It’s pronounced “fuh,” people, just so you know. Once you break the “foe” habit, phở is fun to say. You’re tempted to add a consonant at the end.

Vietnam’s national dish, phở is a soup consisting of broth, rice noodles, herbs and meat, traditionally beef. I’ve had it numerous times, and liked it.

For an FFF edition about phở, I wanted to feature specfically Vietnamese restaurants. I found two, aptly named: Special Phở in St. Pete and Phở Quyen in Pinellas Park.

SPECIAL PHO

Part of a strip center on 34th Street North that includes a vape store, a nail salon and an Amscot, Special Phở has a basic interior with several big-screen TVs as the primary design element. They showed American programming.

The servers were all young, full of smiles, and spoke good English. Ours was Bang (an Americanized nickname that I urged him to embrace), who helped us customize our meals. My Beef Phở ($16.45) came with sliced filet mignon, beef brisket and meatballs, and left out a couple of items whose names sounded unappetizing. Bang also suggested adding House Phở Noodles ($1.95), which are wider and more authentically Vietnamese.

As a starter, I ordered Vegan Spring Rolls ($5.45). And for some impulsive reason that I cannot explain, I got a Dr Pepper ($2.50).

Appearance

The bowl was big enough to bath an infant in. A massive portion. The beef looked nicely cooked, with swaths of pink. A side plate contained bean sprouts and basil leaves, which I instantly tossed into the bowl.

I was pleased I chose the house noodles over the thin vermicelli. The wide ones added a substantiality of texture and taste. The broth was heavenly. Among the beefs, I preferred the thin-sliced filet, and — had I to do it over — would have gotten only that. The brisket was tender and had an acceptable level of fat. But I was not a fan of the meatballs, which were spongy and tough(ish).

I sprinkled in a few drops of chili oil, which added welcome embers of spicy heat, but not fire.

Eating phở can be tricky. I combined chopsticks, spoon and slurp technique, which meant my face had to stay close to the bowl. Not great for dinner conversation, but I did come up for air a few times.

The spring rolls looked recently hand-made. A thin slice of tofu ran length-wise, a soft counterpoint to the crunch of the vegetables. The wrap was extra-chewy — to good effect. The peanut sauce, flecked with nut crumbles, made for good dipping.

The Dr Pepper was awful. What was I thinking? (Hey, food scribe — ever hear of water?)

PHO QUYEN

Tampa Bay, we have a flooding problem. Or at least northeast St. Pete did late Wednesday afternoon. When our power went out just after 5 p.m., we decided to head to Phở Quyen rather than sitting in darkness and — I dunno — having a conversation?

Bad decision. Our labyrinthine trek took us through and around various flooded streets. Arguably, my low-slung sedan could’ve stalled at any time. I feared the worst when it got bumper-deep on 62nd Avenue North and a pickup truck barreled by, sending a wave splashing onto my hood.

But the G80 held, and we made it. Amid a light rain, business was understandably slow as we settled into a bright-red booth. A strange mix of modern pop and hardcore rap (one song laced with F-words) played on a lousy sound system (but not too loudly). Like two nights previous, I ordered Phở with sliced beef (not billed as filet), brisket and meatballs, as well as an order Vegetarian Spring Rolls ($4.45) and a Da Chanh lemonade ($3.45).

Appearance

Another mega-bowl, although prettier than the one at Special Phở. Other than that, the presentation was about the same. In terms of eating ergonomics, the bench was too low and far away from the table, forcing me to sit straight-backed and forward. Good for my overall posture, I guess, but not comfortable.

Texture and Taste

Phở Quyen did not offer a wide-noode option, and the vermicelli was slippery and elusive, and far less satisifying than Special Phở’s.

I ate one meatball and decided that the Asian-style beef orbs are just not for me. These transcended spongy into rubbery. The broth was fine, if on the bland side. The beef was cooked through and nondescript.

I really struggled eating this stuff. Furthermore, I ill-advisedly wore white pants (so what if it was after Labor Day), so had to put about a dozen flimsy paper napkins on my lap. They scattered away with the slighest movement, and needed replacing. The restaurant should’ve added a napkin surcharge to our check.

I tried several techniques. The soup was too hot for noodle-slurping. Chopsticking them onto a spoon proved futile. After a while, once the phở had cooled, I used the Western style of twirling the noodles onto a fork with one hand, then taking in spoonfuls of broth with the other. It was too much work, people.

The whole ordeal was like a one-man slapstick act, right down to napkins stuck to the bottom of my shoes.

As far as the spring rolls, they fell apart, forcing me to dip them into a too-thick peanut sauce and quickly shove bites into my mouth. No tofu, either. Oh, and the lemonade was too sweet.

The Phở Sure Winner of this FFF Is …

Special Phở.

A TKO. Everything about Special Phở’s meal proved superior to Phở Quyen’s, but it was the wide noodles that most mattered.

By the way, getting home Wednesday night was not as perilous as going out, but it had its harrowing moments. On one stretch of 54th Avenue between MLK and 4th Streets, heading east, I had to drive over the median and reverse course. But we made it. And our power was back on.