ORLANDO, Fla. – Pho is my number one comfort food. If I’m sick, if I’ve had a long week, if I just need something that feels like a reset, this is it. So when I heard Pho Bar had a beef broth that simmers for 24 hours every day, I made my way to the Vietnamese restaurant in Orlando’s Mills 50 district—one of the city’s most delicious neighborhoods for Asian cuisine.
Pho Bar describes itself as an authentic culinary venue rooted in traditional techniques and the freshest ingredients, with recipes that take hours of preparation. That mission shows up immediately, not just in the food, but in the confidence of the experience. (Also: their menu has photos of every item, which I wish every restaurant would copy.)
I met Minh Do, the founder of Pho Bar Vietnamese Kitchen, who told me the restaurant is committed to keeping things traditional—especially in an area where diners have endless options.
“We don’t do certain fusion things,” Minh said. “We serve unapologetic Vietnamese food… and we share the culture through that way.”
A lot of that culture is personal. Minh told me many recipes come from his mom and are based on what his family eats at home.
“So whatever we eat at home, we cook and we share it out here too,” he said.
That attitude matters, because it signals what kind of menu you’re walking into: one that doesn’t water itself down, even when the ingredients might be unfamiliar to a first-timer.
I started with bánh bèo, a steamed rice cake from central Vietnam that arrives like a tiny, savory collage. At Pho Bar, it’s layered with minced pork belly and shrimp, crispy pork skins, fried shallots and scallion oil. Then you finish it with bright, tangy fish sauce—plus chilies and lime, with pickled carrots and daikon on the side. It’s one of those dishes that makes you pause after the first bite because there’s so much going on—crunch, richness, salt, acid, sweetness—all in one spoonful.
Next came Mama’s egg rolls: savory fried wheat flour rolls filled with pork, egg, carrots, green onions and spices. The fun is in the eating—wrapping each piece in lettuce with fresh herbs and dipping into a lightly spicy, salty-sweet, tangy nước chấm. That hot-and-crispy, cool-and-fresh contrast is the point. It’s a dish that feels both snackable and deeply comforting.
Then it was time for the fish sauce wings—Pho Bar’s famous crispy wings tossed in a caramelized sauce that’s spicy, savory, tangy and just a little sticky. If you’ve never had Vietnamese food before, fish sauce might sound intense, but in practice it reads more like pure umami: deep, salty, savory flavor that makes everything taste more like itself.
And in true Florida Foodie fashion, I took the toppings from the bánh bèo and threw them on the wings. I stand by it.
Pho Bar’s menu goes beyond Pho, and I couldn’t resist the lomo saltado—sauteed marinated filet mignonette with tomatoes, onions, scallions, French fries and rice. It’s a full plate that scratches two cravings at once: something hearty and beefy, plus the comfort of fries. It’s not the first thing most people think to order at a Vietnamese restaurant, which is exactly why I love finding it on a menu like this.
But the reason I came to Pho Bar is the broth. I’m a firm believer you should always taste the broth first—before hoisin, before sriracha, before you start customizing anything—because it tells you everything you need to know about the bowl.
In the kitchen, I got a look at the process: bones are washed and drained, then simmered down for 24 hours. The pot gets layered with aromatics like charred onion and ginger, and spices like cinnamon and star anise. It’s the kind of method that doesn’t rush flavor—because it can’t.
That time shows up in the final bowl. I tried the short rib Pho first, with rich beef broth and a bone-in short rib that was so tender it practically shredded itself. The handmade noodles had that bouncy, resilient texture that holds up in hot broth and keeps the bowl feeling substantial all the way through.
Then I went for the house special Pho, made with the same slow-cooked beef broth and packed with eye round, brisket, flank, tripe and meatball. It’s a classic, traditional bowl—and it’s also where you really see the restaurant’s commitment to using ingredients the way Vietnamese families have for generations.
Somewhere between bites, I took a break with the orange honey iced tea—bright, refreshing and exactly the kind of drink you want on a warm Orlando day, especially when your table is covered in savory, sauce-forward dishes.
Pho Bar is the kind of place that reminds me why Pho is my number one comfort food: warm, rich and worth slowing down for. From bánh bèo to fish sauce wings to a broth that takes 24 hours every single day, it’s bold, traditional and made with real care. Try the broth first—and don’t be afraid to order something new.