Pho Thanh & Café

Pho Thanh & Café
2108 N. 4th St.
Coeur d’Alene, ID
(208) 665-9903

“Nobody home, ha, ha ha!” These were the words of the host as I entered the front door of Pho Thanh & Café Vietnamese Restaurant on North 4th Street in Coeur d’Alene. “Ah…just kidding” he grinned. A few minutes after I settled in and ordered an older couple walked in. “Nobody home, ha ha ha!” he cackled gleefully. “Ah…just kidding.” Turns out, this was part of his routine and he was laying it on everyone who walked in the door.

Pho Thanh is a family-owned establishment, and I’d like to imagine the host must be the favorite kooky uncle of the bunch. Sau Nguyen and family established their café in 2004 in the former Skippers and GW Hunters building near where I-90 crosses 4th St. The Nguyens, including their 10 children, had previously lived in Spokane, where they ran Pho Tai Café. Perhaps their move eastward was prompted by the fact that there was no competition – Pho Thanh was the first Vietnamese place to establish itself in North Idaho, and the place has been booming ever since.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Vietnamese cuisine, let’s review the basics. The specialty dish is pho (pronounced “fuh”), which is a steamy soup consisting of seasoned beef or chicken broth made from scratch, clear rice noodles, bean sprouts, green onions, white onions, and the main ingredient, which is your choice of round steak, meat ball, soft tendon, or chicken. If you’re feeling a little experimental, you can choose to have your pho with beef tripe or oxtail. Fresh basil, hot peppers and lime wedges are served on the side for seasoning to your own taste. Condiments include hoisin sauce, red hot Sriracha sauce, and even hotter chili oil.

The first time I found myself dining at Pho Thahn was a few years back, shortly after they opened. My roommate and I had nasty colds at the time and decided the hot steaminess sounded good for our aching sinuses. We were seated and we began examining the elaborate little set-up at the end of each table: a basket full of bottled condiments, the little jar of oily chili paste, a bin of plastic chopsticks in paper wrappers, a neat pile of soup spoons. A colorful chain of plastic flowers hung brightly around the room, and big, gaudy art panels were placed randomly around on fresh white walls. The atmosphere was unfussy but appealing, complete with the Nguyens chatting away in their native Vietnamese.

Our pho arrived and I noticed that the beef splayed attractively across the top was rather on the pink side. I soon realized that that was how it was served – the intense heat of the broth continues to cook the rare meat until it’s done, allowing it to retain its natural juiciness. I added a brave dose of chili paste and tasted the pho – woah! The intensity of the seasoned broth and aromatic quality the fresh basil combined with the heat of the chili made for an incredible, sinus clearing experience. Delicious.

“What kind of pepper is this?” I asked my roommate innocently, pointing at the bright orange slice with my chopstick. “Ah well, I like spicy anyway” I thought, and before he could answer, I popped one in my mouth. His eyes widened. “Oh, my god, that’s a habanero, you can’t just eat it like that!” Habanero. Hot. Suddenly my tongue was ablaze, my eyes were bright red and welling with tears, and my pulse was like thunder, throbbing in my ears. I spat the pepper out and my evil roommate laughed as I emptied my water glass, then guzzled his down. The feeling was so intense all I could do was sit there speechless with teardrops pouring down. The place was full of people, and most of them were probably wondering what kind of terrible news I’d just received. I tried to disguise my trauma from the waiter as I asked for a to-go container – there was no way I was finishing my pho if I couldn’t even taste it. I must not have been the only fool to end up in habanero misery – I noticed the little buggers are no longer served with each order.

In addition to 9 varieties of pho, Pho Thanh has some other tasty options to explore on their menu, all within the $7-9 price range. My all-time favorite is the #15, the Com Ga Xao Xa Ot, which translates to Steamed White Rice with Lemon Grass Chili Chicken. Another option is an order of “Bun” which are long vermicelli rice noodles, served with your choice of char broiled pork, beef meatball, shrimp skewer, or lemon grass chicken. Intriguingly, you can order this dish with pieces of crispy deep fried eggroll swimming on top, which is the #22, “Bun Cha Go.” It’s an unusual combination, but it is texturally magnificent and instantly addictive.

One menu item I’ve learned that I can’t live very long without is the fresh spring rolls, served cold, not fried like an egg roll. It’s made with a clear rice wrapper containing a handful of cooked-then-chilled rice noodles, two plump shrimp, a thin slice of pork, and some fresh mint and basil leaves. When dipped in the accompanying sauce, a sweet blend of hoisin and peanut, these little babies are pure heaven. Two orders (four rolls) will set you back a mere $6 and make a wonderful, filling lunch served a la carte.

