And while the smoothie flavors are surprising, they prove that a spoonful of sugar helps anything go down.

We then decide to go with more familiar fried shrimp egg rolls (chả giò tôm và thịt) as well as fresh summer rolls, which wrap sprouts, herbs and our chosen grilled ground pork (gỏi cuốn nem nướng) in transparent rice-paper wrappers. The egg rolls are reminiscent enough of Chinese takeout for my culture warriors stepping across the Vietnamese threshold to smile, although they're looking for duck sauce.

I show them that we've got other condiments (hoisin, fish sauce, Sriracha and two kinds of red pepper flake goo in a caddy). They note the room is full of many happy Asian faces spooning the hot stuff all over their dishes. It's always a good sign to see patrons embracing food close to their ethnic heritage; then you know you're probably not getting the watered-down version for American palates.

One of the staples of Vietnamese fare, certainly for Americans, is phở, that wonderful, comforting rice noodle soup. I can't resist the phở đặc biệt Thịnh An, the restaurant’s beef combo with slices of rare steak, well-done flank, tendon, meatballs and tripe. I assure you, it's delicious. My rule is always trust your taste buds; don't let your mind evoke an "ick factor" based on a preconceived idea. Don't foreclose on new ingredients prematurely, either — be a proud omnivore.

The other entrees are not so outside the comfort zone. Beef fried rice (cơm chiên thịt bò) is loaded with carrots, peas, green beans, corn and plenty of eggs and topped with beef squares, which I have to remind my table will always be well-done since they are so thinly sliced.

Finished with spicy chicken squares similar to the beef above, the bowl of chicken vermicelli (bún thịt gà nướng) is full of noodles. Shredded carrots, lettuce and cilantro are also featured, as well as a chopped peanut garnish, with a bowl of sweet, vinegary fish sauce on the side.

Short ribs (cơm tấm sườn bò nướng) are a surprising dish. Banish all your thoughts of a chunk of braised beef. Instead, think of thick-cut bacon. Long cross-cut beef slices with bits of rib bone are presented with a salad of cucumber, tomato and lettuce in a sweet vinaigrette. There's a molded mound of broken rice (that’s less fluffy and easier to eat with chopsticks) and bowls of chicken broth and fish sauce to season the dish to taste.

The rainbow dessert (chè đậu đỏ, đậu trắng, sương sáo, hột lựu, đậu xanh, thốt nốt & bánh lọt) is one of those unexpected creations I first encountered at a Filipino grocery on my maiden voyage with CL. This layered concoction is a tall cup with soft red-and-white beans, pomegranate seeds, jaggery (a dark cane sugar) and green beans, plus gummy red dots and green worms bound together with coconut milk. It’s colorful and odd for my newbies. I guess it's best to go slow when introducing new things. I, however, (having had four years to adjust) manage to almost finish it off, leaving just a few bites of slithering gummy worm behind.

And so my posse departs, bellies happily full with a newfound appreciation of Vietnam's tasty culinary wonders and a clearer understanding of the universe according to tofu.

Jon Palmer Claridge dines anonymously when reviewing. Check out the explanation of his rating system.

This article appears in Jul 28 – Aug 4, 2016.