Pho Bar Vietnamese Kitchen (https://phobar.co/) has two locations in South Florida and one in Boston, but I didn’t label this review of its relatively new Orlando location with my “Chain Reactions” tag because it doesn’t feel like a chain… at least not yet. I recently went to Pho Bar for the first time, looked at the menu in person, but ordered everything as takeout to bring home to my wife.
She always wants summer rolls from any Vietnamese or Thai restaurant, so I brought her these two HUGE spring rolls (that’s what Pho Bar calls them, even though I think of spring rolls as the crispy deep-fried ones), with shrimp, pork, shredded lettuce, bean sprouts, and basil wrapped in rice paper and served with a peanut-hoisin sauce for dipping. These were much larger than most restaurants’ versions of summer rolls, and they came individually wrapped in plastic wrap. I should have waited for her to unwrap them before snapping this picture, but oh well.
I thought we would both enjoy splitting the grilled satay squid, which is always an impressive dish to me. The presentation is eye-catching for sure, with the grilled squid sliced into perfect rings and separate tentacles. It was seasoned with a chili soy marinade, and while I liked it, she didn’t love the flavor of this squid. It was chewier than we are both used to, and I give the edge to the similar-but-superior grilled squid at Z Asian Vietnamese Kitchen, just a few minutes east on Colonial Drive. 
The two sauces that came with the squid are ginger fish sauce, which was on the pungent side, and “green chili sauce,” which I really loved. It had a kick, but also a cool sort of flavor. I admit I used most of that sauce on some pork loin I marinated, roasted, and sliced very thin.
Like any good Vietnamese restaurant, Pho Bar packed our pho broth separately, so the rice noodles wouldn’t turn to mush while sitting in the hot brother. Unlike a lot of pho places, Pho Bar makes their rice noodles fresh in-house, and you can see they are wider than the traditional dried “rice sticks.” But for purists, they also offer traditional rice vermicelli instead. My wife always orders pho tai, with beef eye round, sliced paper-thin. It is always served rare, because it cooks in the steaming broth. 
I will usually order pho dac biet, which comes with thin-sliced eye round, sliced brisket, chewy beef meatballs (nothing like Italian meatballs!), beef tendon, and tripe. But at Pho Bar, I was tempted by a more expensive option, pho suon bo, with brisket, meatballs, and short rib, which is a cut of beef I always love. Here’s my bowl before I added broth to it, but the short rib was too large to fit:
That was a whole meal in itself, so I ended up with the short rib standing alone at the end! It was a huge piece of meat, rich and marbled with fat, and the long bone slid right out. We had so much extra broth left over, I cooked up some noodles (the knife-cut Taiwanese noodles with fluted edges that I always keep in the pantry, not proper rice noodles for pho) and got a whole extra meal with that giant short rib. 
And as we’re about to experience some unseasonably cold days here in the Orlando area, I still have even more of Pho Bar’s pho broth left over, so I have since bought some rice noodles for when I heat up the rest. This is going to be perfect weather for pho, which is why I’m publishing this review today, of all days.
I still contend the pho at my beloved Pho Huong Lan is the best in Orlando, and I am more likely to return there than to Pho Bar. But I’m certainly glad I tried the new place. It wasn’t bad by any means, even if neither of us loved the grilled squid. If you’re planning to dine in at Pho Bar, the restaurant itself is much nicer than Pho Huong Lan — less cramped, modern decor, comfortable booths. I expect it will do well in the Mills 50 neighborhood, even with so much competition within the same few blocks. It feels like more of a “date place,” complete with full bar (hence the name). The website lists a whole menu of cocktails in addition to beer, wine, and sake, or as hipster foodie influencers prefer to call it, a “cocktail program.”
It was good, but the bun bo hue at Pho Huong Lan still wins.
My wife reminded me to mention that she first asked for a simple Shirley Temple, but the gorgeous, well-stocked bar did not have any grenadine syrup, something we both thought was odd at the time.
This was AWESOME. We both loved it. This was another dish with a crispy exterior and soft, yielding interior, kind of like fries or tater tots — not in taste, but in “mouth feel.” They were terrific with the sauce, and I liked the pickled vegetables (necessary ingredients on any banh mi sandwich) a lot.
My research tells me hu tieu is a Chinese-Cambodian invention that was adapted to Vietnamese tastes in the city of Saigon, and that I could have also ordered a “dry” version with a small bowl of soup on the side to protect my work clothes in the future.
To be completely honest, this was okay. I feel like I did not make the best choice. I might have been happier with pho or bun bo hue, but I kept thinking about how hot it was for soup (on a scorching August afternoon in Florida), and how it would be hard to beat 
Gumbo is more like a soup or stew than jambalaya, just in case you have confused them in the past. Both have similar ingredients, but gumbo always has more of a broth, with white rice on the bottom of the cup or bowl.
All the fried platters come with two sides. I chose potato salad and onion rings, so long-time Saboscrivner readers know this is also a RING THE ALARM! feature. The potato salad was cool and refreshing, tangy with a little yellow mustard the way Southern potato salads often are. The onion rings were breaded rather than battered, but they didn’t have those jagged crags that cut up the inside of your mouth, and the onions inside were at a reasonable temperature, not molten and scalding. I dipped the oysters and onion rings in the included cocktail sauce, but the remoulade (not pictured) was the best dipping sauce for both.
I’ve slurped, scarfed, sipped, and supped on pho dac biet all over Orlando, so I wanted to try this as pure and unadulterated as possible. I didn’t add any sambal oelek, sriracha, or hoisin sauce to my pho, just the fresh basil, fresh jalapeño slices, and a healthy squirt of lime. And it was perfectly fine. It didn’t capture the majestic magnificence of my other 2023 discovery, 
I’ve always felt that pad Thai is a great dish for judging a new and/or unfamiliar Thai restaurant, along with my personal go-to Thai dish, pad kee mao, sometimes known as drunken noodles. I think my wife chose wisely, because she really loved Twenty Pho Hour’s version of pad Thai. She let me try a taste, and I liked it too.
She seemed to like them a lot, but she didn’t dig on the sweet chili sauce they came with. She greatly prefers the sweet peanut sauce that most other Vietnamese restaurants serve their summer rolls with. Little did we realize, Twenty Pho Hour also serves more traditional summer rolls with that peanut sauce, but oh well, lesson learned.
The rice noodles were thicker and more tender than the rice vermicelli most local restaurants served. We both liked them a lot.
The bottom one is the #3, cured pork belly, which was also really good. You can see how they both come dressed with sliced fresh cucumbers and jalapeño peppers, fresh cilantro, and pickled shredded carrot and daikon radish, making everything taste very cool, refreshing, and crunchy. What you can’t see are the smears of creamy mayo (or possibly even butter?) that lubricate the inner baguette surfaces, plus the rich, savory pate (think liverwurst, but better). I would definitely order both in the future.
The Saboscrivner 