Like most family-run places, service here is always fast and amazing. I frequently pop in to make take-out orders and even during a rush, I’ve never waited more than a few minutes. Near the door is a table piled high with odd publications such as restaurant equipment and office supply catalogs, presumably for take-out customers to peruse while they wait. Always, just as I get bored enough to actually start paging through the Costco Connection, the smiling host is handing me my order. “Nobody home, ha ha ha!” he laughs as more hungry customers file in for their fix of delicious pho.

What's Cookin' Coeur d'Alene review

Paul Bunyan Famous Hamburgers

Paul Bunyan Famous Hamburgers
602 Northwest Blvd.
Coeur d'Alene
208-664-2725

In local burger folklore, it’s always Hudsons that gets all the glory. Okay sure, the place has been there serving the same product for a hundred years but so what? Want fries? Too bad – try ordering them and they’ll look at you like you just asked for Bald Eagle McNuggets. Take away the “secret recipe” (do I taste horseradish?) hot mustard and ketchup and the burgers become suddenly a little plain. It’s so crowded in that tiny joint you have to sit elbow-to-elbow with some less-than-appetizing stranger nearly as old as the place itself. Not for the claustrophobic.

Paul Bunyan must be the second oldest burger joint in town, having been in the same spot since sometime in the fifties. My mother worked there during its glory years when she was a teenager. For years it was the teenybop hot spot, a place for car cruisers to gather. By the time I was a kid, the place was pretty run down, and they demolished and rebuilt about ten years ago. It seems like the place lost a bit of charm after the rebuild – I can remember sitting outside the place at grungy carved-up picnic tables and having corn dogs and vanilla coke in the shade of some kind of dilapidated multicolored fifties plastic canopy structure that would cast odd pink and orange shadows onto the ground. Now the place is rather plain – grey brick, crisp white interior - exactly like the two newer locations in Post Falls and Hayden. However, the giant original iconic sign of Paul himself still stands out front, winking at passersby.

The menu remains nearly identical to how it was 50 years ago as well. Where else can you get a Blue Ox Burger or a Hammy Whammy (mmmm - layers of thin fried ham and yellow mustard on a double-size roll)? Their food is typically very good – a hometown joint with food made fresh and with a flair for originality you can only find at old small-town joints like this. The onion rings are killer – hand battered and fried to a perfect golden brown until they’re stuck to each other – so good right down to the little crunchy bits left at the bottom of your little red-and-white checkered tray. They will flavor your Coke with vanilla, cherry, chocolate and probably a dozen other flavors. They have fresh Huckleberry shakes for goodness sake, although they will cost you. In fact, I noticed that everything on the menu suffered a dramatic price hike recently, and a meal here can add up quick. The food is normally worth it here, but you could spend the same amount at Applebee's or something and at least feel a little fancy.

Unfortunately, a recent visit to Paul Bunyan was marred by a bad customer service experience. Hungry after work one day last week, I cruised into the drive through and ordered my usual Double Bacon Cheeseburger and small onion rings with fry sauce and a large Cherry Coke. The wait is always long here, but it’s forgivable since everything is made fresh when you order it.

I pulled up and peered into the closed drive-up window as one of the girls yammered away on the phone, talking and laughing, which she continued to do for at least five minutes during which time I could clearly see my finished food sitting there waiting to be bagged and handed out to me. My patience was wearing thin for this girl who seemed gum-smackingly oblivious to my basic need for sustenance. She eventually put down the phone and handed my bag of food out to me and immediately closed the window, and I got halfway home before I realized she had forgotten to hand me my large Cherry Coke. I was mad, but I decided I was too hungry to go back, I’d just take the loss and have water, it’s better for me anyway.

I got home, just starving, sat down and pulled my food out of the bag and realized to my horror that the flaky gal had forgotten my darned fry sauce! That was it, my temper was shot. I could handle the forgetting-the-Coke thing, but there was no way I was eating cold onion rings with no dip! I flew back down there (all four blocks), pulled in and barked into the drive-thru box, telling them how they forgot my stuff and how hungry and upset I was and - I’m not joking here, there was a long pause and the girl comes on: “(Audible sigh) …Well, sir, what do you expect me to do about it.” Naturally a million things flooded my brain, all of which I'm too polite to commit to print. Ultimately, I decided to not risk teen-girl spit appearing in my food and calmly replied, “Well, my dear, you can cook me a fresh order of onion rings since mine are ice-cold by now, along with the drink I paid for and the dip I ordered in the first place, and the sooner the better because I am rabidly hungry and now grouchy as a bear.” (audible sigh…smack of gum) “Well, I guess we can do that.” Damn skippy you can, miss thang!

