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Now that I'm old enough to have great-grandchildren, for the most part I've outgrown the food peccadilloes of my down-on-the-farm childhood. I now eat the crusts on bread, for instance (well, most of the time), and I no longer insist on removing the skin from a tomato before I'll eat it, as I insisted that my long-suffering mother do way back then. But still, no one would call me adventurous when it comes to food. When my husband Jack and I saw that Pho Viez, a new "Vietnamese restaurant with a twist" had replaced a Chinese eatery we frequented in Mineral Ridge, we agreed to give it a try. Probably. Someday.
That day came on a recent Saturday night, when we were joined by frequent dining-out companions Jerry and Barb. They've both somewhat experienced at eating Vietnam food, so they were up to the task (and we figured they'd be the perfect guides to help us navigate the menu).
Good thing. When I looked it over on the restaurant's website, I was pretty much lost. I was interested in trying something new, but some of the ingredients sounded a bit off-putting. That, in turn, made me stop and think about how much food likes and dislikes are a matter of personal perspective. Growing up, you see, I thought nothing about helping mom pick the pinfeathers off a chicken she'd just killed for dinner or chowing down on her fried brains - a relative household staple. But tripe? Tofu? Pickled daikon? I have zero frame of reference for those, so my instinct was to say, no way.
In person, we found that the restaurant's interior has remained much the same, although with a freshened-up look (photos of the main dishes above the take-out order counter are much brighter, for one thing). We'd decided to eat in as long as a table was available - which it was - and a very helpful, enthusiastic young server followed us to bring menus. Silverware and napkins are already on the tables, along with a few add-in condiments like soy sauce, and the server brought our drinks in very short order.
The "twist" referred to in the restaurant's tagline, I'm assuming, refers to the fact that in addition to Vietnamese, diners can choose Thai dishes, such as Pad Thai, as well as more familiar (to us) Chinese entrees like Lo-Mein and General Tso's chicken. The specialty is Pho, a Vietnamese beef noodle soup made by simmering beef bone, flank steak, brisket daikon and herbs for hours (a meal in and of itself, priced at $9.25 to $11.95). But going in, Jack and I both reasoned that those Chinese options would serve as a fail-safe in case we chickened out on trying a Vietnamese dish. For the record, he did exactly that - opting for his old standby, sweet and sour chicken (with fried rice, which I hasten to add he never eats; we just bring it home for me to eat the next day).
The menu isn't what I'd call extensive, but rest assured there's plenty here to satisfy most diners - and certainly those who are looking for Vietnamese fare. To start, we got two orders of the spring rolls (two for $5.95) - described as vermicelli, Romaine lettuce, bean sprouts and a choice of shrimp, pork or tofu wrapped in rice paper and served with house dipping sauce.
When they arrived, the near transparent rice paper provided a good look at the ingredients therein, and the peanut dipping sauce was a nice contrast. Now I'll be honest here: My first bite felt like I'd bitten into a shower curtain. Add that to the discovery that cucumbers were lurking inside, and let's just say I wasn't too excited about taking a second bite. But a little poking around revealed that the cucumber was cut in long strips and easy to pull out (cucumber-loving Barb snatched them up immediately), I gave it another try - and it really was quite tasty (that peanut dipping sauce is especially wonderful).
Will I try one again? More likely I'll stick with a more traditional (to me) crispy spring roll or six-piece dumpling, fried or steamed ($4.95). Everyone else, though, raved about them, so don't hesitate to give them a try.
For our entrees, we all picked something different, with the intent of sharing a bite or two. Barb ordered Bun (rice vermicelli noodles on a bed of lettuce, herbs, bean sprouts, cucumber, carrots, peanuts, spring roll and house fish sauce, $11.95 with a choice of meat). Jerry's choice was Pad Thai (a.k.a., Mi Zao Thai Lan), this restaurant's version of the classic Asian stir-fry of rice noodles, bean sprouts, egg, ground peanuts and chives in tamarind sauce and a choice of meat ($10-$11.95).
Fear of the unknown almost made me go with that General Tso's chicken that I know I love, but in the end the opportunity to try something different won out and I opted for the red curry, with bell peppers, carrots, bamboo shoots and onions simmered that aforementioned coconut milk. It comes with white rice (I paid a buck more for fried rice) and a choice of tofu, chicken, beef or shrimp - perhaps thinking about my mom, it was chicken for me. The cost ranges from $10 to $12.95 depending on options, but mine ended up at $11.
