Off the Eaten Path

Slurping Giant Bowls of Pho at This Catonsville Spot Sparks Immediate Joy

Pho Saigon is a destination for many—not just the nearby UMBC students who often come in groups—to enjoy its hubcap-sized bowls in dozens of variations.

Another strip mall off of Baltimore National Pike, another fantastic under-the-radar restaurant.

Making perhaps the best pho I’ve found so far this side of Virginia, Pho Saigon is an often-packed, cheerful place, with red paper dragons hanging from the ceiling, an ad hoc family altar against one wall, colorful art, and flowers and lanterns adorning every surface. And then there’s the enormous bowls of pho, coming in dozens of variations, arriving at your table with heaping mounds of fresh herbs, chiles, and sprouts to add at will.

Owner Kenny Tran and his family have presided over the place since it opened, but Tran officially took over this location from his brother-in-law in 2013 and now runs it with his wife. The Tran family has a long history as restaurateurs, having owned and operated a series of them in the Baltimore area for thirty years, when they were among the first pho shops to open in Maryland. Tran and his family are originally from Saigon. They moved to Southern California’s San Fernando Valley and then to Maryland—a trajectory that makes sense for a military family.

One of the many things that makes Pho Saigon a destination spot for many—and not just the nearby UMBC students who often come in groups—is the ample vegetarian and vegan menu, as Tran’s wife is vegan. This is exceedingly welcome, and not as frequent as you might think, because although Vietnamese cuisine prioritizes fresh herbs, vegetables, rice noodles, and broth, pho is traditionally made with long-simmered beef broth. Not to mention loaded with variations of cow: raw flank, tendon, tripe, etc. (The name “pho” is likely derived from the French “pot-au-feu,” a classic dish of simmered beef and veg.)

During a recent weekday lunch service, Tran took orders and directed deliveries not only of hubcap-sized bowls of pho, but of still lifes of vegetables, herbs, meats, vermicelli, and sauces arranged on the wicker-basket plates that are in the style of North Vietnam. Tran’s menu, it should be said, is enormous. There are the phos, as well as seafood omelets, wontons, spring rolls, bánh mì, rice dishes, and more regional specialties. And you can wash all this goodness down with one of their delicious Thai tea drinks—with the top sealed like a big cup of boba—of which they make some 500-800 per week.

And then there’s the Pho Challenge, an annual contest that draws between 60 and 80 folks who attempt to consume an utterly massive bowl, containing about two pounds each of noodles and meats. Photos on the wall attest to winners, some of whom have managed to accomplish this in under 15 minutes. Having just failed to consume the contents of a normal bowl, albeit the large one, I just can’t imagine. Though I will happily give it a try—especially as the thought of bingeing a bowl of noodle soup is a lot more appealing than, say, 83 hot dogs (Joey Chestnut’s record).

Did I mention that Pho Saigon makes its own chile sauce? Probably should.