Much to my dismay, chef Marcela Bolãno ran away from home last year, leaving her namesake San Miguel restaurant, lured to a new kitchen in Madrid. When she left, unfortunately, so did my sole source for pho in this town. I was heartbroken.

Pho is almost a staple in my diet. Once a week every week when I’m in Toronto. Once in a while when I’m in San Miguel de Allende. This week, I found pho’s new home in San Miguel. But before I tell you where it is I should perhaps tell you a little about pho.

Though pho ranked as number 28 on the list of the world’s most delicious foods in a survey by CNN, I realize there are still a few who haven’t had the pleasure of this Vietnamese treasure.

First, I should make sure you know how pho sounds (I mispronounced it for years). Despite Vietnam being a former French colony, it would be false to pronounce it like the French word faux. Pho is pronounced fuh, a word that seems to sound extremely weird coming out of everyone’s mouth except the Vietnamese. It is also a word that, when spoken, requires you to screw up your face like a dog sniffing another dog’s…well you know what.

Pho is not one of those ancient Asian dishes handed down from generation to generation through century after century. Pho began in the early 20th Century probably in a province southeast of Hanoi. Soon, however, it became the most popular street food throughout the country and, early in the morning and sometimes early in the evening, vendors would walk through the streets with mobile kitchens hanging at each end of a bamboo pole (there are still a few but that may be mostly for North American tourists).

Pho is, today, almost always a breakfast dish, the bacon and eggs of Vietnam, the national dish of Vietnam, and you’ll find it at thousands of street stalls decorated with stark lighting, plastic stools and fat paper napkin dispensers; you’ll even find pho at  restaurant chains.

Andrea Nguyen, in The Pho Cookbook, says, “Pho is so elemental to Vietnamese culture that people talk about it in terms of romantic relationships. Rice is the dutiful wife you can rely on. Pho is the flirty mistress you slip away to visit.”

The dish may best be described as a pleasure in four acts: The noodles. The broth. The meat. And the toppings. When they all come together, you have one unphogettable dish.

So where am I now eating my pho? It’s at the place where more and more San Miguelenses are eating their Chinese, Japanese, Thai and Vietnamese food, at the relatively new home of Asia Orient Express.

It seems like you can’t mention the name of the restaurant without people immediately mentioning how likeable the chef/owner Franco Davalas is and I agree that, behind that Yul Brynner profile and Clark Gable moustache, exudes an enormous amount of charm.

A couple of weeks ago I asked Franco to tell me what makes his pho so good. We started with what I consider separates the great phos from the also-rans, the richness of the broth.

“It’s all about the broth”, said Franco. “I use beef and chicken bones, putting them in the pot when we open at Noon and simmering them gently right up until closing time.”

“We add aromatics…star anise, black pepper, coriander seeds and bay leaves,” he added.

The second part of a good pho is the beef. You want it sliced very thin and you want lots of it.

“We use what we call the pulpa negra, the thigh of the cow. It takes a little more trimming than most cuts before we hand slice it”, said Franco.

“We use no MSG or salt at all in any of our products. We use filet or ribeye if it’s for a special occasion”, the chef added.

Part three of a good pho is the noodles. Asia Orient Express’s are medium-thickness rice imported from Vietnam. Franco shared his technique that ensures the right amount of firmness in their texture.

“We first put them in hot but not boiling water for 15 minutes, strain and refrigerate them. The last part of the cooking is when they go into the broth just before serving”, Franco explained.

The finale of the creation of a pho is the extra added attractions that come on a side plate that allows you to make the choice of exactly what and how much.

All of the expected ingredients were there along with something one doesn’t normally expect, a jalapeño pepper.

The way I eat my pho is a little different than most. I have a way of making it a three course meal. I drink the first third of the broth with no added sauce so that I can savor the beefiness. 

For the next two thirds I add a healthy helping of hoisin. Franco showed me a container of his “special” hoisin and told me about it.

“There is a hoisin that we use for our everyday cooking. Then there is this more upscale hoisin with less sodium (despite that government required ‘exceso sodium’ on the label) that we serve to add to the pho.”

For the last third of my pho, I like a little color and a little heat and that was accomplished when the server brought me a mini tray of sriracha.

A good pho is good to the last drop and that can only be accomplished by raising the bowl to my lips.

As I cupped my hands under it, I thought of what day in the next couple of weeks would I return to Asia Orient Express to lift the bowl again when a server passed by with a board promoting the restaurant’s ramen. I thought I haven’t even tried Franco’s ramen yet. Pho or ramen? Ramen or pho? Decisions, decisions!

Asia Orient Express is located at the rear of Salida a Celaya #6 in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. The restaurant is open from 1:00 to 8:00 pm on Sundays, Noon to 8:00 pm on Tuesday through Saturday.