You’d think that after my big quest to find Montreal’s best Pho, I’d be sick of noodles by now; no, my insatiable thirst for noodles has no bounds. Like girls have a secret stomach for popcorn, chocolate and gossip, I have a secondary backup stomach for noodles, pizza, sushi and fried stuff with cheese. So on a cold winter night (yes, we’re still in November, but the shit is cold enough at night that I’m calling it winter, deal with it), a bunch of friends and I hit up Nudo noodle house, a spot in Chinatown who’s pulling noodles and slinging grub.
If it tastes good, it's here - Est. 2007