It’s finally the season to wear those corduroy pants again, when making s’mores on a bonfire in the backyard makes perfect sense, when football season starts to get interesting and when pumpkin-spiced everything rears its ugly and obnoxious head.
But most importantly, it’s finally the season when eating soup starts to become practical.
If you’re as American as I am, you’re in the aisle of a grocery grabbing cans of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup, mainly because we believe it somehow soothes our souls and envelops us with a warmth that not even our favorite flannel shirt could.
The soup galaxy is vast and varied. There are Hungarians dicing onions for goulash, Dominicans marinating meat for sancocho, and somewhere in Lagos, a Nigerian grandmother is hovering over a pot of efo riro.
But in the Southeast Asian country of Vietnam, it’s all the pho (pronounced “fuh”).