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Thai Vietnamese Japanese

A guide to three extraordinary Asian cuisines—and the top restaurants that serve them

By Virginia Myers

It wasn’t long ago that “Asian cuisine” meant white cardboard carryout boxes bulging with chop suey and chow mein—nondescript Americanizations of vaguely Chinese origin, delivered to your door.

In the last 10 years or so, though, there has been an influx of Asian cuisines and Asian restaurants in the Bethesda area. Bethesdans are now fluent in bulgogi, pho, miso soup and seaweed salad. We buy sushi at Whole Foods and pot stickers at Costco, and have expanded our palate to include Thai, Vietnamese and Japanese (and even Burmese, Malaysian, Indonesian and Korean). Today, there are nearly 30 Asian restaurants in Bethesda alone.

But as much as we indulge in Asian food, there’s still much we don’t know about it. What makes each cuisine unique, for instance, and what do they have in common?

Food traditions in these various countries have drifted and shifted for centuries, with Indian curry traveling to Thailand, Chinese dumplings landing in Vietnam and the ubiquitous noodle spreading from China in all directions. Talk about fusion. Some distinctive elements in each region endure, but a common thread runs throughout. Vietnam’s pho is Thailand’s tom yum is Japan’s ramen—all different versions of soup. Similarly, you’ll find papaya salad at both Vietnamese and Thai restaurants; sticky rice is part of both cuisines, and in Japan it becomes rice balls. 

Here’s the low down (not the lo mein) on the three Asian cuisines that now challenge Chinese for popularity—Thai, Vietnamese and Japanese.


THAI


Thai food is all about combining five flavor sensations: sweet, sour, salty, hot and bitter. In a well-prepared dish, each essence can be savored equally—none will sing out over its companions. Similarly, color and texture are created by the subtle play of ingredients in each dish, as in the classic pad Thai with broad rice noodles never smothering the tiny flecks of red-rimmed tofu, the crunch of bean sprouts, the silk of soft egg. You should be able to savor earthy dried shrimp, the tang of tamarind and the bite of hot red pepper. And, also a signature of Thai food, you can further season your food to your own taste with a variety of condiments. Contrary to what many Americans assume, Thai food is not always searingly spicy—but it can be if that’s what you want.

“Spicy hot, spicy not,” laughs Chef Suchan Phatiphong of Benjarong Thai restaurant in Rockville. He learned to cook at the knees of his grandmother in Bangkok, who sent him to market with a basket over his arm, taught him which peppers to buy and how to make a good fish sauce. Forty-some years later Phatiphong leans over a bowl and pushes my fingers away from the hot pepper powder he’s put on its rim. Don’t touch it with your fingers, he admonishes, it can burn. Instead, I use a spoon and sprinkle liberally. I pick up the lime and start to squeeze and the chef’s eyebrows go up—not too much, he is telling me.

You’re likely to get those raised eyebrows if you ask for chopsticks, as well. They are not traditional to Thailand.

But everything else is to the diner’s individual taste. “If they walk in, we’ll find something they’ll like,” says Jessada Photong, known as Fluke, who warmly greets customers old and new at the door of Thai Corner in Bethesda. “We have some spicy, some medium…” Indeed, Thai Corner Chef Nopadol Mimaphunta makes three different curries during my visit. I try one after the other and decide I like the spiciness of the green curry best. The yellow curry is mild, the red deeper and sweet. Each is made from curry paste made fresh in the kitchen; their ingredients vary, but include different combinations of dried red chilies or fresh green ones, galangal (a relative of ginger), lemon grass and kaffir lime and skin. The kaffir, or wild lime, aroma makes me think of the blue skies and heat of the tropics when I sniff the crushed dark green leaf—one of the “bitter” taste elements. Phatiphong of Benjarong grows his own, along with peppers and lemon grass.

After choosing their dishes from the menu, diners can then tailor them with condiments, which Thai people use lavishly. Look for these on the table: bright red-orange pepper sauce, brown and salty sauce made with fermented fish faintly reminiscent of anchovies, a clear vinegar with green peppers and sometimes a thick, sweet, Chinese hoisin sauce. There is no “right” way to use them—so you can have fun experimenting.

