The reputation of the fried squab at Viet Quan Vietnamese Noodle House preceded itself.
Before I made it to the unassuming, 3-year-old restaurant in Parkside, I had heard from some in-the-know food friends that its version is the city’s best. And even (gasp!) that it might rival the famous fried squab at Four Kings, indisputably San Francisco’s hottest restaurant.
There is a slight difference between these two birds, however. The cost of the squab at Viet Quan is $27, versus Four King’s $45 — and there’s no need to sell your firstborn for a reservation. In fact, Viet Quan doesn’t even take them (reservations, not firstborns).
The casual noodle house across from the L Taraval stop (which, thankfully, resumed service at the end of last year) looks like your average pho joint. But owner Sara Le is not your average pho chef. Born in Hanoi and raised in Canton, China, Le is a serial restaurant-opening dynamo; this is something like her 10th San Francisco establishment. (Asked for an exact count, she says she’s lost track.) Among them were The Window, which was on Valencia Street, and Bun Bo Hue Quan Ngon, on Noriega. Viet Quan is co-owned by front-of-the-house man Benton Tang.
Unlike most chefs, Le is not a recipe gatekeeper. She reveals that the squab — a signature dish at all her restaurants — is made by marinating the bird in a mixture of soy sauce, salt, sugar, black cardamom, ginger, star anise, and Chinese licorice. After four hours, it’s removed and dried overnight. Finally, it is fried. The result is a delicately crisp, perfectly burnished skin — a perfectly unctuous little pigeon you just want to gnaw on — served with golden raisins and onions sauteed in butter for a little French influence.
Lest you think this is the only highlight of Le’s menu, there’s “French-style” black pepper beef ($20) with tender cubes of wok-seared steak served with a dome of delicate, tomato-infused rice. There are also plenty of the dishes you’d expect to find on a 123-item Vietnamese menu — rice vermicelli (bun) bowls, endless variations on pho, rice plates — all done really nicely. The green papaya salad with shrimp ($17) is a delicate heap of the crunchy unripe fruit. The imperial rolls in rice paper ($10) are fried until almost lacy; once wrapped in lettuce with herbs and noodles, they make for the quintessential hot and cold, crispy-crunchy, fresh and herby Vietnamese bite.
And then there’s the pho. Though the chicken version ($16) is popular for good reason, the showstopper is the pho with an entire beef rib ($19), which is ready to devour however you see fit, though there is no delicate way possible. But it’s the broth that tells the tale: It’s clean and beefy, without any cloying flavors, and making it requires a ton of bones, all of which end up in the compost bin. “The trash collectors complain that it’s too heavy,” Le laughs. (Should you think, in the face of the rather aggressive beef-rib pho, that Le is for carnivores only, note that the menu proudly features almost 20 vegan items.)
You get the sense that Le is rarely idle. When she’s not at the restaurant, she caters. Because she worked for the Vietnamese Consulate for 20 years, she was recently asked to serve dinner for 300 officials in celebration of Lunar New Year. When those officials are in town, they stop by her restaurant for off-menu comforts, such as hot-and-sour clam soup and pork-belly clay pot.
Despite her relentless schedule — and years of restauranting — Le seems nowhere near burning out. As a chef in a notoriously challenging town, she is almost suspiciously happy. “I guess I just love my job,” she shrugs with a smile.
The Standard recommends:
The best way to eat at Viet Quan is to bring a friend. We recommend sharing.
Imperial rolls: $10
Papaya salad with shrimp: $17
Fried squab with raisins and onions: $27
Total: $54 for two. (OK, we went over budget by $2 per person, but it’s worth it.)