When I got to the window, all the Paul Bunyan girls lingered in the back like a flock of turkeys, bobbing their necks trying to get a look at the mean grouch. You could feel the tension as top-ponytail girl opened the slider, wide-eyed: "Oh mah gawd ah am sooooo soooorry bout thay-at!" she drawled, dripping with faux sincerity. I grumbled "Whatever...I'm just hungry, I guess..." and grabbed my food and drink, and noticed three cups of dip in my bag. I wouldn’t let one bad experience permanently ruin my relationship with Paul. Anyway, the employee turnover there is so fast, by the time I visit again, there’ll be a whole new set of counter girls for me to razz.

Shore Lounge Karaoke

Shore Lounge Karaoke
Lobby Level
Coeur d’Alene Resort
765-5000

Sunday nights in downtown Coeur d’Alene can be a little eerie. Most of the week, the area is full of nightlife, revelers hopping from bar to bar, live music pouring out onto the streets. However, on Sunday evenings the place turns into a virtual ghost town. Most of the pubs and cocktail lounges are closed, and the ones that do open close their doors early.

Nevertheless, you’re bored and surely you can’t be the only one in town with a wild hair to go have some fun on a sleepy Sunday. Where is everyone at? Well, dear reader, I know the answer. They’re tucked away deep inside the Coeur d’Alene Resort at the Shore Lounge for Karaoke Night. On a typical Sunday after 9 p.m., this dimly-lit, touristy lounge with the vaguely nautical theme transforms into a packed showcase for local singers and non-singers alike. Despite it’s location inside the stuffy confines of the resort, this Karaoke night has been known to get a bit weird and wild.

Your hostess for the evening is the gorgeous and talented Karaoke diva Tequila Leah (pictured above). For the most part, she keeps things rolling along smoothly, always injecting some of her acrid sense of humor into the proceedings and amazing regulars with her edgy fashion sense. She would never come right out and insult a bad singer, but she has a charming trick of getting the message across in a passively aggressive way, without actually hurting any feelings. She always insists that the audience give a big hand to the last singer, no matter how tone-deaf their performance.

Leah’s bubbly personality keeps the atmosphere fun and lighthearted, and even if you screech like a maimed kitty-cat during your performance of “My Heart Will Go On”, she will make a little joke, insist the audience applaud, give you a hug and ask you what song you want to sing next. She makes everyone feel so good about their singing, that it can create an occasional problem - certain not-so-hotso singers have developed a false sense of grandeur about their abilities and insist on terrorizing the crowd at every opportunity. In reality, the vast majority of people that get up to sing actually perform very well. Several of the regular singers could feasibly pull off a career in pop music and even seem to have developed small fan bases here at the lounge.

The stage set up here can be a little bit intimidating. Traditionally, in Japan where Karaoke was invented, people stay put right at their table and the microphone is handed around to the different participants. At the Shore Lounge, singers have to get up on a stage in front of everyone, complete with a spotlight shining directly on your big face. You’re the star, and there’s no escaping it. Most of the regulars here embrace the idea and really ham it up. Some people even dress up for the night – a couple of twenty-something dudes like to show up in ungodly ugly polyester leisure suits from the ‘70’s and sing the hits of Barry Manilow. There’s guaranteed to be a hardcore cowboy or two, dressed in full regalia, and singing some bombastic patriotic country hit. The crowd here is entertainingly diverse – it seems like everyone from the other nightspots end up here on Sundays since their regular haunts are closed.

Sometimes the chaotic nature of the crowd leads to wild excitement. It was here a while back that I witnessed one of the goriest girl fights ever. I had just returned to my table after singing a rousing rendition of Iggy Pop’s “Lust for Life.” Suddenly we heard a girl hiss “You bitch!” She had been completely. drenched when another girl threw a drink at her. In seconds, both girls were on the floor struggling, ripping out huge chunks of each other’s fried hair. The music stopped, the house lights went up and people were piling up, trying to get the girls to break it up.

One of the girls finally got up off the floor and we watched as she spit something out of her mouth, it went flying across the room. She immediately brushed herself off and promptly slipped out the front door before security even had a chance to arrive. Meanwhile, the other girl let out a chilling cry: “My finger! She bit my finger off!” and our jaws dropped as we realized that what the other girl had spit across the room was a fingertip. Gross! The excitement died down and Tequila Leah fired things back up as medics hauled to poor girl away.

Being that this is the Coeur d’Alene resort, the drinks here are certainly not cheap, so bring some extra cash if you need some liquid encouragement before tackling your Karaoke tune. If you’re on a budget, go with the beer special – five dollars for an extra tall mug (about 3 pints worth) of draught beer, your choice. Sit down and grab a song book. Leah has an awesome selection of over 15,000 songs and she gets updates all the time, so whether you’re dying to re-interpret Patsy Cline, Metallica, or Fergie’s “Fergalicious”, she’s got you covered.