You can also expect to test your companions’ food—traditionally, everyone shares. Mealtimes in Thailand are thought of as bright, happy occasions. Common dishes are placed in the center of the table, and each individual reaches for bits of each dish to mix in with his or her own bowl of rice. Rice is a staple in Thailand: kin kao, “to eat food,” literally means “to eat rice.”

Even the noodles, which come in various shapes, are rice-based; “Drunken Noodles” (pad kee mao), typical Thai fare, are big, flat noodles sautéed with various meats, Thai basil (spicier than the sweet basil growing in many American gardens, and a key ingredient in many Thai dishes), chili and garlic, all of which comes together as comfort food, Thai style.

Also traditional is papaya salad, made of shredded green papaya and raw green beans with a complex sauce that, if authentic, should include lime, turmeric, fish sauce, coconut sugar, garlic and chili. The salad is topped with peanuts. Laab or larb is finely minced meat—pork, chicken or beef—mixed with hot chili, lime, coriander and/or mint and sometimes roasted ground rice. In some regions of Thailand it is made with raw meat, usually pork, but we have not found that to be true here. Thai iced tea is a sweet treat rendered in sunset colors with condensed milk and orange tea. Sticky rice with mango for dessert is hard to resist.

If you are feeling particularly adventurous, you can find less mainstream choices at Wheaton’s Ruan Thai, known among ethnic food fans for more unusual items (along with the standards). For example, Yum Watercress features deep-fried watercress mounded together with chewy calamari, raw red onion, rich roasted cashews and a limey dressing in a riot of flavor and texture.


Top Thai Restaurants


Benjarong Thai
Décor in this comfortable, well-turned-out restaurant reflects co-owner Cici Hart’s import-export business; you’ll find niches with sculpture, Thai art and thoughtful details in wood trim and framing. The food is the real thing; it comes from a proud chef who learned from his grandmother in Thailand. He has taught classes in Thai cookery in the U.S., and grows his own kaffir lime and peppers. Presentation adds to the allure; sticky rice with mango is especially good and the pad Thai unbeatable. 885 Rockville Pike (Wintergreen Plaza), Rockville, 301-424-5533.

Thai Corner
This small kitchen turns out big variety, from whole fish to crabmeat wrapped in bean curd skin, a selection of curries and chicken, beef or crispy fish with basil. Eager to please, the kitchen will adjust your order to steamed instead of fried, mild instead of spicy, or you can use sauces at the table to season your own. Chef Nopadol Mimaphunta was one of the first Thai cooks in the area, at the old Thai Room in Washington; his restaurant reflects a deep understanding of his native cuisine and accommodates the many nationalities who enjoy it. The dining room is cozy and comfortable, just steps off the bustle further down Bethesda Avenue. 4733 Bethesda Ave., Bethesda, 301-654-0262.

Bangkok Garden
Packed with rich carvings, artwork, sculpture and collectibles, this 20-something-year-old matron of local Thai food is a visual as well as gustatory feast. Walk over a little bridge from vestibule to dining room and look for the usual array of curries, rolls, noodles, soups and salads on the menu—with a few Chinese items sprinkled in. This place is respected by area Thai chefs; if you want to go especially authentic, ask for the Thai menu, which you’ll need translated, or ask for “Thai style” when you order off the regular menu. 4906 St. Elmo Ave., Bethesda, 301-951-0670.

Sala Thai
This spacious corner property looks contemporary and delivers with comfortably familiar Thai staples like tom yum, satay, papaya salad, drunken noodle and the like. Part of a local chain, it is one of seven Sala Thai locations in the area. Its most distinctive standout is the live jazz offered Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights—no cover charge. 4828 Cordell Ave., Bethesda, 301-654-4676.


VIETNAMESE

After Thai food, Vietnamese will feel familiar—with some important differences. Instead of sweet iced tea, there is the famous iced coffee; if you’re an old hand at this, you’ll ask for extra water to make it go farther at your table. Like the Thai, Vietnamese season their food at the table, liberally sprinkling and splashing hot pepper and fish sauces to customize their plates. There is the ubiquitous rice, noodles galore and more beef options than at a typical Thai restaurant.

The Vietnamese are also the ones who make those great summer rolls, so good, in fact, some Thai restaurants have usurped them; instead of being fried like egg rolls, these wraps use uncooked, translucent rice paper wrapped around a tight package of vermicelli noodles, fresh vegetables, often mint, and sometimes shrimp and pork. Good ones will have enough flavor to stand on their own, but sauces make the dish.

