A Land Far, Far Away…

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…” Or should I say… Pho Hue? Sorry. I promise that’s the only time I’ll make that joke. Well… probably.

If you’ve ever lived in Hout Bay like I did, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. Every time I’d invite someone over, I’d get exactly the same response. “Paige, Hout Bay is just so far.” Honestly, people spoke about it as if I lived somewhere between Cape Town and Antarctica. 

Having since moved away, I can safely report that Hout Bay isn’t actually in another country. In fact, it’s really not that far at all. And after this visit, I’d happily make the drive all over again. Because in the heart of Hout Bay is Pho Hue, a tiny Vietnamese restaurant that completely stole my heart. Not because it’s flashy. Not because it’s trendy. And definitely not because an influencer or rather, influenza  told me to go there. It simply does what so many restaurants forget to do these days. It serves genuinely authentic food, welcomes you like family and quietly gets on with being really, really good at what it does.

Water Is Temporary. Pho Is Forever.

The Cuisine That Keeps Calling Me Back

People often ask me all the time what my favourite cuisine is. Truthfully? I don’t think I have one. It’s a bit like asking me what my favourite song is. Ask me today and you’ll get one answer. Ask me tomorrow and it’ll probably change. I generally decide based on what I’m craving. Italian has its moments. Japanese always has a place. Mexican? Never a bad idea. 

But Vietnamese… Somehow Vietnamese always sneaks its way back into the conversation. Which is funny, because I only tried it for the very first time about a year ago. Since then, it’s become one of those cuisines that I almost crave emotionally. If I’ve had a long week…Vietnamese. If I’m feeling under the weather… Vietnamese. If I want something that feels healthy without tasting like it was designed to punish me… Vietnamese.

There’s something about a bowl of pho that feels less like dinner and more like therapy. The fresh herbs, the fragrant broth, the squeeze of lime, the little hit of chilli… Everything somehow feels light,   nourishing and ridiculously satisfying all at once. It’s comfort food that doesn’t leave you feeling uncomfortable afterwards. And honestly… what’s not to love about that?

Home Before the First Bite

So yes, I arrived at Pho Hue with expectations that were probably a little unfair. Thankfully, they were met before I’d even opened the menu. Walking in reminded me of something I haven’t felt in quite a while. Home. Which is a strange thing to say considering I’d never actually been there before. Maybe it was because I was back in Hout Bay or maybe it was because the restaurant doesn’t pretend to be anything it isn’t, or maybe, just maybe, it was Vu.

Before we’d even sat down properly, we were greeted with one of those smiles that instantly relaxes you. You know the kind. The ones that don’t feel like customer service, they feel genuine. Within about thirty seconds I’d gone from feeling like I was visiting a restaurant to feeling like I’d been invited over for lunch. The restaurant itself follows the same philosophy. Simple wooden tables, traditional Vietnamese hats and photographs decorating the walls. Nothing over-styled or trying too hard. Just enough personality to remind you where you are, while letting the food remain the main character.

The Best Recommendation You Can Get

Then something happened that made me even more excited. While we were settling in, I noticed a few chefs from one of Cape Town’s well-known restaurants finishing up their lunch. Now, if you’re a food person, you’ll understand what happened next. I became nosy. I wandered over and asked the only question that mattered. “So… is it good?” One of them smiled. “It’s one of our go-to lunch spots.” That was it. Conversation over. Because if chefs choose to spend their own lunch break eating somewhere, that’s about as good an endorsement as you’re ever going to get.



At that point, I didn’t even need convincing anymore. I just needed the menu. Although, Vu had other ideas. Before I’d managed to properly read through it, he smiled and said, “We start with Vietnamese coffee.” Well, who was I to argue?

A Paige-Turner Through the Menu

While we waited for our coffees, I did what I always do. I had a little Paige-turner through the menu. (I’ll give you a second for that one.) One thing I immediately loved was that it didn’t feel like one of those over-designed menus that’s trying to convince you it’s cool before you’ve even ordered. Every page had a photo of the dish, bold names, bright colours and absolutely no pretending to be something it wasn’t. It actually reminded me of the menus you stumble across when you’re travelling through Asia. They’re practical, slightly chaotic, full of photos, and somehow that’s exactly the charm. It felt authentic because it wasn’t trying to be trendy.

