Annam's mean beef Pho costs more than $30

• Rooney9

  22 Oct 11, 22:19

  

  Celebrity chef Nguyen Nam Quoc offers a hearty version of the Vietnamese noodles with quality beef.

  Singapore, October 21, 2011

  Annam Vietnamese Cuisine
  Shaw Centre, #02-11
  1 Scotts Road
  Singapore 228208
  Tel: 6735-6656
  At 7, Nguyen Nam Quoc arrived in Denmark with his parents as Vietnam War refugees, escaping the hardship and terror in their homeland.
  
  As a young adult, he joined the army and became an elite soldier. That gave him the opportunity to join the UN peace-keeping force for the Serbo-Croatia war where he signed up for kitchen duty.

  Like the earlier milestones in his life, the cooking experience was a stepping stone to an illustrious career in top restaurants in Denmark, Thailand and Singapore.
  
  Schooled in classical French cooking, Nguyen has been known for his modern European cuisine with Asian influences. It was during his stint at Singapore's Lighthouse that his artful creations became more cross-cultural.
  
  It caught the attention of F & B leaders and gourmets, who nominated him as a rising chef in Singapore in the early 2000s.

  Although he moved to Thailand after that, the Les Amis group had already noticed his special talent and invited him to do a promotion at their flagship French restaurant last year.
  
  It led to a more fruitful partnership, resulting in one of Singapore's first upscale Vietnamese restaurants, Annam, taking its pride of place in the Les Amis collection of chic restaurants fronting the Claymore side of Shaw Centre.

  Entering the restaurant is almost like poking into someone's house in the colonial era of the early half of 20th century.
  
  If not for the Vietnamese art works and old-world furniture, you would mistake this for a family-run bistro what with French songs from a glorious era cooing in the background.
  
  I aint heard no Miss Saigon or Vietnamese tunes, but a ceaseless flow of La Vie En Rose ilk until it was overtaken by the lunch chatter of eager diners wanting to check out this new restaurant.
  
  But don't be mistaken. This is not a restaurant serving French fare with Indochinese undertones.
  
  It is an unintimidating homey establishment offering a good array of honest to goodness Vietnamese food at prices that seemed to have shot through the ceiling.
  
  For instance, a bowl of beef Pho noodles will set you back by $28++ or more than $30. The chicken version, $26++.
  
  The Pho at a swanky restaurant in Orchard was cheaper at $21.
  
  When told of Annam's prices, a Vietnamese restauranteur widened her eyes in surprise and said: "If I were to sell a $30 Pho, it would have to be so good that you would faint with pleasure after eating it."
  
  So were we ecstatic after slurping up Nguyen's delicious Pho, which costs about four times the price of a foodcourt version?
  
  Nah, I didn't swoon but I felt good.
  
  My energy level was on the higher register after downing the beefy goodness. I was also fascinated by Nguyen's more assertive touches.
  
  It was a somewhat mean Pho. Definitely meaner than the pussy versions at other places.
  
  Palpably spiced by cinnamon and star anise, the soup was heartier and more beefy. The saltiness of the fish sauce matched the sweetness of the sugar (likely to be rock sugar).

  And it was beguilingly more herby too. Apart from the commonly used basil leaves and spring onions, there was Vietnamese coriander too (laksa leaves). Cut chillies added that necessary sting.
  
  The best part was the beef.

  Annam used good Australian beef from cattle primed by a 150-day grain diet. Hence the delicious flavour and succulence, and also the steeper price tag.
  
  The braised brisket, tendon and freshly cooked lean meats were all nicely tender. The only disappointment was the factory-made beef ball.
  
  Chef Nguyen might want to consider asking the supplier to make a customised version following his recipe if he has no time to make them.
  
  Provided as dips for the beef were commercially made chilli and hoisin sauces
  
  How were the noodles? Very good. Smooth, slim and clean-tasting.
  
  A small spoonful of spring onion oil mixed with tiny lard crispies were added to the noodles and tossed. The aromatic flavouring  gave the Pho an edge over others.
  
  But it wasn't enough to make the Pho a knockout. Maybe a spoonful more might do the trick.
  
  It is still a good Pho worth the splash if you have the means for expensive beef.
  
  The chicken version was good too. The soothing soup was tinged with the rustic gaminess of gizzards and liver that you could counter with a squeeze of lime and some cut chillies. You either like or hate this one.
  
  Looking at the droves of well-heeled customers sweeping through its door, I won't be surprised if it gets requests for more premium beef like Japanese wagyu soon.