Sauces are an essential element in Vietnam. Kim Su Tu, the chief cook of the Tu family’s Taste of Saigon in Rockville, arrives hours before the restaurant opens each day to make 25 to 30 of the sauces from chilies, fish sauce, beans, soy, vinegar and more—to accompany specific dishes. The secrets to these sauces and other recipes are closely guarded, passed down to Kim by her mother-in-law, “Ma Tu,” the former matriarch who ran a restaurant in Saigon before the family evacuated in 1975.

When they began serving Americans, Ma Tu would make two pots of Saigon beef stew—one for “new customers,” says Kim—mostly Americans—the other for Vietnamese. The meat in the Vietnamese pot was fattier, and included beef tendon, a chewy ribbon of sinew favored by natives. Eventually the restaurant made only the American pot, because so much of the Vietnamese would be left over—but they still make the homier version if you call in advance. Vietnamese food has changed so much, even back home, that Khai Tu, Ma Tu’s son who runs the Rockville restaurant with his brother Khie Tu, says there’s no such thing as authentic anymore.

At Pho Hiep Hoa in Silver Spring, homestyle Vietnamese dishes are still on the menu every day. Amy Nguyen, daughter of proprietor Hiep Nguyen, describes her native food as, “pretty much a blend of everybody.” The differences: “Unlike Chinese, we’re not oily or greasy.” Vietnamese is less spicy than Thai, she says, and uses piles of fresh herbs—whole branches of basil, for example, served beside pho (beef soup) and used the way Americans crumble crackers into chowder. Customers ask for “the real taste,” says Nguyen, so the restaurant offers at least 10 kinds of pho (including tendon, tripe and fatty eye-round) as well as huu tieu—a chicken-based soup—and, if you know to ask for it, the more complex bun bo hue, along with a full menu, which includes Spicy Trasi or “True Viet Diner,” meat, lemon grass and vegetables in a clay pot.

Vietnamese food is heavily influenced by China: The Vietnamese migrated from that country around 1500 B.C. Eventually, southern Chinese traditions like chopsticks (yes, they do use them in Vietnam), stir-fry, noodles, soy sauce, ginger and tofu took root. The 100-year French occupation brought butter, baguettes, yogurt and coffee; the rest of Southeast Asia and India contributed curries and spices.

On most local menus, you’ll find authentic caramel dishes, with a deep brown, sweet sauce mixed with peppers and other spices and served in a traditional clay pot as a stew. In a country with two seasons—rainy and dry—Khai Tu says it is a perfect rainy season meal, hot soup for a rainy day.

There’s also beef in grape leaves, or bo nuong la nho, ground meat mixed with spices and flavored with the smoke of the grill. The best way to imbue sauces—and this also works for dumplings—is to use your chopsticks to poke a hole in the top and spoon the sauce in. Banh xeo, or “golden crepe,” is another popular selection among Viet-fans: an enormous crepe (it should be crispy on the outside, soft inside) filled with savories like shrimp, pork and vegetables, Nguyen considers it the Vietnamese taco.

And, of course, there’s pho, pronounced “fuh,” but widely recognized as the Americanized “foe.” Shops that specialize in this signature beef soup pride themselves on their broths; I was scolded by one chef who learned I’d not yet tasted his version of what could be called the national dish. Pho restaurants, like Pho 75, one of the region’s most popular, are named by number so that the chefs’ signature broths will be recognized as distinct from someone else’s; one Vietnamese explained to me that the number is easier for Americans to pronounce than the Vietnamese name.

The original Pho Hiep Hoa in Wheaton, however, is named for the owner and heavily patronized by Vietnamese, for whom language is no problem. Expect a big bowl of broth with a tangle of vermicelli noodles and whatever meat you’ve ordered, with a huge plate of bean sprouts and basil and sauces on the side. Don’t be afraid to sauce liberally and watch the broth change color as each new addition is swirled in. Grab chopsticks for the noodles and beef, slurp your noodles and either use the flat spoon you’ll find on the table, or slurp—never considered rude in Vietnam—the broth directly from the bowl.

