Let it be known, I don’t like soup. Why? I don’t know. I think it comes from when I was a kid and being forced fed soup… murky herbal and medicinal soups that smelled like a mix of the inside of a cedar chest and a damp math textbook. The concept of soup never made sense to me; why fill up on liquids when that’s just going to take up space and restrict the intake of actual food and deliciousness? As I grew up I reconciled with soup and have slowly let it back into my life in the forms of noodle soups and salsa. Letting the weather stipulate what I ultimately end up eating, I think it’s safe to say that Pho, is a winter-time meal – don’t get me wrong, by all means, eat it in the summer, because what you really want in 40 degrees with humidity is a bowl a steamy hot soup. A friend and I hit up this spot we both like to go to when cold is in the air and boots on our feet: Pho Tay Ho.