Dining review: Phonatik dishes up Vietnamese flavors by the steaming bowlful

A nasty head cold. The election season blues. Long days. Cold mornings. These are the conditions that led me to begin daydreaming about pho.

Normally, my mind is a jumble of culinary cravings, all jockeying for position, but this October brought with it a perfect storm that could only be calmed by a steaming, noodley bowl of savory comfort. The only thing, in fact, that could tempt me (apart from a large bottle of cherry-flavored Robitussin).

Happily, Anchorage is teeming with good pho places and choosing a favorite is deeply personal. My family has always loved Ray's Place on Spenard, with its "welcome to the family" feel, its eclectic decor, and a staff that always remembers our usual order. It seems almost disloyal to eat pho elsewhere. However, my recent strip-mall roundup led a number of readers to declare Phonatik on Dimond Boulevard among their favorites so, in an effort to combine business with pleasure, I decided to give it a try.

In comparison to some of the more venerable pho joints around town, Phonatik, like its name, has a young, trendy, contemporary feel. It's sleek and urban, with graffiti-style murals on the wall, modern furnishings, lots of hardwood and a bar showcasing an impressive array of craft beers on tap.

[Related: Why Vietnamese noodle soup shops are colonizing Anchorage]

The menu, however, is reassuringly focused and fairly classic. This is not one of those Asian menus that offers everything from bulgogi to California rolls. There are a few appetizers, a variety of spring rolls, pho and hu tieu (which has a chicken-based broth), a few rice and noodle dishes and bahn mi sandwiches.

We began with an order of deep-fried egg rolls ($8) and the intriguing-sounding "reindeer wontons" ($8.95). The egg rolls were crisp little cigars stuffed with pork, yam and taro. The filling was surprisingly dense with the texture of a Vietnamese meatball. Served with a pungent, fish-based sauce that nicely balanced the subtle sweetness of the filling, these were a hit.

The wontons were … weird. At least, in the context of Vietnamese cuisine. The fried pockets were stuffed with a dollop of cream cheese, diced reindeer sausage, minced jalapeno and sweet chili sauce — this was a jalapeno popper gone rogue. I occasionally make pot stickers with my daughters and when we run out of filling we get a bit creative with the leftover dumpling wrappers: ricotta and cherry tomatoes! Peanut butter and Sriracha! Bananas and Nutella! These wontons seemed similarly accidental. Accidental but, if I'm being honest, quite tasty. Of course, so are most things when they're deep fried (see, also, peanut butter and Sriracha dumplings).

For our entrees, we shared two different pho varieties — chicken and meatball (all pho items come in three sizes, priced at $6.95, $10.95 and $12.95 with the exception of the oxtail, which costs a dollar more). The soups share a broth and it's deeply satisfying: beefy and earthy, with subtly sweet herbal notes and the slightly licorice-y flavor of star anise. The soup is served steaming hot, with sweet onions gently poaching at the top and a generous sprinkle of fragrant cilantro.

The chicken pho features what appears to be an entire chicken breast thinly sliced. This is a mild bowlful, which I enlivened by the spoonful with sliced jalapenos, a spritz of lime juice and ample dollops of the house-made chili sauce. My daughters preferred to eat it undoctored, embracing its homey simplicity.

The meatballs, on the other hand, are complex — full of ginger notes and rich with bits of beef tendon — an element that my 11-year-old eyed with suspicion. But she tried it bravely and declared it to be good. "Chewy but nice." I too, am new to tendons (a sentence I never thought I'd write). To me, the tendon adds an almost buttery texture to the meatballs — a smooth fattiness that gives a richness to the beef.

On the side, we shared a pork bahn mi (at the recommendation of our friendly and knowledgeable server; $8) and we were glad we did. The slow-roasted pork has a rich glaze with enough sugar content to allow it to caramelize and char in spots, lending it a deep, smoky flavor. It was tender enough to bite through and just fatty enough that it stayed moist even without the sandwich's other condiments. Mayonnaise, grilled onions, fragrant cilantro and crisp, lightly pickled carrots give the sandwiches creaminess, sweetness, herbal notes and a bit of tang. Delightfully, the sandwich is served with a handful of festive, brightly colored shrimp chips. Freshly fried and appetizingly greasy, these airy, salty little crisps were gone in an instant, leaving us to wonder if we dreamed them.

[Related: Around Anchorage, soups to to warm up to]

I returned a week later for lunch. Because my head cold was still winning, I decided on pho again (this time with rare steak) while placing a to-go order of the bun thit nuong ($12.95) to bring home to my husband.

The pho was generously heaped with soft, almost velvety slices of rare (almost raw) beef that poached slowly in the broth. As the meat browned I would scoop each piece up and eat it while the center was still nice and pink. I was happy not sharing for a change, and doubled down on the chili sauce, jalapenos and lime juice in a reasonably successful effort to clear my sinuses. That and the steam wafting up from the oversized bowl was definitely what the doctor ordered.

My husband's bun thit nuong ($12.95) featured the same smoky sweet roast pork that is in the bahn mi (though it can be ordered with chicken, beef or tofu). The meat rests atop a nest of rice noodles mixed with slivers of cucumber, lettuce and pickled carrot. A bright sweet and sour dressing lightened the richness of the meat. Substantial but not overly heavy, this dish made the perfect midday meal.

By the time you read this, the election will be over. And hopefully, so will my cold. But regardless of whether you're celebrating or commiserating, I think we'll all be in need of a little bit of comfort. I plan on getting mine in meatball form with the aroma of star anise.

Phonatik

Hours: 11 a.m.-11 p.m. Monday and Thursday-Saturday; 11:30 a.m.-11 p.m. Tuesday-Wednesday; 12 p.m.-8 p.m. Sunday

Location: 901 E. Dimond Blvd., Suite A

Contact: (907) 336-8880

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