Vietnamese dessert is one of the greater adventures for American diners. Bean puddings are typical—super-sweet concoctions involving beans, coconut milk and strands of chewy tapioca and/or shredded agar-agar, a gelatin made of seaweed—things normally not seen together at an American table. Mixed with ice in a tall glass and stirred with a spoon, it’s exotic and fun—though perhaps an acquired taste. You’ll also find sticky rice and fried bananas for dessert, as on Thai menus, and in some places crème brûlée. The mango crème brûlée at Taste of Saigon is especially satisfying. Equally foreign to American palates are the salty-sweet drinks, like salty lemonade.

Taste of Saigon
This popular eatery comes from a long tradition, starting with a restaurant in Saigon and winding up with a loyal following of Rockville locals who have befriended the gregarious Tu family. You can get traditional food, like rolls, dumplings and beef in grape leaves, hot pot and pho (though you have to order grittier items like beef tendon in advance) or French-influenced fare like black pepper steak, pork chop and asparagus crabmeat soup. Portions are generous and presentation lovely. 410 Hungerford Drive, Rockville, 301-424-7222.

Green Papaya
This is Bethesda’s most central Vietnamese restaurant, and a handsome place to land for a quiet meal. Surrounded by eye-catching décor, like the wall of water sliding across soothing blue tile and a curious palm tree carved of wood, the place feels peaceful. The menu is comprehensive, and includes Vietnamese favorites as well as some more creative treatment of traditional ingredients. We especially enjoyed the duck papaya salad. 4922 Elm St., Bethesda, 301-654-8986.

Pho Hiep Hoa
The Wheaton location offers a pho-only, bare-bones shop with mostly Vietnamese diners, and in Silver Spring a much more extensive but still highly authentic menu in more comfortable surroundings. The Silver Spring restaurant also has excellent pho, along with conventional clay-pot caramel dishes, summer rolls, curries, banh xeo pancakes and the like. You can try “True Viet Diner” of seasoned meat and vegetables as well, and the desserts and sweet drinks are fun to explore. 921 Ellsworth Drive, Silver Spring, 301-588-5808; 2211-A University Blvd. West, Wheaton, 301-933-7660.

Miss Saigon
This upscale restaurant perches on a second floor overlooking the new Rockville Town Center. Décor is soothing, bathed in warm light with an eye-level fireplace and a soothing slate waterfall. Food can be on the bland side, but sauces help juice it up. Service is friendly; the menu includes clay pot, curries, banh xeo, French-influenced steaks and plenty of vegetarian options. 11 N. Washington St., Rockville, 301-838-9070.


JAPANESE


Japanese stands furthest apart from the other Asian cuisines. Like Thai and Vietnamese, it features sticky rice and all different sorts of noodles. Many dishes are served at once—typically rice, soup, a protein like fish and perhaps pickled vegetables—much as they are at Thai and Vietnamese tables. You can slurp your noodles, sip your soup and use chopsticks. But where Thai and Vietnamese foods are like big, happy parties, with lots of different ingredients mixing together, Japanese food is more like a soothing, contemplative meditation on the singular essence of each morsel.

Japanese food is much simpler than Southeast Asian food. Freshness and quality are paramount. Vegetables and fish figure prominently; meat is a late introduction to the culture and while it is present on Japanese menus, it does not dominate. Japanese cuisine is refreshingly lean and light.

Perhaps this comes from Japan’s history, which includes thin times, when rice, with just a hint of flavor from a scrap of fish, had to fill bellies. Migrating from barren northern steppes and adapting to temperate climates with relatively little land for cultivation (unlike the lush southern latitudes of Southeast Asia), Japanese people made do. Thus, we have tiny pieces of tangy pickled plum or salty dried bonito fish, tucked into a ball of sticky rice and wrapped in nori seaweed. The effect—called onigiri, or rice ball—is a powerful zing of flavor set apart by the satisfyingly filling texture of the rice. Similarly, the ubiquitous sushi stretches prime pieces of fish by presenting them, beautifully, with rice and vegetables.

Visual appeal is another essential element of Japanese cooking. With small quantity, the Japanese learned to savor each bit—and one way they accomplished this was to present it as if it were a jewel. Colors and shapes of dishes are matched with food and garnishes—pickled vegetables or simple leaves. Even in small, homey restaurants like Temari on Rockville Pike, the chef puts thought into presentation: The salad bowl may be plastic but is a lovely translucent yellow/green, and even the carryout containers are tasteful, earth-colored bowls.