I’m a firm believer that everyone has the ability to get into Karaoke – it doesn’t matter if you can sing or not if you’ve got some schtick. Be creative. Some people need to delve into choreography or props to distract from their lack of vocal talent, but who cares as long as you’re entertaining. Get into the spirit, conquer your stage fright and just get up there and do it. I swear, all it takes is once to wipe away all your fears, and suddenly you’re a Karaoke addict. You’ll be braving the fabulous chaos of the Shore Lounge every Sunday night.

Café Carambola

Café Carambola
610 W. Hubbard #110
Coeur d'Alene
208-676-8764

The night of Cinco de Mayo is traditionally when we enjoy a lot of Corona and Jose Cuervo and perhaps get a little loco. So, of course you will want to spend the day grazing on goodies from south of the border to get your tummy prepared for the party. You can’t settle for plain old Taco Bell on such an important day, you’ll want to go for something different, something on the more authenitic side. I’d approvingly suggest that a visit to Café Carambola for lunch is a great way to get the fiesta started.

I have a friend who cracked me up one time when we went to lunch at another “fresh-mex” restaurant a while back in Coeur d’Alene and after we got our food he sat down said, with all seriousness: “This isn’t a real Mexican place – there aren’t any tater tots on the menu!” Poor kid needs to get out more often, I think.

With that in mind, I wouldn’t suggest that he should bother with Café Carambola either, where nothing is murdered in hot oil, and everything is served fresh, fresh, fresh in an intriguing variety of Latin dishes. In fact, they claim that many of the veggies are plucked daily from the owner’s home garden, at least in the warmer months. The location is a bit off the beaten track, tucked away there in Harbor Center next to the Lewis-Clark State Student Lounge (they offer a discount to LCSC students, by the way.) I’ve driven by the place a zillion times, but it never really registered to actually dine there until a few days ago. A friend and I were hungry but couldn’t decide where to eat - we were sick of all the usual spots and were craving something new. Bing! I remembered Café Carambola and we headed out the door.

The cafe is teeny-tiny but the addition of several al fresco tables on the front sidewalk made for a bit more space. There was only one table left when we arrived during the busy lunch rush. While its strip-mall location renders it rather nondescript from the outside, the place is bright, clean and welcoming inside. A few minimal bits of South American décor add some color and charm. A friendly gentleman with a wild floral shirt and a thick Latin accent waited patiently as we scanned the menu.

Although the owners have lived in Mexico, this is not your standard Mexican fare at all. Menu items also derive from exotic places like Peru, Argentina, and Cuba. For lunch, they offer a variety of tortas (which is Spanish for “sandwiches on a firm and crusty grilled bread roll”), homemade soups and salads, and the special of the day, which this day was their legendary tamales. I spied the variety of colorful salads in the display case and our host named them off to me, each utterly unpronounceable to these non-Spanish speaking ears. Prices here are a little on the upper ridge of my normal lunch budget, ranging from $8-12 per person.

I decided to go for half a Torta Mexicana (slow roasted pulled-pork, goat cheese, tomato salsa) and a small order of the unpronounceable salad with fresh tomatoes and avocados frolicking lightly in herbs and olive oil. My dining partner immediately sprang for the tamales, his favorite, along with the soup of the day, which was a mean bean concoction of some type. Our food arrived expeditiously and my partner looked at his plate and at me and back at it and at me and we both started laughing. He has a quite a notoriously voracious appetite and could have quite easily eaten about four times the amount of food presented. Two wee tamales (two bites each) and a half-dab of soup was it. I told him to get over it, that it was “gourmet.” In all honesty, I suppose that for $8.95 they could have at least tried to feed the poor starving boy instead of just teasing him. The food was absolutely delish, he said, but as soon as he was done he was ready to go to Zips for round two.

My torta and salad portion weren’t exactly mammoth either, but I was just hungry enough that it seemed like the right amount. The slow-roasted pork was melt-in-your-mouth good, the cheese was perfectly creamy and made a nice accompaniment to the tangy fresh tomato salsa. The avocado-tomato salad was vibrant, coated in a variety of herbs and olive oil and practically sparkled on my tastebuds. Yum-ola! A good old fashioned Pepsi was the perfect thing to wash down this singularly enjoyable meal.

Despite the lunch rush, our waiter was kind and attentive, returning frequently to check on us and fill our beverages. Again, our only complaint was that the small-ish portion size didn’t seem to line up with the large-ish prices. A suggestion: sit people with a bottomless basket of homemade chips and fresh salsa and allow those with larger appetites to fill their tummies that way. Overall, Café Carambola does a fantastic job of providing an uncommon alternative to traditional Mexican lunches, and being that the place is always hopping when I cruise by, I’m not the only one who thinks so.