Actually… for a second it didn’t even feel like Cape Town. Although, to be fair, we were technically already in the Republic of Hout Bay. If you’ve spent any time around Cape Town you’ll know exactly what I mean. Hout Bay has always had its own little identity, complete with its “passport” and unofficial republic status. So perhaps I’d already crossed one border before accidentally crossing another, because stepping into Pho Hue genuinely transported me somewhere else.

Dessert Before Lunch?

And just as I was busy deciding what on earth I was going to order, our coffees arrived. Well… part coffee, part science experiment, part dessert. I’m still not entirely sure. The Vietnamese coffee arrives with this little metal filter slowly dripping into your glass while it sits in a warm water bath. There’s no rushing it. You just sit there watching every last drop work its way through before lifting the filter off, grabbing your spoon and stirring in what can only be described as an entirely irresponsible amount of condensed milk. Now here’s the thing. I will never put sugar in my coffee. Ever. Offer me a teaspoon of sugar and I’ll politely decline. Offer me condensed milk? Suddenly all my principles disappear.

The strong, almost chocolatey coffee melts into this rich, silky sweetness that somehow tastes indulgent without losing that proper coffee kick. It was creamy, comforting and ridiculously moreish. Honestly, it could have passed as dessert. But I’m an adult. If I want dessert before lunch, who’s going to stop me? Needless to say, neither coffee lasted very long.

Let the Feast Begin

By this point we’d fully settled in, we’d officially been caffeinated, and it was time for the fun part. Ordering. Because if you’re going to visit a Vietnamese restaurant, there is absolutely no chance you’re only ordering one thing. We decided to do exactly what I love most, pick a variety of smaller dishes, mix in a few larger plates and, naturally, order a bowl of pho. Because going to Pho Hue without ordering pho feels a little bit like going to Italy and skipping the pasta. It simply wasn’t happening.

After a very serious strategic discussion (you know… the important life decisions), we came up with a plan. The lighter dishes would be our “starters”, the heartier dishes would become our “mains”, and we’d simply eat our way through the menu. Scientific? Not really. Effective? Absolutely.

The Crunch That Started It All

So naturally, I reached for the chicken potstickers first. The moment my chopsticks picked one up I could already hear that beautiful crispness from the pan-fried wrapper. Honestly, that’s half the joy. That little crunch before you even take a bite tells you everything you need to know. A quick dunk into the soy sauce and I was sold.

The wrapper was beautifully crisp on the outside but still soft enough to hug the filling, which was juicy, fragrant and packed with flavour. Everything inside tasted fresh, well seasoned and incredibly comforting without feeling heavy. I was fully in my happy place. Then, just as I was congratulating myself on making an excellent life choice… Vu appeared beside us carrying what can only be described as the soundtrack to every hungry person’s dreams.

Sizzle. Sizzle. Sizzle. I got so excited that I accidentally dropped the rest of my dumpling straight into the soy sauce. Kobe! Perfect shot. Thankfully the sizzling stir-fry wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, so after rescuing what was left of my poor dumpling and pretending that absolutely never happened, I moved onto the fresh spring rolls.

Fresh, Light & Completely Necessary

I don’t know what it is about Vietnamese fresh spring rolls, but I order them almost every single time. They just make me feel like I’m balancing out all my questionable life decisions. Fresh herbs, crisp vegetables, silky rice paper… Everything tastes clean, light and vibrant.

And that dipping sauce. I’m not saying I’d drink it. I’m just saying if someone accidentally poured it into a mug, I’d probably ask fewer questions than I should. It has that perfect sweet, tangy, savoury balance that somehow makes every bite even better. It was the ideal contrast after the warm dumplings, almost resetting my palate before diving into the next dish.

Sticky Fingers, Zero Regrets

Which was the Korean fried chicken wings. Now these deserve a moment. First of all, thank you for giving me both drums and flats. Inclusivity matters. I immediately claimed the drumsticks because they’re simply superior and I refuse to be convinced otherwise. One bite in and there was absolutely no pretending to be polite anymore. Sleeves rolled up. Napkin abandoned. Dignity… somewhere on the floor.

