So, Matty Boy, you're stealing ideas from Padre Mickey again. If he jumped off a cliff, would you do that, too?
Well, hypothetical question asker, I hear the derision in your voice, but I have to say, if Padre Mickey did it, I wouldn't rule out the possibility that I might give it a go.
This week over at the Dance Party, the padre treated us all to a lovely picture of a big bowl of ramen. Having moved to Oakland's Chinatown, there are many different kinds of Asian restuarants around, including several pho shops, which is the Vietnamese beef noodle soup. There's the odd accent mark above the o, which kind of looks like two question marks, and I asked my waiter to pronounce the word a few weeks back. It doesn't really rhyme with Yo! It's closer to rhyming with boa.
Here's a big steaming bowlful of pho! Mmmm, it's tasty! You get your choice of what kind of beef you want in it, loin or flank, lean or fatty, all of it thinly sliced, usually round in shape like a large slice of salami. It comes with toppings on the side, slices of lime, onions, sprouts, herbal leaves, etc. There's also bottles of soy and hot sauce at every table. I always put in a little hot sauce and squeeze at least one slice of lime in mine. The noodles are thinner and whiter than the noodles in ramen, and because I am always trying to get just a little more tasty stuff in a spoonful, there's always a little soup dribbling down my chin.
If you are lucky enough to have a pho shop in your neck of the woods, stop on by and give it a shot. Tell 'em Matty Boy sent you! It will mean absolutely nothing to them, and confirm their suspicions that almost all white people are crazy.