Bodega Bistro

Any Vietnamese restaurant that doesn’t have bins of green plastic chopsticks and a tin of paper napkins on the table will get a suspicious look from me. Those were staples of all the Vietnamese restaurants I ate at as a kid in LA and those items, to me, signal authenticity. So when Greg and I walked into Bodega Bistro in the Tenderloin and were met by a very welcoming host, plum-colored walls, folded cloth napkins, and a prominently displayed wine selection, not only did doubts automatically start registering in my head but I was just plain confused. What was this place? Were we really in the Tenderloin? I felt like Alice and this was my Wonderland.

We sat down and were handed well-worn menus. Not only did these menus not display color photos and weren’t covered in heavy lamination, but there was French on them--potages, canard, poulet. I sat there studying the menu for ages, drawing memories from three semesters of college-level French and a summer spent in Paris, and tried to match the English with their French counterpart. I was intrigued by almost all of the items and wanted them all. But, in the end, I went with what I knew--the pho with all those beefy configurations in it. Greg ordered the orange duck, one of the many French dishes, and the fried calamari. I assured him that we could share and that I’d eat the squid.

The calamari came out first. It was piled high on a bed of shredded lettuce and came with a sweet and sour sauce (the one that I saw many times over in Thailand). Each piece of calamari was a bit of the squid’s middle--no tentacles in this dish--and was delicately tender. The batter was light and super garlicky.

Our noodles came next. The man who I assumed to be the owner asked us earlier if we’d be sharing and offered to split the noodles into two separate bowls for easier eating. We took him up on it. The noodle soup was delivered in beautiful blue bowls, the most attractive pho presentation I’d seen yet. The soup was well-seasoned without being overwhelming. And there was a hefty--a bit too hefty--proportion of beef to noodles but no tripe. It was a good pho though not one that knocked my socks off (a strange expression, by the way).

The duck was slow to arrive at our table and when we asked about it, the waiter was very apologetic, told us that it was on its way, and assured us that the group of diners next to us, which had a duck dish landing on their table, did not order the same duck as ours. When our duck came, it was attractively presented. The rounds of duck breast were fanned out in a circle resting on a faint orange-hued glaze-like sauce. A plate of fried noodles also came with the duck, a surprise to me since there was no mention of it on the menu. The duck was moist and buttery soft, with a subtle hint of the sweet orange sauce. The noodles tasted of garlic, and the two went surprisingly well together.

When we thought we were done, our waiter placed a crème caramel on our table, compliments of the house, a nice touch and a pleasant surprise.

As we left, I wanted to tell our waiter that I loved him. The service was attentive without being fawning, and the whole atmosphere of the place was relaxed and welcoming. I didn’t tell our waiter that I loved him but maybe the next time I go there I will. Now that I know that I’m not in Wonderland but a Vietnamese restaurant that explicitly recognizes that country’s strong French influence, I’ll be less cautious about what I order.