Madame Pho

What should we know about Madame Pho?

Established in Belfast in 2020 by a second-generation restaurateur, Vietnamese street food chain Madame Pho has seen explosive growth since its sale to new management last year, with four new openings in the North of Ireland in the space of just six weeks – a manic pace by any standard.

Not content with keeping that many plates spinning, they’ve now begun an incursion south of the border, slipping into the Exchequer Street spot vacated by Ukiyo’s recent shock closure. Their livery can also be seen on the Thomas Street Boojum that’s lain idle since lockdown, due to open before the end of the year, with the sheer speed of scooping up long-term dormancies and high-profile casualties showing the surplus of ambition here.

Where should we sit?

The layout isn’t wildly different to what was there in Ukiyo, with the ground floor bar scaled-back to make room for a few additional two-tops on the floor. A fresh lick of paint, wood wall panelling, and Vietnamese light fixtures and décor join colourful new chairs and banquettes for a casual reinvention of the space that’s fresh but familiar.

The basement level is a bit more lavishly appointed, with a less crowded layout and more upmarket banquettes retained from the previous tenant – we’d bet on this space getting a lot more use in the evenings. The wraparound booth tucked in the corner has to be our top pick if you’re in with a crowd.

What’s on the menu?

We got stuck straight in with the Vietnamese mainstay gỏi cuốn (summer rolls), plump parcels of rice paper-wrapped prawns, vermicelli and shredded veg. With a fair serving of fat prawns and a pleasant tang of pickled daikon, these are a strong start and a solid option for a quick snack on the go. Peanut sauce on the side isn’t our top pick for pairing at the best of times, but all the less with the one-note flavours of this version.

It makes more sense, if equally little impact, with their chicken skewers. The menu lists these chargrilled chunks as satay-marinated but until we dipped in the sauce there wasn’t the slightest taste of peanut. Or, on that note, much to taste at all – under-seasoned and over-cooked, they were a bland block of middling meat with neither the fatty flavour nor crisp coating we’d expect.

Wings were a massive improvement - tender, juicy meat basking in a sticky-sweet caramelised glaze for a showcase of all the skewers are not. The umami-rich tang of fish sauce is balanced with sugar and soy, with garlic and chilli bringing more assertive flavour. The little side serving of sriracha mayo will satisfy those seeking a more prominent kick, but it's a glaze that needs no adding to as far as we and our licked-clean fingers are concerned.

The bánh mì marks a major bump in the road, with Madame Pho’s take on maybe Vietnam’s most famous street food staple not likely to have anyone booking a flight. The new owners have said they’ll be shipping their baguettes from Belfast until they find a suitable substitute down south, but short of cheaper prices up north we couldn’t detect anything in this basic bread worth importing – Dunnes across the road does them just as well.

We’d believe you if you told us the “Vietnamese ham” came from there too, with little to note in the paltry pink slices. BBQ crispy pork neck has been pummelled to a thin, tough texture, with the coating joining the chicken skewers in the gravely under-seasoned stakes. We’d forgive some of this in a cheap and cheerful lunch joint; at €14 it’s a big misfire.

The curry makes for a modest return to form, a substantial serving that’s creamy and rich with coconut milk and mild spice, studded with your choice of meat or veg. We went with roast duck and found more favour in the thin, tasty breast slices than the chunkier cuts, more flavour needing to be rendered from the fat. Still, the sum total worked well, with coriander and lemongrass lending a freshness and balance to the bowl. You could do a lot worse.

Just how much worse we soon sampled, as we slurped up the broth from the Pho King and almost let it spill right back into the bowl. The menu talks a great game of deep sweetness and fragrant flavour derived from an eight-hour simmer, but perhaps they forgot to flick on the heat – this was as bland as it gets, less bone and marrow than… water and water.

Short of the rich depth of a proper broth, the four kinds of meat are left to carry the can and they are, putting it mildly, not up to the task. With no hint of suppliers or provenance across their menus or sites, it's safe to assume Madame Pho isn't working with Ireland's best produce. Sliced beef hasn’t a trace of the medium rarity claimed, from-frozen meatballs have a denseness that’s deeply off-putting, chicken chunks are of a chewiness we’d sooner starve than relive, while more of those fat, farmed prawns practically come off as gourmet by contrast. We started to eat the side of sliced chilli by itself just to feel something, and left the bowl behind. Pho, the menu explains for those not in the know, is pronounced in Vietnam as “fuh” – we think this dish needs a Pho-King rethink.

What are the drinks like?

Vietnamese-style coffee is a big part of the pitch and happily more successful than some of the efforts elsewhere. Our iced black offering, drip filtered over a thick layer of condensed milk, was deeply tasty, and these are likely to sell well.

Cocktails are an effort to parlay fast food vibes to a slower, more spenny atmosphere come evening – the relatively keen pricing at just under a tenner a pop should do a solid job. The Pho Signature we sampled was decidedly fruit-forward, with apple and passionfruit bringing a leading sweetness to hide any real trace of vodka or lime. Four Asian beer options and a short but sweetly-priced wine bottle list won’t rock the boat for anyone.

How was the service?

Like lightning – we were seated and served so quick we’d barely got our coats off by the time the food arrived. This is a machine well-oiled and well-intent on turning tables over as quick as it can. That’s not to say there’s any sense of being rushed, though the onslaught of food could leave you scoffing your starters for fear the curry will go cold.

Textbook brand expansion is on full display, with a few Northern accents on the floor a sure sign that experienced staff from across the business have been parachuted in to see the new opening over the line. It’s all very slick, smooth and served with a smile.

And the damage?

Madame Pho’s owners have noted the far higher cost of doing business down south, with overheads running anything from 20 to 50% above what they’re dealing with in Belfast. It was a pleasant surprise then to see coffees and starters running in and around the same price both sides of the border. It’s a pretty good deal.

That’s not a theme that holds up across the mains, alas, with the banh mis, phos and curries clearly making up the margins. Substantial mains will see you starting off at €18, while the cheapest banh mi comes in at €11. That makes for street food speed at sit-down spend, with the wildly varying quality making for occasionally very bad value.

What’s the verdict on Madame Pho?

Badly dropping the ball on your namesake dish is a very big stumble to recover from, and the Dublin debut of Madame Pho is already clocking up the sceptical user reviews to show it. There’s a lot of good will going for the OG Belfast branches, but everywhere we looked here we saw creaking signs of an overly cynical effort to cash in on a big brand name acquisition under this new management.

Part of the case they’ve set out for expansion to these parts is a relative lack of competition in the Vietnamese food space, but what’s true in quantity isn’t at all in quality.  At a ten minute stroll across the Liffey, Capel Street’s Aobaba is the one to beat at a far lower price point, with honourable mentions for Pho Kim and Pho Ta – Madame Pho isn’t just not in the same league, it’s not even playing the same sport. Even up against less established players in the market it falters, with Little Geno’s bánh mì head and shoulders above for a full three euro less.

The real USP Madame Pho offers is quick and cheerful service with enough space that you’re near-guaranteed a walk-in seat. In a city with restaurants that are often heaving and booked out weeks in advance, that might be enough to keep a hold of this corner for now, but it’s not likely to generate the same affection and repeat custom. There is much more of the business of food here than the pleasure, and maybe that's a sad sign of the times.