Let me add here that when I see "spicy" on a menu item, I always request that mine be "as spicy as you can make it." Even then, never, ever, has any dish been too hot for me to eat. This time, though, our server fought back - arguing that there's no way I'd be able to eat their hottest version. Despite my unabashed begging, we compromised; yes, he said, they'd add a little extra heat.
When our orders were delivered, right up front we all agreed on two points: The presentation is outstanding - all the items on the plates are beautifully arranged - and, as advertised, all the ingredients are as fresh as can be. Clearly, the food here is far and away above the often overcooked Chinese buffet fare with meats of suspicious origin. Not only does everything here look fantastic, but it all tastes just-cooked as well.

I also learned rather quickly that our server probably kept me from total meltdown by insisting that I really didn't want it as hot as they could make it. In fact, there was a noticeable kick to it - enough that, after Barb ventured a tiny taste, no one else in our little party would come near it. Later, the owner explained she'd used only half a spoonful of whatever infuses the heat; and although I'm sure I could have handled a whole spoonful, it's likely that next time I order this dish I'll stick with what worked this time around. And yes, it was delicious enough to order again (and I had plenty left over to take home and enjoy the next day).
Conclusion? With no reservations, we'd say we were impressed. And here's another impressive note: Barb told us they'd eaten at a Vietnamese restaurant in Chicago not long ago, and Pho Viez compares quite well. No surprise here - it just underscores my reason for starting this blog years ago: When it comes to great food, anything you can find anywhere else in the country you can find just as good - and often better - right here at home.
If you go:
Pho Viez
3971 S. Main St.
Mineral Ridge, OH 44440
(330) 349-0889
Open Tuesday through Saturday 11 a.m. to 9 p.m.; closed Sunday and Monday.
http://www.phoviez.com
"The most beautiful adventures are not those we go to seek."
Intriguing quote, but more on that later. When I said back when winter was in full swing that my husband Jack and I would be staying relatively close to home to find restaurants until the Spring thaw, I wasn't thinking quite this close. But one very snowy night when our friends, Jerry and Barb, asked us to join them at a restaurant near Youngstown, fate intervened. Just as we started out, we ran smack dab into driving snow and a very icy road and made an instant decision to not push our luck. Well, Jerry said, is anyone up for Chinese? Sure, we agreed, after which he pointed the car toward downtown Niles and the Chef Peng Chinese Restaurant. He and Barb, he explained, eat there often.

Since that fateful night, we’ve eaten there a few more times simply because it’s close - not far from the center of Niles - and the food is outstanding.
The entire place is far from lavish and it’s on the small side - not a lot of tables and just a few booths - but the Oriental-style decor is quite pleasing nonetheless; on the way in, there’s a huge fish tank filled with colorful critters. When our server arrived to take our drink orders -- no alcohol here, for the record -- we all jumped at hot tea on that first visit, no doubt because our coats still were dusted with a few snowflakes and our insides craved something warm and soothing.

I'm a tea-lover, and this was quite good; each couple got a pot to share. If I had a complaint, it is that the little handle-less cups got very hot very quickly once the liquid was poured inside. That's fine for those who don't want their tea almost boiling hot -- just wait a few minutes for the tea to cool down -- but that's not me. Once the cup gets cool enough to pick up with my fingers, the tea has passed its prime as far as I'm concerned, so I was forced to wrap the cup with my napkin before I could pick it up.
On a recent occasion when we all got together here, we started with soup. Only won ton can be purchased by the cup ($1.75); crab meat corn, hot and sour and a couple of others are sold only in large bowls starting at $3.95. Two of us - Barb and Jack - went for won ton, while my favorite is hot and sour. Jerry, meanwhile, tried the crab meat corn just to see if we liked it.
I say “we” because we enjoy sharing, especially when it’s something a bit out of the ordinary. The won ton soup was filled with dumplings and other "stuff" I didn't bother to write down but probably should have, and my hot and sour had the usual tang, though possibly a bit less than at other oriental restaurants. But since none of us had tried the crab meat corn (and the bowl was huge), we all dug in. It was quite tasty, creamy with corn and bits of crabmeat, but we all agreed we wouldn’t want a lot of it.
