I once tried to sit down at a sidewalk restaurant in Hanoi that specialized in dog meat. As I haltingly asked for a seat in my horrible mockery of the Vietnamese language, the young woman in charge of the spot stared right through me, probably more than familiar with clumsy, thrill-seeking adventurers—or worse, foreigners eager to pass judgment on something alien to their experience. Whatever she thought I was after, she wanted no part in it.
Imagine a black cod fillet, jacketed in light, crispy panko bread crumbs, lovingly and delicately fried until crispy, and light as a feather. Now imagine miring it in a glutinous chocolate-based sauce and weighting it with slices of unseasonal strawberry that have all the flavor of cold, wet tofu. When I ate this dish years ago at Macku I called it a “fish sundae,” an unholy union of incompatible ingredients that seems so audacious on paper you have to order it—just to find out if it’s loading anything more than two barrels of shock value.
Not surprisingly, the best things on this menu are the most straightforward and traditional. There’s a simple bowl of pho for two, with thin slices of beef and a clean, fragrant broth that could stand up to any on Argyle Street. A small, thin, and crispy bean sprout and seafood omelet—a classic Vietnamese banh xeo—is simply seasoned with fish sauce. And a homey bowl of miso-based seafood soup is packed with plump, bouncy mushrooms, shrimp, cabbage, and springy fish cakes. But even with this soup, the kitchen can’t resist a pointless flourish—the addition of single quail egg, dramatically plopped tableside into the simmering broth. You’re meant to let it cook for a few minutes, which will give you and your tablemate just enough time to arm wrestle for it.
2925 N Halsted 773-360-8816vusuarestaurant.com
