Phaux

Well of course one could have called it Faux Pho, but really... too easy.

The lifestyle choice that we have made has downsides, of course, not least of which is enduring disapprobation from fleshy flesh eaters. We are forced to defend or explain our eating habits to persons for whom "balanced diet" means a side of coleslaw and who feel compelled (despite having virtually no understanding of the science behind it) to query our daily consumption of protein. We get the gamut from "Oh, my kids won't eat it," (to which I cheerfully suggest, "Well, put your kids up for adoption then! Or have them put to sleep!") to "I'd miss meat too much."

Strangest, perhaps, is when people try to justify to me why they aren't vegan.

"Oh yeah, like, I tried a vegan diet for like... three hours and man! My stomach was killing me, y'know, and so I, like, had to go back to meat, man. It was brutal, y'know? Yeah, I just don't think it's for me."

When all the arguments are said and done, though, there remains a great gulf between those who will and won't go vegan. Even if it was only one day a week, the health and environmental benefits would be astounding, and the scientific evidence of the benefits of a plant-dense diet is overwhelming. It leads me to the conclusion that those who refuse to go at least part-time vegan are socially irresponsible, morally lax and unworthy of voting privileges, health care and access to clean water. At the very least, they should be spit upon at every possible convenience.

That being ranted, though, there are some things that a vegan diet does not provide. Chief amongst these is excellent pho.

I have been a phan of pho forever. What's not to like, really? A huge bowl of rice noodles, bean sprouts, chilies, lime, cilantro, rare beef, beef tripe, beef balls... ooops. Yeah, that's the problem. In my mind, at least, the experience of pho is the experience of beef. The soup itself is always beef broth, anyway, so having it at a restaurant has never been an option.

But on a cold April evening, with the temperature dipping to a chilly 4 degrees (hey! for Kelowna, that's cold. We had to cancel the outdoor yoga), a steaming bowl of pho was calling to us. And so we (finally...) get to:

Vegan Pho Version 1.0

serves between 2 and 6, depending on level of piggishness. We ate it all with a bowl left over for Erika's lunch the next day, but then we eat massive amounts of food. Just sayin'.

For the soup:

• 6 cups lovingly hand made veggie stock*
• 1 yellow onion, peeled and cut into quarters
• 1 cup dried sliced mushrooms you bought during your Chinese phase
• 12 (yes, a full dozen, don't be a wimp) cloves garlic, whole
• 3-5 tbsp soy sauce
• 1 3" piece of ginger, peeled and grated (or ~3 tbsp ground ginger in a jar)
• 1 tbsp sugar
• good sploosh of rice vinegar
• 1 tbsp peppercorns
• 2 cinnamon sticks
• 4 star anise (you have some in the cupboard behind the agar powder)
• a handful or two of cilantro stems

*or, 6c water and stock powder, stock cubes, or packaged stock. Don't suffer for this meal; just use what you have.

For the meal

• diced tofu (extra firm or soft only. You may not use medium tofu for this)*
• bean sprouts, blanched for 10 seconds in boiling water and then shocked
• 1 package 1/4"** rice noodles, soaked in boiling water until soft (about 20 minutes or more; start it when you begin this whole process or your noodles could be crunchy, and it's not like they'll get too mushy)
• diced green onion
• fresh cilantro leaves, shredded
• mini bird's eye chilies, or sambal oelek
• lime wedges (not lime juice from a little plastic bottle)
• fresh basil leaves, if you must

*Yes, you may. I. Don't. Care.
**I initially used the wider 1/2" noodles but really don't like them so I recommend the smaller ones -- about the width of fettuccine. Your call, but don't blame me if you don't follow my directions and thus make an utterly inedible mess of my beautiful recipe.

Method

In Mr. Food Processor, place onions, soy, ginger, sugar, and rice vinegar. Pulse, pulse, pulse. Put into stock pot to which you have, fittingly, added the stock. Add mushrooms, cinnamon sticks, star anise, garlic cloves and cilantro. Using your lovely mortar and pestle, crush the peppercorns into dust and add. You may also use that ridiculously long pepper grinder you received as a wedding gift. I won't tell.

Simmer until nice and, umm, simmered.

Meanwhile, soak rice noodles. Dice tofu, keeping at least some of it out of the clutches of your raw-tofu-mad wife. Prepare everything else in the usual manner by carefully plating it onto your finest Asian supermarket serving ware.

Once your noodles are well soaked and thus limp (ahem), prepare a bowl of pho in this fashion:

• Bring soup to a boil after straining solids.
  
• Boil a kettle of water and cover the drained noodles with it. This will heat up the noodles.
• Place a scoop of beansprouts in the bottom of a nice large bowl, preferably with fish decorated on the side of it
• Cover with a generous scoop of noodles, even if your wife complains that she only wants half that amount. She'll eat it, don't worry.
• Cover with boiling hot stock, just until the noodles are submerged
• Toss a few chilies and cubes of tofu onto the top of the stock
• Sprinkle with green onions, cilantro leaves, optional basil and a lime wedge

Yum.