Sushi, of course, is a primary example of eye-catching presentation; simple ingredients combined become a complex work of art. For the uninitiated, sushi is any one of countless combinations of raw or cooked fish, vegetables and sticky rice: Sashimi is the fish itself, and maki is rolled up in sheets of nori seaweed (as in California roll, an Americanization with crabmeat, avocado and cucumber). At Temari my, literally “bowl,” of sliced tuna and avocado over rice, could have been a jumble. Instead it features carefully layered tuna separated by a single lettuce leaf from an oval of sliced avocado; this is perched on snowy rice littered with strips of nori, all presented in a square bowl enameled black outside and rust red inside. Similarly, a simple seaweed salad at Tako Grill in Bethesda is minimally adorned with two lemon slices, three cucumber slices, a tangle of daikon and a spray of radish sprouts. A whole sea bass is cunningly plated as if in mid-swim, curved in an “S.” 

You will be served soy-based sauces but Americans typically overdo their dipping, says Kunio Yasutake, owner of the venerable Matuba in Bethesda. Instead, you should savor each bit, dip sparingly and don’t be afraid to drop the chopsticks for sushi and use your fingers, as he does.

While sushi may be the initial draw for Americans sampling Japanese flavors, there is much more to try. Equally identified with Japanese cuisine is miso soup, served with every meal. Made from fermented soybeans, it should be delicately salty with silky cubes of tofu. Expect your tempura, another familiar selection, to retain the unique flavor of the vegetables or seafood it features, with the lightest of crispy batter (the secret is to dip the food in ice-cold batter, then sizzling hot oil, so that it puffs away from the food and crisps while the food steams).

Teriyaki is another popular choice. “Teri” means “glossy,” and “yaki” means “grilling.” The words describe the shiny results of basting and grilling the meat—usually chicken, but often beef or fish—which leaves a caramelized surface and a moist center.

Noodles in Japanese restaurants include udon (wheat-based) and soba (buckwheat), and are sometimes served as ramen, a broth of noodles garnished with seaweed, fish cakes, egg, bean sprouts and pork.

Matuba
Matuba has been around for 28 years. A pleasant space with a staff who shouts out, “Irashyai” (welcome!) when you walk in the door, it’s upbeat and popular.  The “rotary sushi bar,” a conveyor belt of sushi, is a big attraction, but the rest of the menu is also worth considering: gyoza (dumplings), seaweed salad, tempura, udon, teriyaki and donburi. Some of the sushi creations are eye popping (the crab tower has soft-shell crab and vegetable roll in yuzu sauce, a spicy Japanese orange concoction). Chef and owner Yasutake is a sushi master featured at National Geographic demonstrations and each year at the Cherry Blossom Festival. He travels to Japan, New York and San Francisco to continue learning the art of Japanese cooking, and hopes to perfect noodle making next. 4918 Cordell Ave., Bethesda, 301-652-7449.

Tako Grill
Voted as having the “Best Sushi” by the readers of Bethesda Magazine, Tako Grill does shine in this area, with a well-endowed sushi bar and a host of chefs (of several nationalities) keeping the sushi moving. But the menu offers much more, all of it authentic—lots of fish and seaweed, teriyaki, tempura and several kinds of soothing noodles. Specials are especially good, like melt-on-your-tongue fatty tuna. Wait staff is well-informed and pleasant. 7756 Wisconsin Ave., Bethesda, 310-652-7030.

Temari
Tucked into a strip mall, Temari is so unpretentious one of its decorative elements is a bookcase stacked with Japanese comic books—well used by the heavily Japanese clientele. Casual and authentic, the restaurant takes great care with presentation as well as preparation, and the food is fresh and lovely. Look for the ceramic cat grinning from a shelf—it is a symbol for happiness, a sentiment easy to find in a soothing bowl of miso soup and pristine sashimi on rice. Along with many seafood options, Temari has tonkatsu, the deep-fried breaded pork popular in Japan, as well as chicken and wafu—Japanese-style—hamburger steak, served with radish sauce and rice. 1043 Rockville Pike, Rockville, 310-320-7720.

Aji-Nippon
Located across the parking lot from the Japanese grocery Daruma, Aji-Nippon, literally “Taste of Japan,” first opened in 1988 and is one of few area restaurants featuring shabu-shabu, the cook-your-own experience involving raw meat, lots of veggies and boiling broth. The small dining room offers outstanding sushi as well as sukiyaki,
soba and udon noodles, tempura and more. 6937 Arlington Road, Bethesda, 301-654-0213.

