The Pho Theory
Dear Blog Diary,
For a while now, I have what I call “The Pho Theory.”
For those unfortunate souls who don’t know what pho is, it’s the most traditional dish from Vietnam. Depending on which broth you get (traditionally beef) and what you get in it (dealer’s choice), pho is a soothing soup with rice noodles, onions, and assortment that you choose to add. Bean sprouts, jalapeños, basil, cilantro, lime…I prefer all of the above and just give me all of the basil you’ve got.
Pho, pronounced “f-uh.”
It cures cancer. It alleviates hang overs in seconds. It is, if there ever was evidence, proof that God exists and wants to speak to us via this tiny country in south east Asia.
The thing about pho is that I have never known anyone to dislike it (besides maybe vegetarians). You either love it dearly, like it, or think it’s ok. No one hates it, given my research that I have never fact checked even slightly. But I’m talking no one hates it. I have rich friends, poor friends, white black African you name it. Never a bad review.
Have you ever seen that movie Gran Torino starring the man with no name, Clint Eastwood? It’s the one that holds the record for most asian racial slurs. Great movie though. Quick run down, Clint Eastwood plays an old racist white guy who actually does have principle but is a little behind the times and also a bit sheltered.
As the film progresses, Mr. Fist Full of Dollars helps his asian neighbors with a gang problem, using his shotgun on his front lawn. To show gratitude, the neighbors bring him food. After a while, he eats it. After which we have a light weight telling of Dances With Wolves as you see this white guy embrace and be embraced by this foreign culture next door. My favorite line and the one that is most pertinent to this post “This gook food ain’t half bad.” (My father is Vietnamese, so I can use that word freely even though no one really knows it anymore.)
The Pho Theory is that racism can be cured if we simply expose the most blatant racist to this wonderful dish. Take the head of the KKK and bring him out into the wilderness on a frosty winter night. Have my uncle Dung bring him a hot steaming bowl and let the cloaked racist go to town. Besides the fact that he’s freezing, I’m willing to bet a buffalo nickel that he will love it and just maybe change his opinions on the entire concept of Asians.
Food unites all of us, but pho makes us all human. Think I’ll go have a bowl now actually.
Take the red pill.
Eric