Adventure Tuesdays: 24 Hour Pho on the Westside!

We realize it’s Wednesday, but Adventure Tuesday typically ends on Wednesday morning. Sometimes spontaneous and random things happen on Tuesday night. There’s also a good chance that nothing happens. So last night?

My roommate has put together the mother of all entertainment systems. The newest addition to the system being a PC outfitted with Windows 7 Media Center. I was streaming songs off my laptop into the Windows 7 PC which is connected to the main entertainment system of power, when my other roommate was wandering around the house in a hungry stupor. She wanted to eat but wasn’t sure if she wanted to eat given that I call her fat all the time and thus have created a complex, just kidding, truth is I was hungry too. So she brought up Pho but our usual joint was closed when she mentioned the magic words, 24 hour pho. I then remembered my other friend telling me about such a mythical place on the Westside that was 24 hours.

Turns out it’s Pho Citi, the same 24 hour joint that’s in Burbank too, so it was familiar. It’s not the best Pho, but it’s not the worst either. My roommate thought she could be cool and order our usual by using its name, but when the person on the phone returned question marks I said to her, number 19, arbitrarily picking a random number which turned out to be the correct combo number. Maybe it wasn’t arbitrary. Maybe it was the unified system of pho combo numbering, or maybe I remembered Saturday night’s dinner. Either way, at the time it was hilarious that Pho with brisket was #19. On a side note, my roommate says brisket like it’s a British word. Brisk-ette’. There seems to be an odd trend with Asian girls developing wonky anglo-saxon accents.

The price was decent. Considering that it’s 24 hours, the extra buck you pay – you can get the same deal, that tastes better at Pho Show for a dollar less – is worth the convenience of being able to have Pho, whenever.

They did skimp on the fixings and trimmings and didn’t pack hoisin sauce, chili sauce or the standard Sriracha. Luckily, my fridge is stocked with spices so I wasn’t too bummed. But the lack of shrubbery did leave my bowl of finesse much ado about nothing.

However, it being close to midnight, having hot pho on a cold and windy evening, backed with sake and pirated movies, wasn’t bad at all. Besides I got to flex my art muscles and get s’more confidence in my penciling. Zomg, not a euphemism.