Pho.

Yesterday, Ari and I went on an excursion to sample some taco places, as well as experience pho. We went to two taquerias (one an actual restaurant, the other a taco truck). Both were fairly good but didn't have the right fish tacos to satisfy me (the one thing I miss the most about southern CA). Sigh.

Pho was an entirely new thing. I figured I needed to try it, given the large number of pho restaurants around here. I guess I had built up high expectations - and was a little disappointed. Perhaps the beef pho is the best, but I don't eat beef. I tried the chicken. This consists of a clear broth, a pile of rice noodles, several flat pieces of chicken, and some herbs (maybe cilantro?). In addition, I was given a plate of some very fragrant basil, a large pile of sprouts, a couple of lemon wedges, and a sliced pepper (not sure what kind). I added everything but the pepper. It wasn't bad by any means. The broth was tasty enough but not exciting. The noodles were okay, and Ari enjoyed them - which brings me to another point.

I had this strange epiphany of what it must feel like to be an immigrant. There are just enough changes here for it to feel weird for me. I didn't notice this so much in southern California - though it had its differences from the Midwest. And I certainly didn't notice it in Indiana, which is a little more redneck-y but otherwise very similar to Iowa. I'm not sure why I never felt like this in California, because there are plenty of differences there. Maybe it was because I didn't have kids*. I certainly tried new things in California. I ate fish tacos, and they blended right in with my usual routine. I became an avocado fan. I was introduced to lattes, by way of the Frappuccino. But here, as I sat in this Vietnamese restaurant, feeding pho rice noodles to Ari, it occurred to me how different my kids' childhoods are from mine, and how they may likely grow up feeling that this part of the country, with its physical and cultural differences, is normal. These thoughts in turn made me feel like the weird outsider trying to hang on to her roots. Luckily I still speak the language. ;)

*Another difference - it had most of the same chain businesses. Many chain restaurants are missing here. Or, if they are in the area, they're considerably north (Lynnwood/Everett) or south (Tukwila/Renton) or east (Bellevue/Redmond) of us. I suspect the same applies to some chain stores as well. It's a bit of a culture shock at times. I don't know where to go to get something I want. I'm supportive of the idea of small businesses over big corporations, but it's a big change to actually live in an area where this is put into practice.