Hinode
Sit at a table or opt for pillows on the floor at Hinode, where you’ll find a full Japanese menu with gyoza (dumplings), udon soup, tempura, combination plates, sushi and no fewer than 13 salads. Chefs are both Japanese and Korean, so don’t be surprised to find kimchi on the popular lunch buffet in Rockville—along with bowls of tofu cubes and and scallion ready for you to add to the miso. Also found on the buffet is color-coded sushi—easily identified as raw, cooked or spicy by identifying tags. Among the more interesting choices is the Baltimore roll, spiced with Old Bay. 4914 Hampden Lane, Bethesda, 301-654-0908; 134 Congressional Lane, Rockville, 301-816-2190.


OTHER ASIAN CUISINES

Korean

After Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese and Japanese, Korean restaurants are most common, clustered in Rockville and Wheaton. Many grill meat right at the table; all offer panchan, the traditional small bowls that are less condiment and more an integral part of the meal—an array of kimchi, fermented or pickled vegetables, bean sprouts and fresh radishes, for example. Like Thai and Vietnamese food, traditionally everything at the Korean table is shared and one’s “private” plate becomes a mixing bowl for various dishes combined to individual taste. Look for plenty of soy (tofu, soy sauce), a la Japanese; mandu, dumplings, as in China; and haemul pajun, similar to Vietnamese banh xeo pancake.

Woomi Garden
Grilling at the table is popular here; photos on the menu help identify unfamiliar foods but you’ll find Korean standards like bulgogi, thin slices of intensely marinated rib eye (wrapped in lettuce leaves) and galbi, boneless short ribs. As in many other Korean restaurants, Japanese food is also featured—this one includes a sushi bar, tempura and teriyaki—plus a fish pond. 2423 Hickerson Drive, Wheaton, 301-933-0100.

Sam Woo
Sam Woo also has cooking tables for sizzling meats; as at other Korean restaurants, look for lots of beef, including the popular bibimbap, a compilation of rice, veggies and beef much like a stir-fry. There is a sushi bar and other Japanese options. 1054 Rockville Pike, Rockville, 301-424-0496.

Lighthouse Tofu
Nicely decorated and service conscious, Lighthouse offers eight kinds of tofu soup, both vegetarian and with meat. Spice it up with an array of panchan, side dishes, including a raw egg—break it into the soup while it’s still hot! You can also choose among five levels of spice, from mild “white” to mouth-searing “spicy spicy.” The haemul pajun “pancake” is delicious, brought sizzling to the table and sliced like a pizza. 12710 Twinbrook Parkway, Rockville. 301-881-1178.


Malaysian

Penang
Malaysia is split in two; part of it hangs down from the end of Thailand into the South China Sea, and the other part borders Indonesia on an island facing Vietnam.

The state of Penang is close to the Thai border, so it’s no surprise that at Penang the restaurant, rice is a staple and dominant spices include galangal, wild lime, pepper and lemon grass. There are differences, however: Indian influences (in curries and roti), and Indonesian (in gado-gado, a vegetable salad with peanut sauce), for example. There is also satay, spiced and skewered meat; and beef rendang, a spicy dish involving chilies, ginger, coconut and a host of other flavorings. Penang, the restaurant, is part of a small national chain. 4933 Bethesda Ave., Bethesda, 301-657-2878.


Burmese

Mandalay
With an encyclopedic menu, Mandalay has a taste of Thai in selections like papaya salad, Myanmar iced coffee reminiscent of the Vietnamese version, and a bit of India in curries and deep-fried gram fritters made of yellow split peas, ginger and garlic. That makes sense: Myanmar—once known as Burma—is sandwiched between Thailand and India. Family run, Mandalay is a staple among locals and a destination for those who remember its first popular location in College Park; service is dependable and on Sundays you may see large extended families of Asians there, along with the Americans who have learned to navigate the varied menu. Look for lots of vegetarian options, five different kinds of noodles in various combinations, and variations in spice—“would you like that hot?” means “would you like fire on your tongue?” The ginger salad is especially good. 930 Bonifant St., Silver Spring, 301-585-0500.


Freelance writer and editor Virginia Myers lives in Takoma Park.

 


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