These wings were gloriously sticky, smoky, sweet, savoury, slightly spicy and unapologetically messy in the very best way. The glaze clung to every bite, leaving my fingers bright red and absolutely covered in sauce. Worth it? Every. Single. Finger.

Comfort Food, Rewritten

By this point my hands were sticky, my fingers were bright red, my face probably had sauce on it somewhere and my mouth had just survived a very happy encounter with Korean fried chicken. In other words, it was time for pho. Now here’s a little life hack from me. Hydration doesn’t always have to come in a glass. Sometimes, it comes in a bowl. Honestly, if you’re sitting there deciding between ordering another drink or another bowl of pho, I’m probably going to tell you to order the pho. Water is temporary. Pho is forever. Okay… maybe don’t quote me on that.

Build Your Own Bowl

One thing I love about Vietnamese food is how interactive it is. First I was playing scientist with my coffee, now I was customising my bowl exactly how I wanted it. In went the bean sprouts, a generous squeeze of lime, enough sriracha to make some people nervous and, naturally, a healthy squeeze of hoisin because apparently moderation wasn’t on the menu that day. A quick mix, a deep breath, and then the first spoonful.

Every single time I eat pho I’m reminded how wrong first impressions can be. People see this beautifully clear broth and immediately assume it’ll be bland. It never is. I genuinely don’t know how they manage to pack so much flavour into something that still feels so light. It’s fragrant, silky and somehow tastes like it’s been simmering away for days. The kind of broth that warms you from the inside out without leaving you needing an afternoon nap afterwards.

And that’s exactly why I love Vietnamese food. Comfort food doesn’t have to leave you feeling uncomfortable. It can nourish you, fill you up and still make you feel good afterwards. Anyway, enough of my TED Talk. Back to the noodles.

The slippery rice noodles were made for slurping, the beef was beautifully tender, the little beef meatballs were juicy little flavour bombs, and before I knew it I was already planning my next spoonful before I’d finished the first. Medicine? Maybe. Lunch? Definitely.

The Soundtrack to Lunch

By now my sizzling beef had finally stopped announcing itself, which felt like my cue to dive in. What I loved most about this dish was how simple it was. No unnecessary extras. Just tender slices of beef, colourful vegetables that still had plenty of bite and a glossy umami-rich sauce that coated everything without drowning it. I found myself eating vegetables I couldn’t even confidently identify which is always a good sign.

Normally if I’m voluntarily eating mystery vegetables, someone has done something very right. The beef was beautifully cooked, there was plenty of it and somehow every bite still felt fresh rather than heavy. It didn’t even need rice. Considering everything else covering our table, I genuinely didn’t miss it for a second.

Before You Come for Me…

Now, before somebody runs to the comments. Let’s address the sushi. Every time I write about a Vietnamese restaurant that serves sushi, somebody inevitably appears to tell me it isn’t authentic. Respectfully… I think you’re directing that argument at the wrong person. Because every Vietnamese restaurant I’ve visited that’s served sushi has been owned and run by Vietnamese families. So if you’d like to file a complaint, I suggest taking it up with them rather than me. Thank you for coming to my second TED Talk.



In fact, I’ve actually had some of my favourite sushi at Vietnamese restaurants. It’s simple, fresh and balanced. Nothing is drowning under litres of mayonnaise or sticky sauces trying to hide mediocre fish. Just good-quality fish, perfectly seasoned rice, creamy avocado and enough toppings to complement everything rather than compete with it. Our salmon rainbow rolls were exactly that. Fresh, clean, beautifully balanced and the perfect way to finish what had already become one of my favourite lunches in quite some time.

So… Is It Worth the Drive?

Overall, Pho Hue reminded me why I fell in love with Vietnamese food in the first place. It’s honest, comforting, fresh, nourishing and somehow it always feels like someone has cooked it with a little bit of extra care.



Hidden away in Hout Bay, Pho Hue may not actually be in a land far, far away, but it certainly makes you feel like you’ve travelled somewhere special. So whether you’re craving a bowl of pho, a Vietnamese coffee, or simply a meal that’ll leave you feeling looked after rather than weighed down, I know exactly where I’d be heading. And this time… the drive to Hout Bay won’t feel far at all.

Until next time!