The list of entrees is extensive -- both "combination plate" with an egg roll and fried rice and "dinners," larger portions served with steamed rice or, for 50 cents more, fried rice. Several appetizers are there as well, and and a four-item kids menu ranges from $3.95 to $5.95. There are three desserts: A deep fried banana or apple and Lychee (Chinese fruit), each priced at $4.50.

While we perused the dinner menu, we decided to splurge on a couple of appetizers, considering first the Pu Pu platter to share -- fried shrimp, egg roll, crab meat rangoon, beef teriyaki, fried won ton and paper-wrapped chicken for $9.50, which we’ve enjoyed on previous visits. No, we decided, we'd rather go for three different appetizers that offered more sharing possibilities for the four of us: Crab Meat Rangoon (eight for $3.95), Beef Teriyaki (two skewers for $2.95) and steamed or fried dumplings (six for $4.50, and we chose steamed).
Admittedly, it took us a while to decide on entrees, which are divided by categories like Pork, Chicken, Beef, Shrimp, Lo Mein or Chop Suey and Vegetables as well as portion size -- with quite a number of choices in each. Finally, we all picked something different so we could sample as many things as possible (sorry, Martha, but we're among friends here; sticking our forks in each others' plates is permissible, at least within reason). Our choices included Mongolian Chicken with steamed rice (large portion at $8.25), Sweet and Sour Shrimp ($7.50), Orange Chicken ($6.95) and -- for me, the cast-iron stomach member of the group, the spicy Szechuan Chicken ($6.50, and I ordered it extra spicy).
First came our appetizers, and very quickly we decided we should have passed -- but because they were so good, not because they weren't. The Crab Meat Rangoon -- those little folded handkerchief-like pastries filled with a crab meat-cream cheese mixture -- were delicious. The dumplings were tender and wrapped around tiny balls of sausage; for dipping, there was an intriguing sauce that was cold, slightly spiced with what we suspected might be ginger. The Teriyaki Beef, two fairly large flattened pieces of beef on wood skewers, looked very dry and overcooked. The taste was what I'd call "satisfactory" and they weren't tough like we'd expected, but we agreed we'd all stick with other choices next time out.
Once our entrees arrived -- discerning diners that we are -- we realized that these are not "cookie-cutter" meals. Much to our delight, each had distinctive flavors and ingredients. Trust me, the forks were flying right and left as we tasted our own choices and moved on (again!) to one of the others. Our collective favorite, perhaps, was the Orange Chicken -- a simply wonderful dish we agreed we'd order again in a heartbeat. The Mongolian Chicken was a close second, a huge mound of chicken and grilled, thinly sliced onions (make that lots of grilled onions)! The Sweet and Sour Shrimp comes with the typical bright pinkish-orange sauce that for me (and our friends) is a bit too sweet, but Jack absolutely loves it and devoured every single bite.
As for the Szechuan chicken, it was spicy -- but not even close to what I'd call "hot" -- but I'd made my choice in the knowledge that I probably wouldn't have to share (clearly, my momma didn't raise a fool). Only Jerry had the intestinal fortitude to sample it (and then only a tiny bite). It was filled with chicken, of course, plus tons of thinly sliced veggies like onions and carrots, and quite delicious.
The portions here aren't what I'd call gigantic -- two of the four of us brought home leftovers -- but on the other hand, we went there totally famished and there was plenty to more than satisfy our cold-weather appetites (and the prices are quite reasonable). In all, we went home stuffed at far less cost than we would have spent had we ventured to the restaurant we'd originally planned to visit.
Ah yes -- almost forgot! As at any self-respecting Chinese restaurant, the end of the meal comes with fortune cookies. And of course, as any self-respecting diner would do, we cracked them open to read the advice. The first was a ho-hum: "Goodness is its own reward." The second wasn't much more exciting: "Turn off the TV and computer and exercise your mind with a good book." The third? A big improvement, and advice -- albeit a bit sexist -- we'd all do well to heed: "Every moment is a golden one for him who has the vision to recognize it as such."
By far the most prophetic, though, was this one, with which I started this write-up: "The most beautiful adventures are not those we go to seek."
No, we didn't "seek out" Chef Peng's, but for sure we won't let grass grow under our feet before we go back again!
If you go:
Chef Peng Chinese Restaurant
517 N. Main St.
Niles, Ohio 44446
(330) 544-8132
Open Monday through Friday 11 a.m. to 9:30 p.m.; Saturday Noon to 9:30 p.m.; closed Sunday.